#but it doesn’t. because the action that was bothering me is still occurring

[fingertipsmp3]

You know what it is. She says the right things, but never does the right things

[avelera]

Man, there’s all these little beats in OFMD S2 1-3 where people keep EXPECTING Stede to be upset or horrified about Ed’s actions and then he’s just. Not. In a way that reminded me of how a lot of fanon kept softening Stede into someone who doesn’t swear and is horrified at Ed for setting those ships on fire when imo to my eyes he was horrified for Ed because Ed was still so clearly distressed about it.

- Zheng Yi Sao asks Stede how he’s doing now that he knows Ed did horrible things to his crew and there’s this beat and Stede just pivots to, oh yeah, sometimes Ed is troubled. Like it didn’t occur to him to be upset on the crew’s behalf he’s worried about Ed.

- Izzy keeps trying to spare Stede’s feelings and cover up Ed’s spiral, but Stede clocked what was going on with Ed immediately and wasn’t the least bit intimidated or bothered. The knives brought the room together. Of course Ed’s trying to burn the world down or die trying. Duh. And I genuinely don’t think the STUFF in the Revenge mattered even a fraction to Stede as much as the signs of Ed’s breakdown broke his heart. It’s just STUFF, who cares.

- Lucius had to SPECIFICALLY call out Stede for not being surprised or bothered by what happened to him. What Ed did. Stede has to almost consciously remind himself to express polite concern. He just doesn’t actually care, instinctively or automatically, about what happened to Lucius. Part of it is he blames himself more than Ed. Part of it is he just doesn’t care, Ed is the priority.

They’re little blink and you’ll miss it pauses in some cases. Micro-expressions. The absence of a reaction. But honestly, I will scream it to the end of time, Stede is not some nonviolent creampuff scared or upset by Ed’s evil ways. He wants to join Ed in the atrocities. The man ran away to become a pirate. He asked if Lucius was taking notes during a murderous raid.

Stede’s at least a little on some kind of whackadoodle pirate comedy neurodivergence spectrum to the point where he actually really actually struggles to empathize with people, even people he cares about!, if their feelings conflict with his hyperfixation (piracy) and the love of his life (Ed Teach). He’s always, ALWAYS going to pick Ed over Lucius or Izzy or his crew or even his own feelings, if the option is there. He will literally throw himself overboard to get to Ed’s side. No pause. No consideration of anyone else or even his own safety.

Stede sometimes seems to have to consciously remind himself things like, oh yeah, the crew, I need to see to them. Not because he’s heartless or doesn’t care, but because it takes a bit of conscious effort for him to see beyond the laser-focused spotlight of what and who he does care most about, he has to remind himself of social niceties and other people’s feelings (just see him running away in the first place!) when he gets an idea in his head. It’s as if he had to train himself to consciously care about some things other people care about and as a neurodivergent person myself, that felt very familiar in a comedically writ large sort of way. I’d even argue that’s where all his aristocratic social niceties come from. They were his guidebook for how to do things “right” in a world that otherwise made no sense to him outside his hyperfixations. He practiced being a person through the aristocratic training because it was all so foreign to him from the start, including caring, actually caring, about the needs of others. Not because he’s consciously evil or consciously a jerk. The instinct just isn’t there unless he practices at it until it becomes reflex to ask how others are doing, because on his own his brain just doesn’t really notice or care.

I just… hope the fandom notes and has as much FUN as I do noticing all the little moments where even people inside the story of OFMD expect Stede to act in a normal way and instead he remains unhinged, laser-focused on Ed.

Stede’s not just an Ed apologist, he truly doesn’t blame Ed for any of it. He blames only himself. He doesn’t always voice this but he really really only cares about anyone else including the crew as a DISTANT second and he has to consciously REMIND himself to do so. He is able to rally to take action, to care about their physical needs like safety during the rescue, but he still struggles, deeply struggles, to remember to show empathy in a non-performative way for anyone except his special person, Ed.

Stede’s not a creampuff, not a nice guy, not some emotionally or morally perfect angel. He has to consciously practice caring about literally anything else but what he wants to do and his special person. And to me that’s a thousand times more interesting than shoving him in a box labeled “the blond, pacifist do-gooder good guy” in their relationship.

[eggy-tea]

I was at the beach with my sister and my niece the other day, splashing around in the water, and the subject came up (as a follow-up of a previous conversation, not because of where we were) of a guy from our area who got attacked by a shark while on vacation. And we’re in the water, not anywhere near a place where sharks have ever attacked (on account of they don’t live there), but still in the ocean, and my niece can be a bit of an anxious kid sometimes, but it doesn’t occur to either of us adults until a moment too late that maybe this topic of conversation would be better suited to somewhere, anywhere else. 

And the reason I’m sharing this story is because of what my niece did next. She immediately put her hands over her ears and said, “Mama, I don’t want to listen to that, it’s scary for me.” To which my sister replied, “That’s okay, sweetheart, you don’t have to listen,” and then finishes what she was telling me. When that part of the conversation was over a minute later, she waved to my niece, who had moved a bit farther away to help avoid overhearing, and let her know that the scary part was over. My niece came back over and we went right back to splashing and playing in the water, no harm done. 

And I can’t help but thinking, what a healthy response, actually. My niece knew that she was likely to be freaked out by the topic of conversation, and just opted out. She wanted to keep having fun at the beach, and that wasn’t going to happen if she was worrying about sharks. She expressed her boundary, showed what she was going to do, and did it. My sister’s response respected and validated her boundary, but also made it clear that the existence of a personal boundary doesn’t necessarily dictate other people’s actions when their boundaries are different. And the way it went down, so calm and direct from both of them, felt very much like a learned behaviour.

My niece is really lucky. She’s got good parents who understand her and do their best to give her what she needs. But at the same time, if an anxious 8-year-old can learn to take ownership of her experience of the world and avoid the things that will upset her without feeling the need to control everyone else’s actions and/or demanding things be completely eradicated from existence just because they bother her personally, it kind of behooves us older people to try and do the same.

[froggyfics]

Muffins

You and Tim ruin muffins for Jason and Dick.

Ummm, I’m not sure how we got here. I was requested to make a super fluffy piece, but it just turned sideways. I don’t even know why it turned out the way it did.

Sorry if y’all are squeamish about spit, I’m just disgusting

This is literally the first smut piece I've done, it's not full smut, but still, let me know how I did!

Sorry to the anon that requested a fluff piece. I really don’t know where it went wrong. Please blame my parents for my repressed childhood.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! 

Pairing: Tim Drake x gn!reader

Theme: Fluff, Implied Smut

Warning: Spit Kink

Word Count: 1,026

You gaze excitedly upon the remaining muffin, with your salivary glands kicking into overdrive as you inhale the dessert’s scent. 

Your tongue hangs out slightly in preparation for muffin to enter your mouth. It’s a big muffin, and it’ll be a tight fit, but you’re sure you can manage. 

The pads of your fingers are ready to pick up the muffin when, unexpectedly, another pair of hands enter the frame. 

It occurs almost in slow motion. Tim’s nimble fingers grasp the sides of the dessert, removing the liner and tossing it in an unknown direction. He purposely holds your gaze, aware that you are watching his every move in utter shock. He grins widely, knowing that he’ll be punished for his actions, but nonetheless, believes that your reaction would be worth the trouble. 

“Don’t do it,” you warn. 

“Watch me.”

He opens his mouth widely, stretching his face to the maximum. He stuffs the muffin into his mouth carefully. Tim doesn’t want to actually eat the muffin. Oh no, he wants to simply bask in the experience of bothering you. Because nothing makes Tim happier than when he’s on your mind, even if it’s at the expense of your peace of mind.  

The muffin completes its journey to Tim’s mouth. His lips struggle to close completely, as his mouth is at its maximum capacity. 

The look on your face is worth the painful stretch of his jaw. He wants to smile, but he knows he’ll choke if he does. It’s now time for phase two.

He reaches into his mouth and grabs the base of the muffin. He cautiously pulls it out, one centimeter at a time. You watch in disgust as Tim pulls the muffin out his mouth, still fully intact, and places it proudly back on the plate it was originally on. 

There’re a few seconds of silence before laughter cuts through the air. Your eyes shoot daggers at Jason and Dick, who are sitting at the kitchen table as well. Jason clutches his stomach and Dick covers his face with his hands, both shaking uncontrollably with laugher. You turn to face Tim, who sports a toothy grin. He knows what your reaction will be. You know he’s just doing this to get a rise out of you. You know this, but you can’t help yourself.

You shudder involuntarily. “That was so foul,” you start. You look over at your traumatized muffin. There’s an extra shine on the dessert that wasn’t there before. You realize it’s Tim’s spit that made its way from his mouth and settled into its pores.

“You’re disgusting,” you add. 

Tim has now joined in on the laughter. It’s the type of laughter that’s so boisterous that through his shirt, you can see his stomach contort as the sound travels out of his body. It’s an infectious laugh that you realize you never want to be immune to. 

Your mouth quivers as you try your best not laugh, too. This is serious! He messed with your muffin! And it’s the last one, so it’s not like you can just grab another!

“I-I-I can’t even eat this!” you sputter. “Your saliva is all over it!”

Tim’s laughter doesn’t slowly die down, but instead, it abruptly ends. It shocks you at just how quickly the mood changes. He quirks his head to the side, looking deep into your eyes. Tim blankly stares at you and approaches. He’s no longer looking at your eyes, as his gaze lowers to your mouth. His fingers graze your lips, and you hold your breath. There’s something electric in the air suddenly. The atmosphere has shifted from lively to…sensual. You’re unsure of what’s about to happen next. You can’t even continue with your rant, and you simply gaze at him in anticipation. 

“My saliva is all over your muffin?” he mocks. He no longer has a childish smile on his face, but sports a devious smirk instead. 

You’re unsure of how to reply. All you can do is nod slightly, your eyes round with excitement, wondering what Tim will say next. 

One hand remains on your lips and the other slides up and down your arm. The motion would be comforting during any another moment. In this moment though, the action is anything but comforting. Instead, it lights a fire within your core. 

“You’ve literally begged me to spit in your mouth before,” he emphasizes. “A little saliva won’t hurt you one bit.”

The laughter from Jason and Dick immediately ceases and is replaced by disgusted groans. You can see from the corner of your eye that Dick is pretending to vomit and Jason’s face contorts in revulsion. 

Tim’s raunchy admission makes you blush furiously, but it also leaves your toes curling. Redness now tints your neck, face, and ears. Your craving for dessert quickly dissipates and now you have a different sort of hunger.

“I didn’t need to hear that,” Jason laments.

“Yeah, thanks guys. You’ve ruined muffins for me,” Dick adds. 

You don’t even hear what Jason and Dick continue to complain about. Tim is all that crowds your mind. He’s still got that devious smirk on his face. You stare right back at him as you make your next move.

You grab the muffin without breaking eye contact. He’s so focused on you and his attentiveness makes you all the more tense. You break it in half and slip your portion into your mouth. Its sweetness immediately hits your tongue, and you just have to close your eyes at how good it tastes. 

You open your eyes after you’ve swallowed, and notice that Tim’s still looking at you with passion, love, and lust in his eyes. You lean in closer to him and hold up the remaining portion to his lips. He opens his mouth and you take the opportunity to slip his half of the muffin in. When he begins to chew it, you whisper. You whisper low enough to where Jason and Dick can’t hear what you’re saying. This conversation is between you and Tim only.

“The muffin was good, but I think I need something else to wash it down with.”

[sadly-in-active]

Prune Juice Cookie and Mozzarella Cookie x Sleepy Reader

—

Lychee Dragon Cookie and Butter Roll Cookie x Clumsy Reader

Summary #1: I made it like this because I said so, deal with it pookies 😘. You’re known to be a very sleepy one, always dozing off at either the best or the worse time. Luckily, your loving partner is here to help!

Summary #2: Ah yes, there you were, walking around a park with your beloved. However, a slip occurs. No, literally, you slipped on a wet spot on the trail and fell right down. It would’ve been really embarrassing for you, but there was certainly a death stare coming from your partner at EVERYONE who witnessed the action. After all, anything clumsy that happens in public remains a quiet secret ever since your super sweet partner has come to rescue you from embarrassment!

Prune Juice Cookie

He’s known for a while that you’re the type to doze off. However, he tried to combat this by making potions to keep you awake. Oh, and he just gave you coffee. Even though you look positively beautiful while asleep, he also wants you to be awake for life as well!

But, if you still stay asleep, he just sighs and kisses you on the forehead, before pulling you up onto his lap while he works on new potions or perfecting old ones.

And yes, he does put on special goggles for your safety, even if you’re not awake.

Whenever you are awake and actually energetic, he takes you out for a lavish date before ending the day with the two of you stargazing. As this happens, he feels you lean on him again, letting out your little mumble as you kiss him on the cheek and fall asleep.

“Oh, [name], what could I do to stop you from being asleep? …but you are my personal pillow as well.”

Mozzarella Cookie

She’s just surprised that you actually manage to sleep in such a bright and glorious kingdom. You’re probably the one who sleeps the most out of everyone in inside the Golden Cheese Kingdom!

Mozzarella takes you out to the colosseum, placing a bet and taking you by the hand as she goes to her seat.

Now personally, I think sitting on her lap would be AMAZING.

Especially during the times she celebrates after winning. Sweetheart just can’t help but hug your sleeping body and hold you closely, whispering to you about how the match went and that she won ❤️

“Oh? Asleep again I see. Hehe! You’re twice as important as anything I could win in a game, dear…”

Lychee Dragon Cookie

Time for the clumsies!!!!

So, Lychee is probably super sweet to you after actually becoming someone they can trust and truly love.

And they’re also quite the overprotective sweetheart to you. If you fall, or are about to trip, they pick you up and act like they’re your beloved savior.

Lychee also giggles a lot whenever you slip on the most random things at home. Their laughter is honestly quite contagious, so why bother crying from any pain? You’re quite used to it by now anyways 😅

“Oh, sweet little [name]! You’re so cute when you slip and fall, because then you’ll have me as your big strong hero!”

Butter Roll Cookie

He definitely got that loud boisterous laughter that just makes everyone smile, especially you. Butter Roll certainly doesn’t show you his workplace (for…very big reasons).

However, he does let you come into his study and do whatever you want there. Mostly you just spin on one of those silly office chairs while you wait for him to he done so the two of you can hang out.

But sometimes he gets a little tired, and this was the time that you took action — scooping him up and placing him onto YOUR lap instead

In the end, the two of you accidentally lean back a bit too far and fall to the ground, but your oh-so loving boyfriend catches you and showers you with PLENTY of kisses.

I have a feeling that he’s actually pretty light but just doesn’t look like it.

“ACK- [name]! I didn’t know you could lift me up? Did you somehow manage to lift weights with your adorable clumsy magic?”

[copias-sewer-rat]

hello again! ❤️ inspiration has struck for a new ask (if you’d like to ofc)

would it be possible for you to write the different papas maybe helping a s/o who’s overwhelmed with work, stress, bills or whatever etc. and how they help them relax, calm them?

Thank you! 😘

Sorry this took so long! I myself am very stressed with work so this ask got me pretty hard. I tried to portray different types of behaviours when stressed so I hope you enjoy the little scenarios (they might be a bit angsty if you are feeling down, but it is nothing serious.) Fluff and comfort overall! (THIS IS ALL WORK STRESS RELATED BECAUSE RN THAT IS ALL MY MIND GOES TO SORRY)

Tags: no proof read, gn reader, overworked reader, slight argument but overall fluff and comfort.

PAPAS WITH A READER WHO IS STRESSED (GN)

Primo

- Now that he has been retired for a few years, Primo doesn’t feel that stressed anymore. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have fond memories of the piles of documents piling at his desk when he was Cardinal or even Papa.

- Currently he gets the most stressed when some unexpected plague attacks his dear plants.

- That and when you come to him stressed yourself.

- He sees you entering your shared chambers, dark bags under your puffy eyes (you had probably been crying, he thought) and he gets stressed just from your aura.

- He has seen you like this before, but this is one of those extreme cases when you don’t even speak to him, so he worries a lot.

- He jumps straight to you, grabbing anything that you might be carrying, trying to make you feel lighter somehow.

- When he gets back to you after placing your belongings where you usually leave them, he resorts to the only thing he can think of to know how to help you: yes or no questions.

- You are not speaking right now, but you do make very slow almost unreadable gestures.

- He asks if you want to eat, you nod. He prepares you a plate of the dinner he had made for both of you, still hot and smelling delicious, you eat what you can.

- He offers you various options afterwards. That you vent to him about what got you so stressed, a warm bath or to get wrapped in blankets and sleep as much as you want.

- Whatever you choose the last option is always mandatory, because he knows that that is what relaxes you the most.

Secondo

- You learned a long time ago that Secondo’s bitter and dry behavior came to flourish mostly when he was stressed, which occurred pretty often.

- Since you got together he had snapped at you a few time because of that, but he promised to work on his issues so you don’t get to suffer because of him.

- He picks up wood work to destress when he has a bit of a break and he hasn’t snapped at you ever since.

- So imagine his surprise when it is you the one that snaps at him.

- You cannot avoid it, you had loads of work and you workmates were being assholes and your boss even more. Everyone shouted at you so you shouted at Secondo.

- He had asked a pretty innocent question about the washing machine, something that he had asked before, but somehow he always forgets and you keep reminding him. But this time it bothered you more that it should. You screamed at him that he was stupid, that he didn’t put any effort into figuring out himself.

- Secondo wasn’t one to get affected by those kinds of comments, but coming from you, his beloved, it definitely pricked his heart in a way he didn’t know it was possible.

- You saw his hurt expression and regretted you actions instantly, breaking into tears in front of him.

- You apologized profusely time and time again, explaining the root of your aggressiveness towards him. That certainly softened him and made him angry at the same time.

- How dared everyone at your job to treat you in such way? You were perfect!

- He told you that there was nothing to forgive, that he understood why you had snapped. However, he made you promise that you would come to him sooner when you started feeling that way, that maybe you could carve something together.

- Later that night Secondo prepares a movie night with your favourite snacks and a marathon of your comfort movies to chill together.

- You definitely fall asleep before the first movie ends and Secondo carries you to your shared bed.

Terzo

- You were so stressed that you finally shut down. You couldn’t do anything, you felt so incompetent.

- The last day you had spent it under the sheets of your bed, crying all the time, thinking that you didn’t deserve a job. Everything was piling up and you had asked for a couple of free days to drown in your own self pity.

- The break itself was not working, guilt building up for even skipping a day of work, but you could not handle being there anymore.

- Terzo had been worried about you, you were not answering your phone so he decided to visit you in person. He had a spare to you keys so he invited himself in.

- Everything was dark and cold. Being the dramatic ass that he is he imagined the worst possible scenario and called for you. He heard some rustling coming from your bedroom and grabbed a pan from you kitchen to defend himself.

- When he saw your figure curled up in bed between mugs of cold tea and used tissues he run to you, leaving the pan at the edge of the bed where it didn’t make a noise.

- He observed that you were awake so he tried to talk to you. You could do anything but hug his torso as tightly as possible.

- He didn’t say nothing more, he just caressed your greasy hear, tucking it away from you puffy face.

- Terzo sang your favourite Italian songs to calm you down and you did.

- When you felt better, you told him why you were like that, but he didn’t understand much between your hiccups and sniffles, he got the general picture though.

- He prepared a spa session for both of you, with the whole package: face masks, cucumber for your eyes, exfoliating, warm bath with rose petals, manicure and pedicure for both of you and of course a scalp massage that sent you to heaven.

- He definitely knows how to work those fingers to turn you into a puddle.

Copia

- The current Papa is always so stressed himself that you don’t want to add your own stress to his own growing pile. You fake a smile every time he asks about your job, but on the inside you are hurting so badly.

- You want to quit, you have wanted to do so for a while. Your job doesn’t bring you any joy and it is the furthest you would find to your dream job.

- Copia doesn’t know this, so when you almost collapse on him due to you overworking yourself, he is so panicked that he debates calling an ambulance.

- You recover yourself quickly and ask for a glass of water which Copia runs to fetch for you.

- He thinks you might have a very serious sickness. When he hands you the tall glass of water (which you down in one go) he sees how pale you look, the bags under your eyes, the shine of your hair is gone and you look thinner.

- He asks what is wrong while putting you on his lap and you break down. You explain everything. How you didn’t want to worry him, how everything had seemed too much lately, how you don’t want your job anymore.

- He listens attentively, but his face is one of concern. He explains that you should not stick with something if it makes you unhappy. Of course every job has bad moments, but if that is all that there is to it, it is not worth it.

- You nod and hug him tightly. Copia runs his hand through your hair, explaining how he will always be there by your side, that you can talk to him about these things, that you are not a burden or a bother.

- You laugh, you had been so blind to that. He is Copia, your Copia. Of course he would have time for you, and you for him. You wanted to do it alone, and the weight became so heavy that you sank down. Fortunately, Copia was always going to be there to pick you up.

- After that you shower together. Copia pays extra attention to all the parts of your body that look extra tense. He rubs and washes with hot water and you do the same for him in such and intimate fashion that you end up hugging under the hot stream.

- After that you eat dinner, talking about anything but work, Copia throwing his typical silly jokes. Those he knows make you laugh no matter what.

- At the end of the night, he carries you to bed and massages you with scented oils, massaging any spot that was still tense even after the shower.

- You fall asleep with your head nested on his neck, inhaling his scent and wondering how lucky you truly were of having him as your other half.

[ruinaimagines]

Kind Of a weird request, but could you write some headcanons Of LOR plot If roland and argalia switched places?

Sure can, here they are! This accidentally mainly follows Argalia’s experience so hope you don't mind but there are mentions of Roland.

Library of Ruina if Argalia and Roland Switched Places Headcanons:

I believe before we get into this it is first important to establish what occurred before Argalia came to the library. In this scenario, Roland was likely the one to have been influenced by the pianist and thus start to descend into an inability to hold rational thought.

That said, we’ve seen that even before the pianist Argalia wasn’t the most.. Stable to say. I could absolutely see him going on the same bloody rampages that Roland did when his sister passed, vowing to get revenge and strike down whoever was the cause of this.

The thing is that unlike Roland who ultimately had some sort of pity to those who he lashed out on, I don’t think Argalia would really care? He’s a man who is willing to do or exploit pretty much anyone should it aid his goal. Sure he isn’t totally heartless, and I believe he is capable of harboring care for people just not really strangers he doesn’t know.

He grew up with Angelica, her being basically his only constant in life, so it isn’t super surprising to me that he would risk it all out of some emotional impulse.

Iori is still the one to bring him to the library, though I don’t know if she would be as confident in her choice as she would have been with Roland. Of course, nothing is guaranteed, she can only see the most likely predicted train of events and outcomes, so this is a bit of a gamble.

Argalia is very charismatic, but he also comes off as a bit egocentric. Probably pisses off Angela a lot, but ultimately manages to convince her to let him stay through his amicable facade. As much as he’d like to impulsively get this over with, he is aware that she’s a bit indestructible at the moment so.. The long game it is.

Comes off as a bit suspicious to the sephirah he meets. Sure, he’s nice to them and knows how to make good conversation, but there’s just this sort of unspoken tension. 

Malkuth, though a bit weirded out at first, is mainly upset at Angela over anything and is probably relieved to have some efficient helping hands on her floor. She’s very action oriented as he is (though he is capable of complex planning, he enjoys feeling like he’s physically making progress than being cooped up in a room), so I feel like they would click in those regards. He’s overall from her experience a pretty calm and friendly guy so she doesn’t mind him.

Yesod didn’t like Roland at the start, and he came off as a pretty easy going guy. I imagine it would be a similar experience for Argalia who’s trying to fulfill a similarly cordial role. I think he’d find Yesod’s attitude a bit funny, not taking his stand-offish first impression seriously at all. Because of his indifference to the librarian’s remarks it honestly might be easier for them to get along than initially expected.

Hod is kind of unnerved by him at the start.. He just sort of gives the same feel as Binah from her experience. Still, she’s willing to give anyone a chance and he seems to be pretty warm to her so far! His calm voice is a bit easier on the ears, and I think that her genuine niceness is a point of slight interest to him.

He can most certainly work with Netzach, but at least from meeting him he wouldn’t really care?? Argalia is kind of apathetic to people, so seeing this librarian so downtrodden is just sort of not really something he bothers himself with. What does intrigue him however is his great dislike towards Angela.. That’s something that he would want to hear more about. I think the two are more similar than they realize with both being willing to sacrifice it all for what they believe would create a better world, it’s just difficult to actually get to that point of realization.

Tiphereth is an endless source of entertainment to him with her short temper.. But also one that brings him a sorrowful feeling to see. Sure she’s great to tease but there’s just something that vaguely reminds him of when he and Angelica were children. This feeling only increases by tenfold when he learns of her dead brother and own story. It’s a complicated mix of feelings because Argalia has an innate desire to make sure she is free from harm, but also doesn’t want to see her because it reminds him of his own sister.

Gebura knew from the start there was something more to him. The way he knows exactly what to say, his carefree and alluring personality seeming to morph perfectly to fit who he meets, it all screamed that he was not just your everyday fixer. She makes this fact known well, but nevertheless doesn’t really treat him super poorly because it’s not really her job to care about his intentions. Argalia would be pretty entertained in response to knowing his guise was so quickly seen through, and by none other than the old red mist herself. Despite this, I feel like his questions to her would center around genuine curiosity, wanting to know her better as she was a famous fixer in his youth.

Chesed is like him minus the manipulation and facades, he’s actually like that. Very casual and relaxing to be around, I feel like they oddly enough would have conversations about the strangest of things. We already have seen how Chesed has gone on rants about making coffee, but take that and pair it with the unpredictable thought process of Argalia, you will have absolutely no idea what information they would be deep diving into.

Binah knows. That’s all I have to say. Even with Argalia’s perfect responses it is no match for the master herself. Still, as someone who looks at the world from the outside I believe she would consider him very interesting. Like a specimen to be studied. Invites him to many tea parties, wanting to pick apart his mind and figure out what in the world is going on there.

Hokma is a man who has the ultimate goal of following the one he values’ dreams until the very end, desiring to make them a reality. He is willing to do whatever it takes and believes firmly that through hard work they will come to a fruition. Even if his stern and serious personality might be a bit boring to Argalia, his ambitious wishes for the betterment of humanity align with his own.

Now then! The floor realizations are really where things get pretty interesting. The true reality of Argalia is revealed more and more with each realization, as his impulsivity, callous nature, and fear of loneliness are put emphasis on. 

It’s going to be a long ride but I do genuinely believe that Argalia can find it to forgive Angela as Roland did, and come to become more in touch with his insecurities and personality outside of the fronts he puts up. 

This probably occurs when he gets a chance to reevaluate what he values much. Yes, he is very upset about the death of Angelica, but what she would likely want more is for him to help the world with their own feelings of isolation instead of creating destruction. It’s not an easy conclusion for him to come to, but it is one I believe is possible especially when he finds that there are some librarians who genuinely are willing to reach out and understand him as a person, including all his flaws.

He still doesn’t like Roland though, and this includes when he brings his own equivalent of the ensemble. Coming to the realization that violence isn’t really going to help him recover in this case, it only leads him to detest his brother-in-law more. 

I think watching the stories of the people who are invited has allowed him to garner some more respect to those he does not know in the city. Definitely won’t turn him into a pacifist, but watching some of them suffer in ways that remind him of his own childhood just stirs something uncomfortable inside him.

I believe he is capable of following the route Roland did where he and Angela both forgive each other. Would it take a lot of character development? Yes, it would. But that’s what the whole game is about, and I do believe that he has his own genuine good-hearted desires.. Even if they are deep down and clouded by whatever mess he has going on.

[alovelyburn]

This has nothing to do with anything, but after having several arguments with AI  chatbots about this (don’t ask), it occurs to me that one of my biggest pet peeves with the evil (human) Griffith crowd is the rampant hypocrisy. 

Uh, just ranting about Griffith again, it’s been building up in the like 1.5 months I’ve been semi-MIA. Nothing to see here.

I’ve said before that when I read their descriptions of Griffith’s actions and crimes I feel like they’re sitting around going, “Oh hey tripped and fell on a guy one time, let’s call that assault and battery kekekekekekekeke.” And it really does feel like that, but it also feels like another pet peeve i have just in general which is an absolute refusal to consider contextual norms. And in this case that applies when judging him and only him.

For example, one thing that has come up is this idea that Griffith has child soldiers with the examples being Casca (because she was young when they met), Rickert, Sonia, etc. 

But ok first of all Griffith is the same age as Casca and she volunteered so that’s stupid. I’m not saying 14-year-olds or however old she was should be considered of sound mind to volunteer for war, I’m just saying if she can’t be considered responsible for her decision to join because she was a child then he shouldn’t be considered responsible for having the questionable judgment to accept her, because he’s exactly the same age as her.  

But more to the point, whatever historical period the Berserk timeline primarily adheres to, it isn’t “the modern one,” right? Whether you assume its moral standards are more in line with the middle ages or the renaissance or anything in between, it was still common for 12 and 13 year olds to be soldiers, so it’s a little weird to villify him for doing what everyone did, which is also evident in the fact that Guts was on the field as a literal 10-year-old and no one was surprised.

...also Rickert’s 20 years old now - if the Eclipse was 3-4 years in the past, then he was 16-17 back then, he’s not THAT young, he’s just short.

Similarly, if you’re going to get on him for being “brutal” and “using violence to attain his goals” then you ought to be getting on literally every major character and most of the minor ones. Everyone in the Band of the Hawk was a soldier - they’ve all killed dozens or hundreds of people. Griffith was a war leader - every single general or leader of men you see in Berserk makes the same kinds of choices he had to make. Serpico burned his own mother (”but he felt bad about it” Yeah, and Griffith did too?). They all use violence to achieve their goals - if anything, Griffith was a bit of a marshmallow for being so upset about it but he still did what he had to do. Guts has the highest body count in the manga, and is so unbothered that he never even thinks about it.

One conversation I had involved a statement of the effect of, “he’s not all bad or anything, but it's important to remember that he is brutal and destructive and willing to use violence to achieve his goals and blah blah, and I was just kind of like... I’m not here to pretend that he’s never been brutal, but where are the people saying “Yeah Guts has a good heart and mostly good intentions, BUT it’s also important to remember he has the highest body count in the manga and doesn’t care about it, he assaulted Casca, he was the actual one who committed all the assassinations and he wasn’t even bothered by it, he considers killing innocents a decent crowd-management technique, he routinely kills people literally just for not moving when he’s trying to get past them, and he’s been known to use children as monster bait.”

You hear a lot about how Griffith “used” Guts to commit those assassinations but that’s out of touch with reality. What actually happened in the first one is that he asked Guts to do it, Guts didn’t care and even made a quip about how Griffith shouldn’t have bothered making it a request and should’ve just made it an order, and then he went and did it and wouldn’t have been bothered if he hadn’t accidentally killed Adonis, which Griffith didn’t even tell him to do. And what actually happened in the second one was that they were co-conspirators, not some master manipulator and his puppet, and in the end Griffith felt bad about it and Guts didn’t.

What I’m saying is, not only do I on principle object to judging characters by standards that are wholly inapplicable to them in the context of their story and world, I also think it’s weird that it only applies to Griffith. It’s like everyone else in the series gets a “well that's just part of the world” pass, and then with Griffith it’s like let's list out everything he’s ever done that a 21st century western person would find objectionable, frame them all in as hyperbolic a way as possible, and then use them as examples of why he’s an awful person.

“He’s motivated by power, money and glory.” He never mentions money except in the context of needing it to supply his men, he specifically notes that he doesn’t really like the nobles and such fawning over him and as for power, I mean I guess wanting power is inherent to ambition but the only things we really know about his motivation directly is that he wants to see how far he can go, and the only thing we know about what he does when he has power is that he tries to move toward egalitarianism, like even Neo does that and Griffith certainly did. 

Someone once told me that he’s narcissistic because he’s preoccupied with his looks, but like... no he isn’t. It’s everyone else that’s preoccupied with his looks.

It’s just a bunch of unsupportable assumptions based on vibes, I don’t know how else to frame it. If you can’t back it up, don’t say it. Especially not to me, l-lol. 

...I should probably delete this, lmao. 

[kimageddon]

A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 117

-|- Page header by space-b33 -|- Masterlist -|- Prince of Dathomir Masterlist -|- Sins of the Father Masterlist -|- Art Masterlist -|- Check out my : Ko-fi / AO3 -|- Commissions Open -|- My Patreon -|- My Linktree -|- Join/Leave my tag list -|-

Maul x Nightsister OC (Zaiya Valessa) - Slight Canon Divergence

Word count: Approx 3300

Contains/Warnings: Death, violence, blood, child death.

Chapter Summary: Zaiya and Feral find some Jedi for the hunt.

Notes: So... hi. It's been a hot minute... or 6 months... Well then. This is awkward. As it turns out, my burn out was a bit more severe than anticipated. But here we are! So, what's been happening in my absence? I had a few wonderful comments and check ins from readers asking if I plan to update.... I think this answers that question. As for the rest, uh... I was nearly made homeless, moved house, drew a bunch of stuff, deleted a bunch of social accounts and went ghost for a bit... had a massive breakdown, then put my big girl pants on and decided to try writing again. Next thing I know, I have written like 5+ full chapters. So that was cool. As for APOD and Sins, I don't think I'll be able to keep up with a weekly schedule again, as much as I would love to. But we'll see how we go with it.

Did ya miss me?

Hunt - Part 1

So often when the other Masters and Padawans would go out on assignment with their clone battalions, while Farley Korro was left at the Temple to meditate, only hearing about all the action days after it happened. 

Not today! 

He and Master Avona Teller had been assigned to a small mission, not his first, but among the very few he’d been granted permission to attend alongside Master Teller. He assumed it was because she didn't have enough faith in him yet.

It bothered him sometimes. Yeah, he was still young, but he was a Padawan, not a youngling! Farley was a little frustrated, he wanted to be a good Padawan and an even better Jedi… but he didn’t always see eye-to-eye with his Master. She seemed to see the Force differently to him. Maybe it was because she was Umbaran? As a species, they tended to perceive the worlds in a different way to humans. Maybe that was why Farley sometimes found it more difficult to understand his Master?

“Keep up, young one,” Master Teller’s smooth and calm voice cut through his mind and he realised he’d been lost in thought again. “Keep your mind on what you’re doing, my Padawan.” I have told you this a thousand times. Her tone was gentle but firm. 

“Yes, Master,” Farley replied brightly as he adjusted his pack and hurried his pace to catch up. Another thought occurred to him as he reached her side, “Master…?”

“Yes?” Master Teller asked knowingly. 

“You’re Umbaran.” 

“Astute observation, Farley,” Master Teller replied dryly. 

“I mean,” he continued, “your people, your homeworld, they’re… Separatists.” 

“They are,” she replied with a sage nod. 

“Doesn’t it bother you? They are your people after all.”

“We are Jedi,” she began calmly, it was rare she ever raised her voice, though Farley could tell when she was disappointed in him. “We are more than just Separatist or Republic.” 

“But we serve the Republic,” Farley replied, confused. 

“Yes we do, but that does not mean we are the Republic,” she gestured to the path ahead, “I am Jedi. To be Jedi means the individual and the group are one and the same. We are with the Force and the Force is with us.”

“So without the Republic, the Jedi would still exist?" Farley asked, trying to get his head around it.

"Correct."

"So if the Republic were to disappear and something else -"

“A grim thought, but yes, that is the idea,” Master Teller conceded. Farley frowned. What would that even look like? A Galaxy with no Republic? He couldn’t really picture it. Though, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to, considering his Master was always telling him to remain in the present. 

“I guess…” While he was contemplating it, his Master interrupted his distracted thoughts again. 

“What is our mission here, Farley?” the Jedi Knight asked serenely. Farley patted the strap of his pack and smiled. 

“Delivering aid to the Troopers and civilians.” He grinned, as he finally felt a part of the action. Sometimes he felt it wasn’t fair. Other Padawans like Barriss Offee and Ahsoka Tano got to go out in the field and have amazing adventures so often. He tried not to feel jealous… but sometimes, he couldn’t help it. 

Today however, he had the important task of bringing a pack full of rare herbs to a local village so that they could make a very special healing salve, one the Jedi thought lost to time. 

A small squad of Troopers were sent ahead to protect the village while he and Master Teller had been sent to collect the special herbs. The village elder was going to assist them in making the medicine and bring it back to the Temple. It wasn’t a lot of excitement, but the chance to work with some Clone Troopers and finally be able to be a Commander! That was something he’d been waiting for. 

He was going to finally be a part of the war; fighting for the Republic and stopping the Separatists! 

The teenager picked up his pace and continued along the path; his head filled with visions of glory and fighting bad guys. Yes he was a Jedi, and they weren’t supposed to have such silly little fantasies, but the Jedi were known as “Heroes of the Republic” and he wanted to be one too. 

Suddenly everything went dark. 

It was like smoke had flooded the forest. Farley couldn’t see a thing. 

“Master!” he cried. He heard the sound of a lightsaber. He could make out Master Teller’s bright green blade through the darkness. 

“Run Farley!” she implored, and though Farley did not want to, he obeyed her. He had to get to the village and deliver the medicine. 

He leapt along the path, his heart demanding that he turn back around, that he help his Master! The village was not far, if he could get help-- Another flash of green -- but it wasn’t Master Teller’s lightsaber. 

An unsettling face stared back at him, inches away and he recoiled with a start. One blue eye, one glowing green and long white braids, dressed in red and black. He knew her from the holos and from the discussions he’d overheard between Master Teller and Master Shaak Ti. 

“S-Siren…!” he gasped. The tall woman pulled back, a single long, curved knife in her hand. it had green flames flickering over the blade. 

“Padawan,” she replied, assessing him with the tilt of her head. Her voice made him shudder, there was something about the way she spoke that made the Force ripple around him. 

“You don’t scare me,” he cried, reaching for his own weapon and tossing the pack aside. “There is no fear.” The Siren's eyes never left him, but she noticed his focus on the pack.

“What is your mission out here, child?” she asked, rather calmly. Was this some trick? Master Kenobi said she was aligned with the Sith!

“Like I’d tell you anything,” he retorted, taking the defensive stance Master Teller had taught him. She let out a sigh, but her eyes tracked him like a predator. He recalled another Jedi noting something about how this Siren was not human, and the way she watched him with absolute stillness confirmed it. She was creepy. When she did move, it was fluid, almost feline, predatory. She made him feel like prey.

She was scary to look at: her scarred face, spiralling yet jagged tattoos and that steady gaze. She looked like some kind of monster from a youngling story book. Just like the kind of witch that might eat children, towering over him with her evil mismatched glare. 

“You are a child,” she hissed with a curled lip. “Why would the Jedi send children into warzones?” Clearly she was unimpressed with what she considered a lack of a challenge. Farley had enough of being toyed with, left behind and underestimated. He let out a cry as he launched himself at the witch. 

“I’ll show you what this child can do.”

----

The colours in the Force changed, right before the attack. Lights sparking in reds and yellows moments before the Jedi Knight was set upon by her unknown attacker and her physical vision went dark. She had called for her Padawan to get clear-- she was not sure of the extent of the danger, and their mission came first. The medical supplies were the most important. Farley had to get them to the village, Avona had to hold off the enemy. She was the Master. She would protect her Padawan.

The man was revealed as he launched through the now clearing smoke, Avona saw that he was Zabrak: though little of him could be seen, only a set of distinctive horns. His face was partially covered from the nose down by a cloth mask. She did not recognise the patterns in his ochre skin, but she recognised the anger in his eyes. The hatred. The colours of light that flared and faded in the Force as he moved with all the grace of a seasoned warrior. 

He struck at her with a curved blade, flaming green, the shade similar to her own lightsaber. It sliced mere inches from her pale face. Her equally pale eyes darted to him as her blade clashed against his. When it met with her saber, she couldn’t cut through it.

His movements were swift and full of rage. The colours flashed around him in lights that only she could see. Her connection to the Force was steeped in the hues of the living world: she perceived it uniquely and unlike most other Jedi. The colours warned her with a spark that allowed her to anticipate her enemy's movements.

The young Zabrak was angry, though she had no idea why, nor did she have time to think. Avona’s training ensured she stayed in the moment. But she was aware that this Zabrak was unfamiliar. 

She fought him back with swift and measured movement. He dove left, she blocked. He swung a kick to her chest, she backflipped. She waited for a break in his guard, after a flurry of strikes, and she hit back. 

He was a brilliant warrior, but unrefined. He was vicious, but untrained in the way of lightsaber combat. It did not mean he was not a strong match for her -- as she quickly realised when she saw the spark too late and was shoved back hard against a huge tree by an unseen blast of pressure. 

He could wield the Force.  Who was this warrior?

"What is it you want?" she bellowed at him. She reached out in the Force, sensing the proximity of her enemy, and her Padawan. The Zabrak before her did not speak, but his pale and almost translucent, colourless eyes glared at her. It gave away his desires.

To kill. 

She sensed her Padawan some distance away, but not nearly far enough! Had neglected to obey her instructions again?

She leapt back from the Zabrak assassin and turned, only to witness a white-haired figure, fending off Farley’s lightsaber attacks. He was in danger.

She moved to rush to his aid, but the assassin stepped into her vision, the wicked blade driving downward. Avona only just blocked it. She required focus. This warrior was no match for her in battle. She was a Jedi Knight, skilled in the art of combat. She needed to put him down quickly, so she could assist her Padawan.

She dug in her heels, and faced him, raising her blade. She charged. It was life or death -- she had to kill him. 

----

A child. 

The boy was a child! Little older than the Togruta Zaiya had met some weeks ago. It wasn’t supposed to be a child! 

Zaiya fended off the attacks from the miniature Jedi with relative ease, though he had been trained very well. Why had Feral insisted on taking on the Knight? Why had the Jedi sent out a child for this?!

There were supposed to be two Jedi but no one mentioned he was a kid! She grit her teeth and kept the younger one at bay while she tried to figure a way out. If she really focused, she could kill him rather easily, but she wasn’t trying to. Surely the Knight was enough. She could help Feral… then they could go! Just leave the human behind, he could finish whatever mission he was on. 

Maul could get mad later, but she was not planning to kill him. She was just going to keep the kid out of the way so Feral could finish his fight. A quick glance told her he was keeping his own for now, but this Jedi was clearly skilled. 

“I’d rather not kill you, kid,” she said, looking down at him. There was something in his eyes that unsettled her. Something that reminded her of someone else. 

A long time ago. 

“I won’t go down without a fight,” he replied confidently and slashed at her knees. She leapt back, circling the boy while keeping her blade high. He was feisty, and strong willed… he also had the classic streak of arrogance she had seen in many Jedi she had met. It might have been too late for him. 

“How about you put the weapon down before you hurt yourself?” she retorted and gave him a shove with the Force, knocking his legs out from under him, though she didn’t chase him, just watched him tumble. 

He leapt to his feet with a competent, yet slightly clumsy back spin, and circled around to protect the backpack he’d tossed away. 

“I won’t let you take the medicine,” he warned, slashing at her side. She twisted away, deflecting the blow. 

“I don’t have any interest in your medicine, boy,” she snorted back at him. 

“Liar. You’re a traitor to the Republic!” he growled, his mouth curling in determination. 

“Can’t be a traitor if I never believed in it in the first place,” she countered, kicking him back again, if she could at least knock his weapon away-- 

“Argh--!” She heard Feral cry out, and Zaiya was distracted, seeing Feral clutching at his arm. The boy charged; only to be met with a wave of the Force, mingled with green smoke as Zaiya leapt to the aid of her brother. 

The pale Jedi swung her blade down to deliver the killing blow -- when Zaiya’s blade blocked its target. 

“Not today, Jedi,” she hissed. The Jedi’s eyes widened, as she too recognised Zaiya. 

“The Siren…” 

Zaiya shoved her back and began to circle, while Feral stumbled to his feet behind her. 

“My reputation precedes me, I see,” the Nightsister responded grimly. 

“Master!” the boy cried, rushing forward to aid the woman. 

“Stay back, Farley,” the woman warned calmly, holding out a hand, but not looking away from Zaiya. “Take the medicine and go.” Her instructions were clear, steady. Zaiya saw no reason to interfere with Farley's orders. By the time he reached the village and alerted the Republic troops they had scouted, the Jedi would be dead. She and Feral would be gone.

The boy hesitated. After a moment turned to grab his pack and run. At least he knew when to listen.

The Jedi - an Umbaran from what Zaiya could tell - regarded the equally pale Dathomirian with narrowed eyes. 

“You are… different than I expected,” the Jedi said slowly. What was that supposed to mean?

“Sorry to disappoint,” Zaiya said sarcastically. 

“There is conflict in you.” Immediately Zaiya’s expression hardened and she curled her lip. How dare this Jedi think she knew more about her than herself! Conflict?!  

“Is there.” She spoke flatly, more a challenge than a question. 

“Where’s the other one?” Feral asked from behind her. 

“A Padawan is no test of skill, the Knight will do,” Zaiya replied sharply, leaving no room for argument. The Jedi gave her an infuriating, knowing look. 

“What is your name, Jedi?” Zaiya demanded, before Avona could speak.

“Why do we need her name? We’re just going to kill her,” Feral snarled. He blamed the Jedi for attacking his brothers, hurting them… for not saving them, or any of the other Nightbrothers. But he also held true to the Nightbrother belief of strength prevailing. For him, he had begun a challenge, and now he must win. 

“An opponent must be respected,” she told him. “We must remember the dead.” The Jedi regarded her coolly. 

“I am Jedi Knight, Avona Teller. If you are to kill me, may I at least know the names of my murderers?” she asked with a calm only a Jedi could hold. At least a Jedi would not grovel and beg for life. 

They did not fear death. Feral gave a snort behind her, he was not so in touch with the spiritual aspect of death, but he respected Zaiya enough to honour her wishes, she knew. 

“I am Feral of the Nightbrothers of Dathomir.” 

“You know my name,” Zaiya began but the Jedi Avona just looked at her. 

“I know the name you use as a title… What is your true name?” It was a bold question. No one but the family knew her name. Did it matter now? She had left Dathomir. Avona was about to die…

“Zaiya,” she said, keeping her blade in the ready position, “Zaiya Valessa, formerly of the Lu’Lupta Clan.” Her face was impassive, but a hint of amusement curled at the edge of her lips. 

“Zaiya Valessa,” Avona repeated. Zaiya grimaced, her name sounded wrong coming from this Jedi, souring the entertainment she felt at this Jedi’s presumptuousness. Still, it felt correct at least that Avona would be granted this respect. She was a worthy opponent after all. 

“Avona Teller,” she replied, “you are going to die.” She stepped back, ready to let Feral finish what he started when she heard a cry to her left. 

She saw a flash of plasma and jerked her blade up instinctively. Only to realise it was the boy. 

The Padawan. 

He gasped and sputtered, coughing up blood as his lightsaber dropped and his eyes lowered to Zaiya’s curved blade buried in his chest. 

“No,” Avona lamented and Zaiya heard the Force around them become a torrent of pain and rage and sadness. The once calm Umbaran launched at her and Zaiya could only stare at the boy with wide eyes at the end of her blade. 

What was he doing?! Why had he not fled as he was told?! 

Feral intercepted the strike meant for Zaiya, pushing the distraught Jedi back with all the fierceness of a warrior. Zaiya pushed the shock aside, the rage rising in her. 

Idiot! Foolish child! What was he thinking?! She withdrew her blade slowly, and he fell back onto the mossy ground. His brown eyes searching, his face contorted in pain. He was fading fast, but he was suffering. 

She heard a cry and leapt to one side, avoiding Avona’s blade by mere inches. The boy’s condition had to wait. 

----

No… 

Farley. 

She couldn’t let this happen. Everything moved so fast. One moment, all was calm, she was talking them down. It was just her, and the two Zabraks. Farley was safe. Why did he come back?

Avona attacked. She had to keep the panic at bay, she had to save her Padawan. The colours of the Force flared in sharp, frantic blasts. Her emotions were too raw to be fully controlled. Farley. She had to protect him.

The Nighsister was a traitor to the Republic. She had stabbed Farley. Her Padawan. A child. Her vision was filled with the clashing of green on green as the offending witch faced her. Avona let out a cry as she charged. 

She flipped back to get some distance, if she could grab him-- 

But Siren was too quick, closing in and slashing at her. Avona blocked, pushing the witch back to attack again-- 

“Ahh!” she cried out as pain bloomed across her back. The Jedi stumbled. Another cut across her arms, and her grip faltered. No. Farley. Her breath caught as she felt agony searing in her middle. The long blade of Feral’s weapon stuck out from her belly. The marked warrior and traitorous witch had bested her. She tried to reach for her weapon, but her knees gave out. 

Avona collapsed; her vision and the colours began to fade. 

As she stared at the sky, her pain began to dissipate. Her training had cushioned her fall into death, but she couldn't go. 

Not yet. 

She sensed Farley's life-force draining across from her: it wouldn't be long now, until he was ready. She was determined to wait for him, to guide him one last time. They could return to the Force together.

She reached out to him, calming, soothing. 

I'm here. Then she stretched herself across the galaxy, in the Force and the spectrum of colours. She called to her, one last time. Vibrant memories of burnt orange skin, a soft embrace. Warmth, acceptance, a lifetime of neglected touch. A vow to something bigger than them all. 

As Avona lay dying, committed to her order until the very last moment, she made her final promise, and knew that Shaak-Ti could hear her.

I will find you.

Notes: For those of you paying attention, the Jedi and Padawan are not in fact mine, but belonging to the amazing, the talented, the legendary @eloquentmoon - if you haven't checked out their stuff on tumblr or AO3 then I would offer a recommendation. Moonie is a phenomenal writer and has actually written a piece for me as a gift of Maul and Zaiya and wow, it really knocked my socks off. Check her stuff out if you have a moment.

As always I ask for comments, reblogs or the like. I love feedback, it really helps in the creative process and I very very very much appreciate any and all comments of support.

If you wanna support me further in my artistic or otherwise creative endeavours, check out my Patreon. I hope you all have a fantastic day!

----

Tags: (If your name is crossed out then check your settings or username -- Tumblr is not letting me tag you!) @alwayssnivellus @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @ashotofspotchka @justalittletomato @nahoney22 @eloquentmoon @stardustbee @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @rain-on-kamino @bacarasbabe @lifeless-being @lazarithebellydancingmime @robotswithscarves @herbalinz-of-yesteryear

Wanna be notified when I post my next work? Join/Leave my tag list

[rosethreeart]

Hot take: it is objectively morally correct to draw Alfred as a poc!!!

YES!!!

It especially bothers me when people are like “America fans need to acknowledge the shitty imperial past that the country has had!!!” But still keep him white. Being a shitty person and being a POC are not two mutually exclusive things and treating them like they are minimizes the issues that occur especially inter-communally and it also infantilizes poc. It doesn’t matter who you are or your background you are capable of having racist thoughts and doing racist actions.

You can’t demand that fans of a character make America a bad person historically without acknowledging that America is built on the backs of slaves and immigration who are integral to the history of the country and NOT acknowledge that those people are people and this would be reflected in the personification himself, simply because it makes you feel better that if person you are villainizing to a potential racist, xenophobic, or just asshole-ish degree is only ever white.

Now I have issues with nations being portrayed as their governments in general so I’m gonna stop myself before I end up sitting here writing an essay.

[foggyfanfic]

Rant about ship wars in the ATLA fandom under the cut

With the live action coming out recently, I dipped my toes back in the ATLA fandom and I just… why are the ship wars STILL so vitriolic?! It ended like fifteen years ago, why are people still getting so angry about this? I guess these days I identify as a multi shipper (even if I will always have my favorite), because it’s actually not that hard to see the different ways different characters fit together. Honestly, it’s kind of fun to explore how Toph might foil Aang vs Sokka, or so on or so forth. I don’t know, there are ships I vibe with more than others, but they all have good and bad traits to them. They all bring out different sides to the characters and that’s fun. I can understand arguing why the dynamics of your Otp fit the show’s narrative better then the dynamics of your Notp, but why has it become a question of morals? Even at my most Thirteen I never saw my ship as morally superior to another ship because…? Why would I?

I get why people get up in arms for things like incest or pedo ships, I don’t think attacking somebody for their fictional ship is ok, but at least I get the outrage. Ngl I do tend to block that sort of stuff on sight cuz I don’t want to see it, but that’s kind of the point. This doesn’t need to be a huge drama. If somebody’s ship really bothers you that much just block the tag. Ta da! Now it’s gone, yaaay.

Sorry to rant, I’m just bummed I have to wade through essays on why shipping these two characters together makes you a rape apologist or a colonizer or whatever to get to the essays on themes and symbolism. I was scrolling on Reddit and somebody asked why there are people who don’t ship Kataang, like a fool I put in my two cents (I do like them but some of the season three writing decisions call for fix it fics). Oof! People did not like that. I didn’t even go into detail because I know one person’s “Hm :/“ is another person’s “Aaaw :D”, and I try to avoid raining on parades. I made an active effort to clarify this is my opinion and I’m only giving it to answer the question but I had a whole deluge of people acting like I shot their dog and danced on its corpse. The thing is I want to discuss what I see as weak writing because I know other people will have a different perspective than I do, and they can point out things that didn’t occur to me. I don’t want to fight anyone about cartoon characters kissing, but I do want to explore the story with other people.

Ah well, maybe if I give it another 15 years people will finally settle down.

[aspenwritesstuff]

Part Four: Star Pupil

🌹 prev 🌹 masterlist 🌹 next

🌹 taglist: @drhsthl @propertyoftoru

He walked towards the open door of your room, smiling gently as the same smell that lingered on your clothing filled his nostrils - heavy floral notes accompanied by something more savory…sandalwood, maybe? He’d considered asking you what perfume you wore when you were awake, but quickly shook his head to remove the thought. What a weird thing to ask. 

🌹 warnings: alcohol consumption, negative self talk/subconscious insecurity, events occuring whilst asleep (being tucked in, nothing nefarious!), love interests are a lil dumb dumb

🌹 wc: 3.3k

🌹 a/n: because of you guys’ sweet feedback I was hit with sudden motivation to work on this next part. 🥺 I'm not kidding when I say reblogs and comments add fuel to the my creative spark. thank you, as always, for loving my work and supporting it. Feedback and likes and comments just make me so “🥰❤️💕” and I appreciate you all so much. You’re very dear to me. I hope you enjoy this new part, and I eagerly await your responses!

The last time Felix was this nervous was the day he’d told his family he was moving away. 

The familiarity of the bar did little to nothing for the butterflies overtaking his stomach as he skimmed the groups of people for the woman of his dreams. 

He heard her before he saw her, the laugh he was so accustomed to hearing from across the bar cutting through the chatter of the other patrons instantly bringing a smile to his lips. 

That was, until he remembered he actually needed to speak with her. 

The smile was soon replaced with a slight frown, brows pulling together as he debated just walking back out to the truck and calling it a night - he made it this far, that’s good enough. Right? 

He could already picture your disapproving scowl and the shake of your head as you chastised him for giving up so quickly. The thought of disappointing you gave him courage, somehow, as he straightened his back and took a deep breath. 

As luck would have it, there was an empty seat on the barstool directly next to Ryujin. Luckier yet, she didn’t seem bothered by Felix’s taking it - he honestly wasn’t even sure if she’d noticed his presence. 

She held her hand up and caught the attention of the barkeep on duty, politely requesting a refill of her drink. Within a few minutes, a new glass of the yellow-pink ombré was set on a fresh coaster in front of her. 

“Maui Sunset?” Felix asked, using his knowledge of drinks to his advantage in an attempt to jump start conversation. 

She turned to him with wide eyes, smiling politely before nodding. Felix returned the gesture, gulping hard as though to keep the aforementioned butterflies from escaping through his lips before raising a hand himself - ordering the same. 

She cocked her head at this, watching as the bartender set an identical beverage in front of Felix. He took a sip, glancing towards her out of the corner of his eye before chuckling. 

“What? Is it really so strange?” 

“I mean, no, I—“ she cut herself off, sipping at her own beverage before continuing, “I’m just not used to seeing a man so unconcerned with ordering a —“ she stopped suddenly again, flushing slightly as she looked down. 

“Girly drink?” Felix offered, smirking innocently at her nervous expression. She nodded again, giving an apologetic upturn of her lips as he kept speaking, “I used to be self-conscious, y’know.” 

“Oh?” She questioned, turning her body towards him as she grew more interested in the man she hadn’t bothered to remember the name of before. 

“Mhm,” he continued after another sip, “My friends would tease me - still do, actually!” 

“Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side after mimicking his action. 

“Used to,” he admitted sheepishly, stirring his drink with the black plastic stir-stick, blending the hues into a vibrant orange.

“What changed?” she was hooked now, leaning forward into her hand - elbow on the counter - as she hung on every word. 

“I figured that it’s not my problem that they’ve got some weird vendetta against sweet things,” he said with a shrug, feigning indifference despite the way his heart raced at her newfound proximity, “Not my fault that I like myself enough not to pretend to like the other things.” 

Ryujin threw her head back and laughed, “I actually feel the same!” Her face still held the mirth of her outburst, in the form of a grin, as she explained, “My friends will always order shots when they wanna celebrate, but I hate the way tequila tastes. They tease me for opting out,” she took another drink, watching Felix carefully as he took in each word, “But I’d rather spend my money and time with something I enjoy.”

Felix’s heart lurched in his chest as she smiled at him, hope filling the deepest crevices of his mind as he finished off his drink, “I’m really glad you agree. You seem really nice,” he admitted, anxious enough that he may as well have confessed. 

“So do you,” she agreed, still giving him a sweet smile. 

“I hate to cut this short, but I only had time for one drink before heading out,” Felix spoke genuinely, feeling guilty for having such a joyful moment while you waited alone in the car. 

“Aw, really?” Ryujin pouted, lower lip jutting out sending a jolt straight into Felix’s heart, “I was hoping to talk more! You’re different, I think.” 

“If you’d like - it’s fine if not -“ he inserted the second bit as an assurance, doing his best to come off as the sweet man he truly was, “ - I could give you my number?” 

Ryujin nodded quickly, pulling out her phone and handing it to Felix - who did an excellent job at containing the giant smile he could feel twitching at the corners of his lips as he handed it back to her. 

“Felix, huh?” she murmured, meeting his eyes once more as she gave him a final smile, “I’m Ryujin.” 

Felix, of course, knew this. But he grinned brightly in response, giving a sweet, “Pleasure to meet you,” before walking towards the exit - allowing his excitement to show the second the door closed behind him. 

You’d just begun to consider catching a nap when a bouncing head of blonde illuminated under the neon caught your attention. Judging by the smile on the attached face, you found it easy to assume that it went well. 

As Felix climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck, the expectant glimmer in his eyes made you ask him anyways. 

“So, how was it?”

As soon as you’d asked, he lit up. Nearly wiggling in his seat as he spoke, he reminded you of an excited schoolgirl being asked to the prom. 

He explained from start to finish, including how nervous he was to approach at all. When he told you about relating to her by choice of drink, you couldn’t help the swell of pride in your chest. He’d found his opening, without you guiding him. 

“She seemed to really want me to stick around, y/n!” he beamed. 

“You should offer classes, your advice really works!” he gushed.

“The execution was just as important, Felix,” you deadpanned, “I may be an okay teacher, but you’re a star pupil!” 

“Really?” His eyes were on the road, but sparkling nonetheless as he received your praise. 

“Really,” you affirmed, unable to contain your own grin at the sight of his contagious smile. 

“I was so nervous,” he admitted, chewing on his lower lip, “I still kind of am. What if she doesn’t get back to me? And then she sees that I’m a bartender and feels awkward? And then she’ll think I’m a creep and then —“ 

“Felix,” you interrupted, cocking a brow as he simply continued, drumming his fingers anxiously on the center console. 

“She’s gonna avoid the bar at all costs and, oh god, what if I messed up and ruined my chances? I knew I should’ve had you come in with me —“ the speed of his fingertips accelerated as he spiraled into his own doubt - though you could’ve felt annoyed, you instead found yourself wishing you could pull him from his mind. 

“Felix!” 

“I always end up having done something irritating when I think everything’s fine, she probably thinks I’m just weird and annoying and—“

“Lixie…” you placed your hand on top of his, ceasing the soft thumps alongside his ramblings. He gave a sideways glance towards you, panic evident despite the brevity of the eye contact, “You did just fine. You’re fine. Breathe.”

And he did. As felt his hand relax beneath yours, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. His long exhale did wonders for the worry you had for him. 

It was difficult for you, seeing him upset. Unnatural, really, to watch someone so full of sunshine and love be shrouded in stormclouds. 

Now content that he wouldn’t continue his self-depreciating tangent, you pulled your hand back - suddenly self-conscious at how easily it came for you to offer him such an intimate comfort after such a short time. 

He was just so comfortable and easygoing, it came so naturally to ground him into reality however you could. Still, though, the awkwardness you helped Felix get away from seemed to take residence in your own mind. 

“I’m sorry—“ you’d started, ready to try to explain why you’d even consider doing what you had. 

“Thank you—“ he said at the same time, genuine gratitude thickening his tone with emotion. 

“Thank you?” you peered at his profile, watching as the streetlights briefly illuminated his features before he faded back into the dark. 

“Well, yeah,” he spoke as though it should be the most obvious reaction, “Sometimes my mind gets away from me, y’know?” 

You hummed, understanding completely how it felt to be aware of your own contributions to your fears but completely helpless to stop it. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak again, still feeling uncomfortable with yourself despite his thanks. 

The cab of the truck was peaceful, quiet but not disconcertingly so, with tire treads against concrete providing a stable white-noise that encouraged the wandering of your mind. Felix had said it was fine, even having seemed to be thankful for your affectionate touch, so why did your cheeks stay flushed with embarrassment? You huffed quietly, both irritated and resigned, before pressing the side of your head against the cool window in an attempt to fight off the lingering warmth in your cheeks. 

Felix flicked on the radio, singing along softly - and an octave deeper - to the pop song that played, seemingly content to settle into the wordless drive with you. It didn’t feel unpleasant to share the quiet - rather than discomfort, the silence itself was tranquil. You quickly found your eyelids drooping as you listened to Felix’s voice, fighting with every fiber of your being to stay awake. 

The warm glow of streetlights passing you by grew fuzzier, Felix's voice further away, and the flush of your cheeks all but disappeared as sleep crept it's way into your bones.

Jisung’s familiar grin brought a matching one to Felix’s features as the former exited your apartment building, spotting the truck easily and making a beeline towards it. Felix had noticed your lack of consciousness as he parked, the peaceful look on your face making him immediately feel guilty at the thought of rousing you from sleep. 

He wasn’t sure that he’d ever seen you look so completely unbothered, each worry line of your face ceasing to exist while you slept. Your lips were slightly parted, typical frown nowhere to be seen as your steady, rhythmic breathing became audible only at the cut of the truck’s engine. He’d reached out to touch your shoulder, hoping to wake you but stopping short at the soft sigh of content you produced whilst curling further into yourself.

He absolutely could not be the one to interrupt that. 

He’d shot a quick text to Jisung, having gotten his number from you after being too nervous to ask following the near-brawl of their meeting, snapping a photo of your sleeping frame to send along with a straightforward, ‘help.’

Luckily, Jisung had been waiting at the apartment for your return. He’d laughed upon seeing the text, staring at the photo of your sleeping face with a mixture of affection and humor. He supposed he should’ve warned Felix about the effect car-rides seemed to have on you - but, then again, he wouldn’t have this absolute gold-mine of teasing material now if he had. 

Felix got out of the driver’s seat and met with him outside of your door, catching a glimpse of your peaceful face through the slightly-fogged glass bringing a sweet look into his eyes. He’d grown quite fond of you in your short time together. He’d almost begun to feel a sense of responsibility for you; for your safety, for your happiness - for you, in general. 

Jisung greeted him warmly, giving one of those hugs that men seemed to think was somehow more macho than just embracing the other - with hands clasped in a prolonged high-five between them and a chaste pat on the back before releasing contact. 

“She’s really out, huh?” he chuckled, peering past Felix to your sleeping face.

“Yeah,” Felix agreed, turning to look towards you as well, “I swear, she was awake one second –”

“And completely zonked the next?” Jisung laughed, reaching for the door. As he pulled it open, your body slumped towards the now-open space you’d once been resting your weight against.

“Shit!” Felix hissed, lurching forward as he watched gravity betray your body in slow-motion. The image his mind conjured of you colliding with the concrete made his chest ache, the mere concept of harm befalling you making him feel as though he could burst into tears.

Without taking the time to think, Felix ducked down, opening the arm closest to you as panic brought a bile to his throat. The fear kept his heart racing, even as your cheek made contact with his shoulder, though his sigh of relief would keep anyone from knowing. He stood slowly, raising you from what had to be an uncomfortable angle to your previously assumed position - save for your head, which now rested in the crook of his neck rather than against the window of his truck - and shot Jisung a half-serious glare. 

“Fuck, that was stupid, huh?” he asked, a nervous laugh covering the actual shame he felt for almost busting your face. Felix didn’t justify that with a response, knowing - or, at least, hoping - that Han wouldn’t have purposefully done something to hurt you. That didn’t stop him from feeling just a tinge of anger towards him, though.

“No harm done,” Felix whispered, giving him a nod before turning back to your frame. The blonde was much stronger than he looked, linking his free arm under your leg to pull you completely from the cab. You stirred slightly, murmuring something completely unintelligible in a breathy, sleep filled tone as Felix kicked the door shut behind him. 

“You got her?” Han asked, obviously surprised by the strength of the man before him. Felix gave him a nod before jerking his chin towards the door to the complex.

“Mhm, can you get the door?” Felix had wanted to say something snide, commenting on the irony of his concern after nearly introducing you to the pavement. Han gave a thumbs up before jogging back to the door - Felix in tow with you cradled in his arms, passing by him through the newly opened door. 

Han squeezed past the two of you in the narrow entryway, climbing the steps with the occasional glance back to ensure Felix wasn’t experiencing a struggle with your dead-weighted sleeping figure. To his surprise, Felix seemed completely unbothered, climbing the steps with the speed of someone unencumbered by another person’s body. 

They made it to your door in silence, save for your occasional nonsensical mumble. Han held the door open wide, stepping aside to allow Felix as much ease as possible to get you inside. The latter held your head closer, exercising extreme caution so as not to wake you up with a doorframe to the skull, side-stepping into the apartment with Han close behind. 

“Where’s her room?” he aired his question with his hand still gently supporting the back of your head, looking up towards Han to notice which direction he pointed in, “Thanks.” 

He walked towards the open door of your room, smiling gently as the same smell that lingered on your clothing filled his nostrils - heavy floral notes accompanied by something more savory…sandalwood, maybe? He’d considered asking you what perfume you wore when you were awake, but quickly shook his head to remove the thought. What a weird thing to ask. 

Your bed being unmade was a stroke of luck, giving Felix a much easier future of getting you tucked under the covers. He approached the side of the mattress, placing your legs down first before leaning down with you to prevent any sudden jolt pulling you from dreamland. With painstakingly careful movements, he slid his hand out from under your hair and went to pull away. 

He was nearly completely removed from you when your fist clenched around the collar of his shirt, tightening with a desperation he hadn’t once seen from you. He turned to look at your face, wondering if you’d woken up and were upset that he’d entered your room without asking, only for you to still be unconscious. The furrow between your brows had returned, though - and your lips had pulled downwards into a frown, lower lip trembling slightly. 

“What did I do..?” you mumbled, sleepiness weighing down what otherwise would’ve been a heart-wrenching whine. Felix tilted his head as he knelt at the edge of your bed, cautiously lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair from your face. His mind raced as he wondered what was plaguing your dreams, chest aching as he realized that your peaceful rest was being plagued by worry. 

“What?” he asked softly, just in case you were conscious enough to need a reply, “What could you have done wrong?” his words came out sweeter than candy, his eyes never once leaving your face - searching for any inkling of consciousness. 

“I tried…” you whispered, head lolling to the side, “Tried my best…”

“I’m sure you did…” he assured, confusion evident in the upwards lilt of his voice. He moved his hand back from your face as he leaned down to pull off your shoes, only to be stopped by the grip you still held on his shirt. 

“Sorry…not enough…I can be more…” these phrases trailed off into silence, leaving more questions than answers in their wake as your grip relaxed on his collar, leading him to hope the worst was over. He felt his heart break a little at the sight of your mournful expression, breaths coming quicker as your head thrashed in the opposite direction. 

“You’re more than enough, y/n,” his voice was thick as he fought tears of his own, wondering who or what had ever made you feel the need to apologize for feeling less than what you were, “I promise.” 

He moved away for a moment to finally remove your shoes, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling the comforter over your shoulders. He placed his hand on your covered back and, feeling your muscles relax under the well-intentioned touch, began to rub small circles between your shoulderblades. Your breathing slowed, the affectionate motion driving away the negative thoughts your subconscious had dragged into your dreams, bringing Felix a wave of relief. 

As soon as he was content that you were no longer in distress, his hand fell back to his side. He stood, grabbing your shoes to place by the entrance as he made his way to the hallway - pausing in the doorframe to send you one last glassy-eyed glance. 

“You really are, y’know,” he spoke softly, watching the rise and fall of your breathing from beneath the blankets, “More than enough.”

With that, he pulled your door shut behind him and said his goodbyes to Jisung. It wasn’t until he was back in his truck that he allowed his emotions to swell. A single tear fell from his eye as he recalled the pain in your eyes whilst you apologized to an unseen force. 

That moment fully cemented his already firm intentions; however it had gone from a bet to a personal mission.

Love wasn’t dead, despite whatever had happened that made you believe so.

Love wasn’t dead, despite the anguish in your unconscious ramblings.

Love wasn’t dead, and he desperately - for your sake now, rather than his own - needed to prove you wrong.

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

LMAO your Quaritch hate post has a good point, but by that logic it also proves that he is better than his predecessor, since he had no obligation to give a shit about a random boy and yet he did anyway. Human Quaritch likely didn’t even care about Spider, but his clone found it within himself to connect to this kid so strongly that he ends up completely fucking up his mission for his sake. Whether Neytiri would have actually killed Spider or not doesn’t matter because either way Miles didn’t feel like taking that chance and opted to instead possibly fight two enraged Na’vi, which is literally a death wish after the stuff they did to his squad. He’s not good by any means, but human Quaritch would have shot those Tau’nui villagers and give fuck all about Spider’s feelings.

I have a whole list of asks to work through, but I'll bump yours right to the front, you silly little clown.

I don't think they're different characters, first of all. There is no plot or thematic emphasis given to Quaritch being a clone. That is not his point in this media. The point was that James Cameron wanted Stephen Lang back. They are the same character in James Cameron's eyes, the scripts eyes, and thematically. So just getting that out of the way.

I really need you guys to get this: claiming Human Quaritch didn't care about Spider is completely baseless. You have literally no evidence at all for it. It is a claim you all make to continue to separate the two. This claim is a bad faith way to try to make recom Quaritch (still a racist war criminal) look better than the genocidal maniac he was and is. It's really a bad look for you all.

I've said this a million times: not killing the Tau'nui (and the other villages he raided and burned, you do be forgetting those don't you) and not being even worst to abducted war prisoner child Spider ARE NOT GOOD THINGS. So if the war prisoner wasn't Spider he would've been worse to any other child? If Spider wasn't there he would've killed the villagers? Not good! Jesus Christ, if I kick a puppy and then you criticize me for it and I say well I didn't KILL the puppy??? That is a logical fallacy, my king. Saying things could have been worse doesn't make the awful things magically not as bad or not occur??

Finally, "after what [Jake and Neytiri] did to his squad," yeah idk I'm pretty sure the recoms would've been a okay if they didn't, idk, kidnap all those children and torch all those villages and also attack them. Stop sending me messages all artfully phrased trying to make Quartich seem like a victim. It's really stupid. It's not noble for Quaritch to "put himself in danger" by dropping his knife, he literally put himself in that situation a million times over.

You can't argue for what human Quaritch would have done to make Recom Quaritch look better, because you literally don't know. So don't bother. Like your villains and make whatever content you want, but when you start defending him and his actions and painting him as sympathetic and excusable, you are defending! Racism! Imperialism! Genocide! and war crimes!

[golden-songbird]

dealbreakers in sanders sides fanfiction for me (part one?)

(if i see these in a fan fiction im reading, i’ll probably stop reading or leave a bad review if that’s an option. also this is just my opinion please don’t be pressed, some of these im serious about hating but some are just things i find a bit boring or irritating.)

1. BABYTALK. i reblogged and added to a post about this on my main, but there are a lot of kid!sides fics out there with the most horrendous, disgustingly inaccurate, just cringey child characters on the planet. if i see another fic where virgil gets turned into a four year old and suddenly he’s all “oh no papa im scawed of da big mownstaw!” i will go crazy. not only is it wildly boring to read and makes me cringe, but it’s an amazing opportunity wasted! kids are hilarious and imaginative and they shouldn’t be reduced to whiny little things that just exist to be “cute pure smol beans 🥺” when KIDS ARE COOL and so fun to read about when they’re portrayed right. i’m writing a fic where logan is 7 years old, but he’s the SASSIEST LITTLE THING and he’s still a child with childish tendencies and interests, but he doesn’t have that inaccurately written speech impediment or the personality of a wet noodle. he’s funny and it’s obvious that he’s a kid without it being super cliche or on the nose. if you’re a person who struggles with writing children, or you’re reading this and you’re all like “oh shit i do that”, then my advice is to try interacting with children or observing them irl (without being creepy lol)! see their mannerisms and how they tell stories or interact with the world. the results might inspire you!

2. “i’m so small and weak and everything bad happens to me help me” x “i’m big and strong and perfect and i have no trauma and i’m always there to save the day” ship dynamic. NO. STOP THIS. i especially see this with prinxiety and it’s such a shame because first of all, a relationship like this is a hella toxic one, someone entirely relying on someone else for rescue or comfort while never providing the same in return? absolutely not. and second of all, it gets boring to read about when one character does nothing but give and the other does nothing but take. it makes things predictable and irritating to read. i don’t want to read virgil getting hurt over and over while roman saves him over and over. give me arguments and internal conflict, and maybe roman being saved for once? i just can’t with that dynamic, it sucks.

3. on the same vein as 2, when one character is the only one in the wrong, or there’s a character who’s never in the wrong. usually, the character who’s never in the wrong in fics are patton and virgil, which is not only just…something that rubs me the wrong way, but it’s also another opportunity missed. when you have a character who is at moral perfectionism all the time without a single mistake, or everything they do is perceived as “right” by other characters or even the writer when they actually are in the wrong fundamentally and it’s never addressed, it bothers me so much. let all your characters have the privilege of being in the wrong. it’s the best way for character development or change to occur. trust me on this one. let your precious innocent angels fall, because absolutely nobody is as innocent as they seem. this is one thing that always, without fail, makes me hate the fic. LET THE SIDES BE IN THE WRONG. PLEASEEEE.

4. this one is purely my opinion so i won’t expand upon it, but i hate seeing roman doing wildly out of character things just so he can be perceived as the villain. probably just because he’s my favorite but i digress! i love seeing roman make mistakes and pick himself back up again but when he’s just pure evil for the hell of it? nahhh not my thing, personally.

5. when characters are evil/bullies for no reason. this one isn’t always a deal breaker for me but it bothers me. i love a good villain character whose actions are completely understandable from their own pov, just wrong. it makes it so much more realistic and engaging. try giving your villain!sides a cool backstory, or a reason. it could lead to something neat.

6. poc sides but the author is white and does no research and the poc sides are the most heinously stereotypical people on the planet. as a filipino person, i know that the sanders sides fandom is like 99% wonderbread (white people), but it’s no excuse to create some of the things i’ve seen in these fanfics. here’s my advice: when making a side a poc, ask yourself why you chose that particular race? if your answers are something like “logan is asian because he’s smart!” or “roman is hispanic/latino because he’s romantic/because he’s stupid!” or “virgil is black because he’s tough and mean!” then…uh…that’s racist, my friend. ask yourself why you’re making one side this particular race versus another side. race and personality never go hand in hand for any reason. you can however say “roman is filipino because my friend is filipino and she reminds me of roman.” that’s okay, because you’re using someone as inspiration as a whole, not just their race. you can also say “i’m making virgil black because virgil is my favorite to write about and i want to research black culture and try my hand at writing a character who’s cultural experience is different from mine.” that’s also a slay. bottom line: do your research and don’t fall into racist cliches.

i’m definitely making a part two btw 😂 reblog with stuff you hate and i might add it if i agree!!

[moviemunchies]

I was almost sure I already had a Detective Pikachu review, but I can’t find it in my drive, so here we are.

When Detective Pikachu was announced, a lot of us were skeptical. Yeah, plenty of people wanted a live-action Pokémon movie when we were kids, but it didn’t seem like something realistic, and out of Detective Pikachu, a side game barely anyone had heard of? And Ryan Reynolds is voicing Pikachu?! Yeah, no, this is probably going to flop.

Except the first trailer dropped, and immediately we were like, “Wait a minute. This actually looks good, or at the very least plenty of fun. What the heck?”

Tim wanted to be a Pokémon trainer when he was a kid, but he grew up to be an insurance agent. But when his estranged father, a detective in Ryme City (a place where Pokémon and humans live side by side and there are no Pokémon battles), goes missing and is presumed dead, Tim goes to Ryme City to go through his father’s things. What he finds instead is his father’s Pikachu, which he (and only he) can understand, though Pikachu has no memory of what happened. 

So Tim, a young man with little Pokemon skills, and Pikachu, an aspiring detective, have to solve the mystery of what happened to Tim’s father, while avoiding a sinister conspiracy that threatens both humans and Pokemon.

This movie is loads of fun! I didn’t think that live-action Pokémon would really work, and yet it does? They manage to give realistic textures for entirely fictional anime creatures! That’s pretty darn impressive, in my book. I remember that some people were apparently bothered by the fact that Pikachu in this movie is fluffy, and apparently didn’t realize that he had fur in the anime, too; those people can shut up, because fuzzy Pikachu is adorable and looks fantastic, as do the other Pokémon in this movie.

Ryan Reynolds is also a surprisingly good voice as Pikachu? This casting announcement felt very weird to me, but it works. A lot of his lines are supposedly improvised, and they land pretty well, for the most part. There are a couple of jokes that don’t work; for instance, at one point Pikachu makes a joke about climate change denial during an earthquake, which doesn’t really make a lot of sense.

Justice Smith does a fantastic job here. Okay, yeah, his character’s not too complex, but he’s funny, he’s likable, and he does well with what  he’s given. When you factor in that he’s acting off of a CGI character, and that they didn’t even have a ball on a stick placeholder for him in many of those scenes? He does amazing.

There are some who have said that the events of this movie prove that its canon with the original anime. But I have my doubts–certain events are vaguely referred to, which could be references to either the anime or the games. At best we can infer that SOME events happened in the backstory similarly to the anime, but that’s about it. I’m also confused about random references to other countries, because I assumed Pokémon occurred in a world completely different from our own. Maybe I was wrong in that assumption.

If you like Pokémon, you’ll think this movie is awesome. Maybe you’ll be a little disappointed in that you wanted a greater variety of Pokémon to appear, but I think other than that you’ll be fine. There are still an astounding amount of Pokémon that appear in the movie, and they all look pretty good. The movie proved that a live-action Pokémon movie could actually work, which I didn’t think it would.

[siribetels]

(Theory) Ranmaru was faking his amnesia.

(This is a repost from my Twitter.)

I already wrote about the concept in my fic ‘Let Me Forget’, but the more I think about it, the more I feel like Ranmaru remembers everything from the very beginning. I think his actions throughout the entire show seem very suspect, heightened by the fact we never see anything from his perspective.

Ranmaru’s thoughts and feelings are kept secret to the viewer, and I theorize that it is because otherwise we would know everything that had occurred in the past. Takara talks to him in a way to bait him into saying something incriminating— bait he does not take, but only after a moment’s hesitation. He is acutely aware of Sirius’s presence since episode 2, seeming surprised and bothered by it. He is never shown questioning the strange things Sirius says to him, even as they grow far more personal.

Then we reach episode 11, and while it could be surmised that his memories are returning on their own after being triggered from seeing Sirius again in person, there is something very… suspicious in that when things go wrong, he knows right away exactly where to go and who to look for.

If we are to suppose that Ranmaru still has his amnesia, it seems absurdly strange that he would not only know where the source is of all this dark energy, but also the very person causing it, as the two of them have never ‘met’ before in these bodies.

Perhaps it’s an instinctual thing, perhaps Ranmaru can naturally sense dark magic where the others can’t… or perhaps he never really forgot, and recognized that it was a message from Sirius to come see him. Something to tell him that Sirius was done ‘playing games’ and would start causing far more severe problems for humans if Ranmaru did not come to him personally.

The place they meet again is not a location Sirius would think is meaningful for them together, —rather it is far more meaningful for Sirius specifically, being the place he met and lost the woman he loved—  but it is still a very significant place for them to reunite.

Of course, it is meaningful to Betelgeuse too, albeit in a horrible, upsetting way. But Sirius was never aware that Betelgeuse had been with him on that day all that time ago, and Ranmaru knows that.

Betelgeuse in the past seemed to already be aware that it was a place that Sirius liked (or perhaps had simply followed him the whole way when Sirius wanted to propose to his girlfriend), and with it being one of the only more private places shown in the flashback, yet still a place where it wouldn’t be unusual to run into another person, it would be obvious for Sirius to choose it as the place to call Ranmaru back to. And Ranmaru, knowing the location’s importance to Sirius, would naturally gravitate towards it when going to seek him out.

And Ranmaru never says anything to Sirius during their encounter. Beyond uttering his names, Ranmaru doesn’t say a single word to him throughout the whole thing, he doesn’t even physically do anything until he reaches up to touch Sirius during their kiss. All of this sounds improbable, when you would think that Ranmaru would at this point, after everything that has happened in the past few episodes, start asking questions first.

You would expect some manner of hostility, of caution, after Sirius’ blatant acts of violence and even outright threatening him the episode prior, but there is none. Ranmaru in these scenes does not act like someone who is missing his memory and wants to know what lay underneath himself.

In fact, he never has. The concept of his past and memories seem to mean remarkably little to him, he is never truly questioning anything that might have occurred in the past… but this could all be very normal if he simply wants to pretend those things never existed. He has no interest in his ‘memories’ and ‘past’ because he chooses to ignore them and live in the present, with the life he wants to have over the one that only means trauma and suffering to him.

Instead, Ranmaru listens, throughout this whole scene, as Sirius recounts their past together. From the moment they arrived in the human world, until the moment they separated, seemingly for good. And despite the firm but collected way Ranmaru has held himself through their whole encounter, it is when Sirius brings up the woman he loved that Ranmaru’s expression changes, just the slightest. His eyes begin to waver, and if you take it from the perspective that he already knows everything Sirius is telling him, it is that he knows what comes next in the story, and doesn’t want to have to endure it again.

Maybe Ranmaru’s silence through all of this isn’t that he wanted to know about his ‘missing’ past, but that he wanted to know what Sirius’s perception had been of their life together.

He wants to know what Sirius thought of him.

But in the entire episode, their close friendship is barely shown during flashbacks. When told from Hojo’s perspective, it is irrelevant to mention this aspect while talking with the others, but with Sirius, who wanted to just ‘talk about the past for a while’?

Ranmaru could very well be sorely hurt by the fact that Sirius does not talk about how the two of them had been to each other, but does go into detail to tell him about the woman he loved, whose presence inadvertently caused Betelgeuse so much pain.

After their kiss it is assumed that Ranmaru’s memories have come back to him, and whether or not he already had them is irrelevant from this point on, but the curiosity still stands. Perhaps Ranmaru really didn’t know anything, and perhaps he knew everything.

And in the end, who is Betelgeuse, and who is Ranmaru? It’s a difficult question to answer, because they are different people, but also the same. They are not separate personalities in the way one might traditionally think, rather in this case I would believe that ‘Ranmaru’ might not have existed initially, where all along throughout the story it has just been Betelgeuse with a new name and a slightly different body. But in the end, he has become ‘Ranmaru’ in his entirety, allowing himself to put his past as Betelgeuse to rest to begin his new life, finally as the person he wants to be, living the life he wants to live.

He will always be the man that loved and suffered, nothing can change his past as it panned out, but he is allowed to change his future.