#sorry for coming up with a planets cultural identity . will happen again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pushpinsheep · 3 years

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Hopefully this puts things in greater perspective because some tourists just don’t get it and need to hear this. For those who are curious and looking to travel in the future I hope you find this is informative! :) We could all use more perspective on linguistics and traveling imho. I have made some of these mistakes in the past too. We can all learn to be better guests/tourists. This mindset people have that not only is it okay for tourists to exploit and mistreat local populations, but it’s something that should be encouraged is wrong. You’re not entitled to anything special as a tourist just because you have enough money to play around somewhere “exotic” for a few weeks. Regardless of where people travel to. As a guest in someone else’s home you should put more effort into not being a total asshat. You will have a better time and you might learn something cool along the way. I will mostly be using France as an example since I live here and have more insight, but everything I say applies outside of France as well. Note: This information only applies to tourists. Immigrants and refugees are a unique situation and thus face different challenges and have different needs. A tourist chooses where to go and has time (and money) to plan for their trip, which is often only a few weeks or days. Immigrants and refugees often don’t have that same luxury and remain in the country for far longer. (in many cases permanently) Moving to a country places a greater linguistic and cultural demand on an individual. Remember to check your privilege. tourism =/= immigration/asylum. A) English is not the only language in existence. It might be a widely spoken language, but it’s not the most widely spoken language (that honor goes to Chinese) nor is it the only lingua franca. Chinese, Hindu, Spanish, French, and Arabic are all widely spoken across multiple borders and where you are on the planet will obviously dictate which one of these people go with. If you expect that to be English because your sphere of the internet happens to put you in that bubble of “my language or bust” ignorance then like... that’s on you pal. Get with the times and stop assuming everyone should just speak English. English speakers are not the only tourists and English, though widely used, is not the only other language a person might need. I have a friend from Laos who speaks absolutely no English. He doesn’t need it and never has. (even now) He speaks Lao (the regional dialects can be as different as Thai is from Laotian btw), Chinese, a bit of Thai, and French because they still use a lot of French for business dealings there. (something I didn’t know ngl) Assuming he should just speak English because “everyone else does” is ignorant. It’s rude. It puts no thought into his situation. It’s entitled. He’s traveled to visit friends in England and he has an English phrase book. He doesn’t need a lot of English so like... the phrase book is absolutely perfect. Most of what he does in England is sight see and speak Chinese with his friends. Be more like my friend from Laos. B) Official languages may not be the only language a country speaks within its borders. Regional and native languages exist and expecting the locals to speak a 3rd language on top of all that is unbelievably entitled. France has a number of them. There are people who are born and raised in France who don’t speak French in their day to day life. (or at all) Basque, Breton, Occitan, Alsatian, Yiddish, Ladino, Arabic and a number of others are all spoken within French borders. Many are at risk of being permanently lost (that’s why our new regional language law is important btw) and as a result a greater emphasis is placed on preserving them as opposed to learning something new. Most people have to learn the official language as it’s the only language a lot of countries will accept for paperwork, but anything else is up to the individual and you can suck an egg if you don’t like that. (this also applies to immigrants and refugees btw) Heck there are places in the US where people don’t even speak English day to day! Some places actually speak French or Spanish. I heard more Spanish in my day to day life than I did English where I grew up in NC! (moved to Florida and Spanish exploded. loved it!) C) Borders are a thing. People working and living across borders exist and English is often not the language they chose to go with as a result. France borders Germany, Spain, Italy, Belgium, England, and Switzerland. People who share these borders often choose to go with these languages. English is in there, but please note it’s not the only one. D) Culturally speaking a country may not like [insert common language here] and as a result may refuse to speak it. That’s entirely their choice. If you don’t like that then don’t visit the country. It’s really that easy. Colonialism is often a major factor at play in these situations. Respect that choice. You do not get a say in how people reclaim their identity. As for France? This might come as a shock to some people, but France doesn’t like England. I’m 100% certain these two places exist solely to punch each other in the nuts. (ball tap. an international past time) As a result getting English people to speak French or French people to speak English is about as easy as pulling your own teeth. I’ve been spit on for speaking English because people here just assume I’m from England or they hate “annoying Americans” and after seeing how y’all responded to the last post I made... yeah I totally get it now. Granted, that’s no excuse for someone being hostile, but it is something to keep in mind when you visit and applies to more than just France too. E) Retail workers and small shop owners don’t owe you shit. You have absolutely no right waltzing into a shop and demanding the staff speak your language (I don’t care how common it is) for the two weeks you’ve decided to play around in their home. Always ask them first. If they can’t or choose not to then tough luck. This is why a phrase book is important!

Retail workers and small shop owners get treated like shit enough. Some of y’all have never worked retail a day in your life and WOW does it show. Please respect retail workers and small shop owners. You don’t know what their day or life has been like. If they’re tired and don’t want to speak to you in a foreign language then that’s their right. I have had no issues using my phone or a phrase book to help communicate concepts when there is a language barrier. (and I fucking live in France. I’m not even visiting) Emergencies also happen and a phrase book or medical card in the native and/or official language is absolutely essential! Even if you just have an allergy to something! This is a great way to stay safe! When you visit another country being aware of and researching cultural differences includes linguistic differences. Tourists are guests. You don’t live here, you don’t get a say. Remember, learning a second language (esp if you don’t use it often) is really hard. If you’re visiting a country do not expect them to just use whatever language you speak. Mind you a phrase book is also important because people within a country may not have a strong grasp on English even if they do speak it. You can very easily get lost or injured without a phrase book to help you. These things allow you to better experience a country and communicate without actually having to learn the entire language... or any of it. And, once again, they exist for free online! You do not need to learn an entire language to visit somewhere, but you need to be prepared for there to be a barrier. People assuming I mean you need to learn a whole language are uh... really something else. Like do you guys think half the people bending over backwards to communicate with you know the full language? Go ahead. Fuck around and find out. ;) Obviously I’m not saying you should be treated poorly when visiting if you don’t know the language. Unfortunately no matter how much effort you put in there will always be someone who’s a jerk and I’m sorry for that. All I’m saying is as a tourist you owe it to yourself and others to be better prepared. Trust me. You’ll have a better time in the end. (and if you did the research you’d find that Paris is not the best first place to visit... even if you’re french lol) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GS64ZT4eWUA Please watch this guy’s video. It is hilarious and touches on a lot of the same points I just made. Thank you for your time. :) ---------------- Cultural tidbit for those who are curious about where I live in France: I live in Alsace currently! (moved from Lyon, but my spouse is from here) In Alsace you might meet people who speak English, but it’s also entirely likely you won’t! Alsace is also a very tourist heavy area because it looks like a German fairy tale and has a lot of tiny villages with cool stuff to do! I highly recommend visiting here over Paris! We have so many storks! (clackclackclack)

Our logo is a pretzel!

That being said, Alsace has its own regional language!

It’s not uncommon to see bilingual signage or to pass someone on the street and hear them speaking Alsatian. You’ll usually hear it from older people, children, or those from rural areas. It’s really fun to listen to and absolutely wild to see written on museum signs! Kids here will start school learning French, regardless of what they speak at home, which has resulted in a downswing of Alsatian speakers in recent years. That’s why the new regional language law I mentioned waaaaaay above is so important. It’ll allow schools to teach most of the day in Alsatian instead of French with the goal being fully bilingual adults! :) As of right now, most kids here choose German or English (depending on the school) as their second language. Some kids pick Alsatian and honestly? Good for them! I’m glad!

#sheep.txt #long text post #very long #txt #traveling #france #alsace #europe #tourism #language #languages

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hrtiu · 4 years

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Written for a prompt from @flybynite19. It’s not as fluffy as I initially intended, but I hope you like it!

“So she ran out this way?” Riyo asked, pointing down the imposing entrance to the RCMO.

Commander Fox nodded. “Yes, ma’am. She climbed onto that statue, then ran along the top of the monument.”

“The monument?”

Commander Fox pointed to the long slab of bronze-colored stone running the length of the promenade. “The First Battle Memorial, commemorating the soldiers lost during the Battle of Geonosis.”

“Ah,” Riyo said. She vaguely recalled when the monument had been constructed. It had been mostly intended to increase morale among the soldiers, and very few senators had found the time to attend the dedication ceremony. Riyo herself had been busy in a budget meeting that day, if she recalled correctly.

She paced down the long walkway, looking the scene of the crime up and down. She took notes on her datapad, not sure exactly what Chancellor Palpatine was looking for but determined to present a thorough report.

“And security along this walkway, what was it like that night?” Riyo asked.

“There’s a 24-hour watch along the main entrance, but we sent out extra forces as soon as Tano’s escape was discovered,” Fox said.

“I see.”

Riyo continued on down the promenade, her eyes lingering on the blaster marks that marred the brand-new memorial. She reached the pillars that marked the end of the walkway and jotted down a few notes on the large canons flanking the exit. Palpatine wanted to know how their security forces had failed to contain their Jedi prisoner and what measures might be taken to prevent this sort of thing happening again. It was a difficult problem, considering how invincible the Jedi seemed at times. What was the Republic to do if they ever found themselves at odds with their Generals?

She turned back to the Commander. “And these canons, are they-” She cut herself off, seeing that he was all the way back at the monument. He stood, hands behind his back, helmet tilted up at the imposing slab of rock.

Riyo jogged her way back to him. “...Commander?”

Fox started, the first time she’d seen him anything but composed and immovable. “Senator Chuchi, my apologies. How can I help you?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Would you mind telling me some more about this memorial?”

“It’s Geonosian stone, installed only a month ago. It gave the convict more cover to make her escape-”

“No, I mean, what does the memorial mean to you?” Riyo asked.

“Oh! Well…” he hesitated, then took a step towards the monument, resting his hand against the smooth stone. “It lists the designations of the fallen.”

“Designations?” Riyo moved a few steps closer to the Commander.

“Yes. My designation is CC-1010. We receive our designations before our names.” His finger glided along one of the names—designations, she mentally corrected—carved into the ruddy stone.

CC-1011, it read.

“Was he a friend of yours?” Riyo asked, her voice going soft.

“He was my twin.”

Riyo allowed herself a small chuckle. “Aren’t you all twins, in a way?”

She couldn’t see his expression behind his helmet, but she imagined a modest smile creeping up his face. “In a way, but 1011 was my tubemate. Like identical twins, we started out as one, then became two.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, though of course she couldn’t. Not really. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“That’s war, ma’am. Better that we be sacrificed than an innocent civilian.”

Riyo resisted the urge to grimace, an acrid taste filling her mouth. “Don’t say that,” she said, though wasn’t that exactly what the Senate believed?

“It’s a soldier’s job to live by the truth, even if it is difficult to accept.”

“Can’t it be our job to change things, if the truth is… isn’t right?”

Fox turned his head to her, his helmet tilted slightly to the side. “That might be a senator’s job, ma’am, but it’s not mine.”

A strained silence filled the space between them, and the weight of her office sat heavy on Riyo’s shoulders. He was right. Not everyone was in a position to change things, but she was. She needed to make the most of that.

Her chin dipped towards her chest, and she twisted with the gold bangle that hung around her wrist. “I swear I will do my best to make things right, Commander.”

“And I will do my best to protect the Republic, ma’am.” He nodded sharply to her and turned from the monument, apparently ready to move on. Riyo’s hand blocked his path, stopping him before he could pass her by.

“Forgive me, Commander, but would you mind telling me more about your twin? CC-1011?” she said. She worried that she was crossing some boundary of politeness, but the columns of nondescript numbers lining the stone monument in front of her begged for recognition, cried out for some kind of illumination.

Fox hesitated a moment, then turned slowly back towards the slab. “Certainly, ma’am.” His helmet tilted down towards his feet, and his hands met behind his back. He often rested with his hands behind his back in a loose parade rest, but Riyo noticed that this time his gloved fingers fidgeted with a nervous energy.

“CC-1011’s name was Fox,” the Commander said at length.

“But… isn’t that your name?” Riyo asked, wondering if there was some quirk of clone culture she was missing.

“It is now, but when I was a cadet I went by Jackal.

Riyo wrinkled her nose. Jackal sounded like the name of a brash, boundary-pushing firebrand, not someone with the poise and control of Fox.

“I know what you’re thinking, but back then the name fit. Then after Geonosis, I lost him. I took his name, in his honor, and tried to… Tried to be more like him. Tried to get over myself and my di’kut attitude.”

Fox looked back up at the monument, his hands falling to his sides. His helmet tipped far back, revealing a narrow sliver of skin just above the black bodysuit that covered most of his body. Riyo thought about CC-1011, the first Fox, and wondered where his body was now. Probably abandoned somewhere on that wretched planet. And yet here Fox stood, genetically identical and determined to carry on his brother’s legacy. If he took off his helmet, she’d see the departed Fox’s face.

It was a stupid idea, but Riyo had built her career on doing what she felt was right, prudence be damned. She took a step towards him and reached a delicate hand out, her fingers clasping loosely around his gloved hand.

He flinched. “Senator Chuchi-”

“Please allow me this small gesture of comfort, Commander. It is the duty of all sentient life to care for each other in our grief.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, just looked down at their joined hands. “Yes, ma’am.”

His fingers slowly tightened around hers, and she smiled, squeezing lightly back.

“I never had the pleasure of meeting CC-1011, but from what I know of you, there is no doubt in my mind he would be proud that you carry his name,” she said.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, his voice barely loud enough for his helmet to pick up.

They stood there for several minutes, the silence solemn but accompanied by a deep sense of peace. Riyo took the time to read each designation, noting the ones in sequential order and wondering if they’d been friends—wondering if they’d died together. She made sure to repeat each designation in her mind, to send a prayer of gratitude and mourning up to the heavens in their honor.

“Commander?” The faint sound of radio chatter coming from Fox’s helmet interrupted their vigil.

“Fox here,” Fox said, his fingers sliding from Riyo’s as he stepped back from the monument.

Riyo turned towards the end of the promenade, her hand feeling oddly light and bereft. A warm flush rose to her cheeks, though she didn’t understand why. It wasn’t as if whoever had commed the Commander had even seen them together.

Fox walked back to Riyo. “Apologies, Senator. The Chancellor needs me for a briefing. If you’d like to continue your inspection Commander Stone can relieve-”

“There’s no need,” Riyo said. “I’ve seen quite enough, thank you.”

“Very well. I’ll accompany you back to your transport.”

“Thank you.”

They walked together back to the docking bay where her driver waited for her, and Riyo felt strangely awkward walking alongside the Commander, unsure of what to say.

“I’m grateful for your help today, Commander Fox,” she settled on eventually, though the words felt thick and strange on her tongue.

“I’m not sure I did much to assist, but you’re welcome, ma’am.”

“No it was… illuminating.”

He nodded in response.

Riyo twisted the bangle around her wrist again. She opened her mouth, then shut it, then gave the bangle another good rotation. “I should have come here earlier.”

“I made the earliest time available to you, senator, but if there’s anything else I could have done-”

“No, I mean, I should have gone to the monument’s dedication. I should have seen this earlier.”

“Oh.” Fox said, silent for a long moment as they walked. “Well, you’re here now, ma’am. That means a lot.”

They arrived at the docking bay, and Riyo’s driver hopped out of the speeder to open the door for her. Fox held a hand out to her to help her into her seat, the gesture unnecessary but appreciated. She sat down in the speeder and looked up at him, imagining for a moment that she could see his piercing eyes through the opaque black of his visor. “I won’t make that mistake again, Commander. I promise.”

He nodded to her, and she knew his eyes were locked on hers. “I know, ma’am.”

#foxiyo #fanfic #commander fox #riyo chuchi #tcw #star wars

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

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What if...10b

Okay, so this ‘epilogue’ became... a monster. I decided to split chapter 10 into two parts because it was already so big, and, uh, yeah, now I’m splitting 10b into three parts. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ENABLE ME, PEOPLE. Your lovely comments, your kind reblogs and support turned this from what was supposed to be no more than 4 chapters into 90 000 word ramble.

*ahem*

So part 10b is Dulcy POV, 10c is chaotic everyone POV, and then there will be a bonus part for someone who didn’t get to join Dulcy and Dav’s little family.

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10a

Epilogue; Dulcy

“We’ll be back later, dad!” Corin exclaims from where he’s standing next to Din in the doorway, eager to call Davarax that at every occasion he can find.

Davarax nods and gives a light wave to the two teenagers about to step out of the house they have rented on this obscure, little planet and head into the nearby town. (Having picked up a bit of Motti credits makes things a lot easier.) “Duly noted, son.”

The slight smile on his face tells Dulsissia that Davarax is well aware of Corin’s need to constantly reaffirm their new relationship and indulges him with never-ending patience. But what she also notes is how Din hesitates half a second while Corin turns to leave and she sees there is hurt in his dark eyes as they linger on Davarax.

That evening, while Barthor wraps up his conversation with his father via the holo-communicator, Davarax holds Raga back until the boy is done and the line is free for her to call her parents.

Dulsissia glances after Barthor shuffling back towards their house, helmet held low and shoulders slumped. Just like during previous calls, his parents show close to no interest in their son and he is equally disappointed every time. “Dav?”

Davarax turns his attention away from Raga and over to Dulsissia. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you adopt the others too? Like you did with Corin?” Her heart breaks every time she sees these children with sadness in their eyes and Davarax is the one who always brings smiles to their faces.

Sighing, Davarax leans against the door frame. “It’s not that easy…”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, Paz and Raga have their families. The Saxons are… unique, but they love her. And Dez, well, I hope that maybe he’ll come to his senses.” Davarax looks over at Barthor’s retreating shape as well. “Barthor… I might have to talk to him about it.”

Dulsissia frowns as he doesn’t mention the most obvious one of all; “What about Din?”

“Din…” Davarax looks down at the floor. He looks guilty. “I messed that up. Big time.”

“He’d forgive you in a heartbeat.” Dulsissia declares. “He worships you.”

“Maybe.” Davarax replies, not sounding convinced. “But I don’t deserve his forgiveness. And after what he’s been through, I think Din needs to be allowed to hold on to his roots before another adult tries to pressure their identity on him.”

What that boy needs is a father, Dulsissia thinks, but before she can voice her thoughts she’s distracted by someone shouting. Looking over, she sees Raga’s mother in the holo-projector screaming at someone out of sight before turning back to focus on her daughter again.

“What was that, Raga? You said something about how many push ups? You’re up to what now?”

“Fifty-”

“PUT THAT DOWN!” Raga’s mother bellows to her right and then makes a frustrated grunt and reaches out to grab someone. “Here. Talk to your brother. I have to murder your other two brothers for a bit.” She steps away and a smaller Mandalorian with a green helmet takes her place.

“Raga. Still ugly I see. You really should have kept the helmet on.”

“Sioben. Still a moron, I hear. I was kind of hoping dad had followed through on his threat to dropkick you into space.” Raga counters. “Paz taught me some new tricks. I’m going to kick your ass when I see you again.”

Sioben shakes his head. “I don’t know why he puts up with you. He could have anyone he wants, he’s a huge badass ‘and’ a Vizla. I can’t think of a single reason why he lets you stick around.”

“Don’t hurt your brain trying to think.” Raga snarls.

“At least I have a brain. Unlike you.” Sioben fires back.

A hand appears and smacks into Sioben’s helmet and he goes toppling out of sight and Raga’s mother appears again. “Listen, I have to go. I’m a bit busy here. Say hi to Davarax from me. Be careful out there, Raga. Byebye.” The woman’s holo-image dissolves and she’s gone.

When Raga walks out of the room, Dulsissia reaches out and touches her shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“What for?” Raga asks with a huge grin. “Didn’t you hear that? She didn’t yell at me once!”

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax with a look of slight belief while the girl walks away, humming happily and he can only offer a weak shrug in return.

And on the subject of Paz and Raga...

While there are still sides to the Mandalorian culture that are still a mystery to her, Dulsissia remembers more than enough about what it was like to be a human a teenager to see what is happening there.

The two have been drawn together as friends since they were small children, as far as Dulsissia understands. They always gravitate towards each other. If you see one, odds are good that the other is nearby or about to appear. And Dulsissia feels both compassion and amusement as she sees the growing awkwardness as a different kind of attraction between them starts to enter the picture.

Dulsissia tries to hide her laughter when she sees Raga pretending to need a water break but only so she can let her gaze roam all over Paz as he continues his intense training next to her. Raga has always been climbing him like a jungle gym, but these days it brings a flush to her cheeks when he holds her close or play-wrestle with her, and Raga even smiles in her sleep the times she drowses off with her head resting on his chest. It’s a shame she seems unable to voice what she feels.

This leads to the seething anger in Raga’s eyes when Paz mindlessly flirt with the local girls and basks in their attention. An anger which causes her to pick fights with Din and the others, violent fights that always ends badly for at least one of them and Davarax has to patch them up while trying to calm Raga down.

At the same time, with a stealth worthy of admiration, Paz’ gaze discretely seeks out Raga with an interest and longing he doesn’t show any of the local girls desperately trying to hold his attention. His attention trail along her curves, he flushes at glimpses of her skin and it is kind of cute how he’s only happy if Raga is happy.

Unfortunately Paz seems too insecure, which is absurd, to actually show how her how he feels.

His temper is as bad as Raga’s, though, which causes Paz to one day actually punch a hole in a wall. He flat out refuses to explain why he’d done it, even when Davarax wraps up his bleeding hand and asks in a frustrated voice what is going on with him, but Dulsissia accidentally overheard earlier when Raga agreed to go out on a date with a suitor of her own and suspects that is why.

“I’m going to help them.” Dulsissia declares one morning after Raga had managed to draw both Din and Corin into a vicious brawl the previous evening, just after Paz had gone out to meet some girl.

Davarax grunts, half-asleep on his stomach with his face partly burrowed into the pillow. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

She sends him, or his back to be more precise, a dry glance. “Are you kidding me? Those two? If someone doesn’t help them along, it’ll take yeeaars.”

Davarax snorts a laugh. “At your own peril, cyare.”

Dulsissia thinks about all her excellent work as a matchmaker back on Seswenna. That included family ranks, politics and enough credits to buy a minor planet. These are two teenagers. She’s got this.

It’s a delicate mission. First Dulsissia establishes through a little research that there is absolutely no doubt that these two feel the same and are just too emotionally constipated to do something about it, then she goes to work on them separately. Hints, questions and light nudges.

It takes a surprisingly short time for them to admit to her what she already knows, but neither is willing to make the first move.

“Why not go for it?” Dulsissia eventually asks..

“I don’t think he/she thinks of me that way…” Raga/Paz replies. Her face bright red as she half-heartedly trains defensive moves with Dulsissia one sun-soaked day. Him with quiet sadness when Dulsissia delivers some clean laundry to his room one evening.

“I think you’d be surprised.” Dulsissia teases and winks.

After that, they become a little braver. Instead of just friendly bickering, Raga and Paz both add a little intent and teasing to their interactions, and that eventually develop into outright flirting.

During training Davarax sends Dulsissia a dry look when Paz, instead of following through with his attack, merely keeps his hands against the wall, fencing in the grinning and uncharacteristically passive Raga and hovers there with a slight smirk of his own. Davarax rolls his eyes when Raga, after flipping Paz over and have him land on his back, simply straddles his stomach and pretends to hold him down with her hands on his shoulders instead of following through with her attack and Paz, also uncharacteristically passive, looks like he’s enjoying himself more than anything else.

Dulsissia regrets nothing.

Barthor is in heavy denial, Din wrinkles his nose and Corin is incredibly oblivious as Paz and Raga keep inching their way closer to what they both dream about having. They push things as far as they can go and then some, before one of them finally dares to cross the line...

Sitting next to each other on the stairs behind the big battle arena, Paz and Raga had decided to sneak outside the building instead of staying with the others to watch the final game. Usually they both live and breathe for such big fights, but for some reason it seemed more tempting to sneak off like this.

They sit in this dark back-alley, her shoulder bumping lightly against his upper arm, talking.

It’s silly. They see each other every day, they talk every day, and yet they struggle to look at the other right now. Words tumble a little awkwardly. Hearts thump hard.

Then there is a huge cheer from the crowd inside the arena and Paz looks over at Raga. She looks back over at him, and after a moment of hesitation, he cautiously leans towards her.

Raga’s eyes light up. Oh. But just as she lifts her chin a little to meet him, giving him an unspoken invite, Paz abruptly loses his courage and quickly withdraws to stare down at the ground again.

Raga exhales, disappointed. Suddenly her eyes flare with angry annoyance and she thumps her shoulder against his arm, and when he looks at her, she quickly leans over and presses a brief, hard kiss to his lips. After that, she’s the one to turn to stare at the ground while heat burns in her face.

Stunned, Paz stares at her. He stares for what feels like a small eternity, then he slowly reaches out his hand, touches by her jawline and eases her into facing him again. And that is when he finally has the courage to lean over, his fingers still resting on her skin, and ever so softly touches his lips to hers.

It’s a gentle, trying thing. Raga draws a shivering breath, her lips trembling a little as well but soon they move to meet his as he cautiously coaxes a response from her.

After a little while, Paz pulls back and scans her face for her response.

Raga grins.

That makes him smile as well.

Dulsissia is obnoxiously pleased. Declaring herself the matchmaking champion.

Davarax only regrets not stopping her when stolen kisses in secret between the two becomes public make-out sessions. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded if had taken yeeeaars before he had to see that.

But he draws the line of having to watch it in their house. Entering the living room and finding them at it again, Davarax kicks at the sofa, making them jump apart. “Tongues in separate mouths when I’m around. Not negotiable.”

Paz flushes deep red. Raga glares.

And Dulsissia wonders who she can match up next...

While Dulsissia’s stop on Seswenna had resulted in them having a nice amount of credits to use on their family, Davarax knows they won’t last forever and he’s too used to support his family to stop, so he takes on the occasional job. And it’s easier now than before Dulsissia came into his life.

It’s strange not be be constantly exhausted. It’s even stranger not to have nightmares any more but wake up in the mornings with a sigh of satisfaction or even a smile on his face.

His favourite jobs are the ones where Dulsissia joins him. She’s come far from the helpless beauty he’d met what feels like a lifetime ago. Now she’s a deadly beauty. And the sight of her in Mandalorian armor is the best bonus he’s ever gotten on a job.

This is an easy contract. Just head up to a damaged cargo ship floating just above the planet, pick up the shipment and bring it to the owner on the surface. It’s the rumours of pirates in the area that makes them want to hire a couple of Mandalorians.

The ship is where it’s supposed to be, there are no signs of pirates, and Davarax does the mistake of thinking this mission will go without a hitch. He and Dulsissia board the ship and walk towards the cargo hold to secure their target.

It is years of experience combined with quick reflexes that saves Davarax’ life when something drops from the ceiling in the hallway. He jolts backwards and sparks fly as something sharp slides across his breastplate. Davarax tries to lift his blaster to fire at his attacker, but a boot kicks his arm and the shot goes wide.

It becomes a wild dance of attacks launched at him, sparks flying again and again when his armor takes the brunt, and he frantically back-pedals to stay alive. A streak of yellow spins in front of him and Davarax gets his arm up just in time for the vibro blade to impale it instead of his throat. The pain rages through him and instinct makes Davarax turn to the best weapon he has in such a close encounter; a harsh kov’nyn.

His opponent collapses while he stumbles backwards and clutches his arm. The blade is still vibrating and sending waves of agony through him while tearing more of his flesh. He yanks it out, fighting back the intense urge to scream with pain, unable to respond right away despite hearing Dulsissia calling out his name in fear.

Once his eyes clears again, Davarax realizes Dulsissia is by his side and trying to make him let her look at his arm and he sees the crumpled shape on the floor.

A skinny Twi’lek youth around Raga’s age. Her skin under layers of dirt looks to be pale yellow, her clothes are rags and even unconscious she looks angry.

Well, that was unexpected.

“She’s just a kid.” Dulsissia whispers with quiet disbelief, wrapping his arm.

“I was too busy trying to keep her from cutting my throat to notice.” Davarax rumbles, twitching slightly when Dulsissia tightens the bandage. His heart softens. “I wonder what her story is...”

Her name is Zev’sonya and she’s anything but friendly. Sure, his own kids have a habit of baring their teeth every once in a while, even at him, but this one? She’s outright hostile and extremely dangerous. And while his kids’ trust in others has been severely damaged, hers is non-existent. Whatever her story might be, she’s not telling them anything beyond her being on her own.

Davarax has absolutely no idea how Dulsissia manages to persuade the girl to come with them.

It takes over a standard week to make her stop trying to kill and rob them. A lot longer for her to actually trust them, especially Davarax.

Zev’sonya and Raga end up in a fist-fight two minutes after the initial introduction. Paz watches her with some cautiousness but he’s not unfriendly. Barthor avoids her like the plague. Corin is terrified of her and claims she keeps stealing the blades in the house. (Dulsissia knows he’s right as she keeps retrieving them from the twi’lek’s room.)

The only one she instantly connects with is Din, who seems to share her way of communicating in as few words as possible and have no fear of her scowls.

They renew their rent on the house and Davarax recruits Din to help build a couple of sheds and do some repairs on it.

After a scorchingly hot day, emerging from the refresher room, Dulsissia saunters over to the big bed in their room where Davarax is reading something on his datapad. She crawls into the bed and rolls over to face him with a dramatic sigh. “Dav? Cyare?”

“Mmh?” He replies, not looking up from his datapad.

“I’m hungry…”

Davarax lowers the datapad and reaches out to run his hand gently over her hair. “What are you in the mood for?”

“There’s leftovers from dinner...”

She rarely asks him to bring her things because she knows he will stop whatever he’s doing and get it and she doesn’t want to abuse that kindness. But this is a special occasion. After he’s padded out of the room, she slides the medical scanner out of her pocket and places it on his side of the bed.

A few minutes later, Davarax comes back with two plates. “Food for my love. And I brought some sweets for dessert too. Might as well make it a proper meal when we’re dining in bed.” He hands her one of the plates with flourish.

She leans up and gives him a kiss, which he is very pleased to accept, and waits as he circles the bed to get in on his side.

Davarax frowns a little when he sees something in his way, reaches down and picks it up so he can settle in his spot again. “This yours?” He holds it out to her.

Sighing, Dulsissia fails to hold back a smile. “Look at it.”

He studies the device but the numbers on the screen doesn’t make sense to him. Davarax glances over at her again, now a little worried. “A medical scanner? You’re not sick, are you?”

She shakes her head, losing the battle against a bubbling laugh. “No. Look at it, silly.”

Davarax looks again. “I’m looking, but what am I supposed to…” Finally the information on the screen makes sense to him and what it means. His gaze snaps back at her. The plate in his other hand is completely forgotten. “Y-you’re…? Are you…?”

Taking a bite of her food, Dulsissia nods and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “I’m pregnant.” It’s almost funny how happy she is with this fact. After Corin was born, the mere thought of having another baby offended Dulsissia after she had come to realize that was the only reason why Macero wanted her. But that was in the past. Things are so very different now.

Davarax nearly drops his plate, only his quick reflexes prevents him from spilling it all over the bed. He cautiously, but as quickly as possible, places his plate on the night-stand so he can hold on to the medical scanner with both hands, reading the information once again. “You… You’re sure?”

“You’re looking at the evidence, mister. I scanned ten minutes ago.” She takes another bite, endlessly amused by the whirlwind of emotions visibly rushing through him. He keeps wobbling back and forth between intense happiness, paralysing fear and blind excitement. It is so painfully sweet to see how much he wants this. “Breathe, baby.” Dulsissia advices.

Davarax gulps down some air, then puts the scanner aside and turns all of his focus on her. “Are… are you okay? Do you need me to do anything? What do I do?”

Laughing a little, even more charmed by him being so uncharacteristically clumsy and helpless, Dulsissia glances over at him. “I thought Mandalorians were experts on children. They didn’t teach you about how this is going to work?”

Davarax hesitates and then he reaches out and touches her hand. “Sort of, but all I care about is what you need me to do. Weapons and flowers, remember?”

Dulsissia feels the usual wave of warmth and adoration when Davarax is his sweet self and she curls her fingers around his. “I remember. And we’ll work this out as well.”

That seems to reassure him and his shoulders relaxes a little. Enough so that she lets go of his hand and goes back to eating. Maybe it is just knowing she’s pregnant again that makes her so hungry, but at least it is a very valid excuse to indulge.

Davarax is silent. Too silent.

After a while, Dulsissia has to laugh again as she realizes what he’s doing. He’s staring at her stomach. “There is nothing noticeable going on there quite yet. It’s too early. You’re going to have to be patient for a while before things get exciting for you.”

Davarax gives a tiny shake of his head. “This is already one of the most exciting things I’ve ever been a part of.” He looks like he’s about to say something more but loses courage.

“What?” Dulsissia asks, taking another bite of her food.

“Can I…?” He lifts his hand a little in a mute request.

Stars above, she loves this man more than she thought was possible. Dulsissia lets out a soft laugh. “There’s nothing much to feel right now, like I said, but… if you want to, go ahead.”

Davarax inches closer, reaches out further and cautiously places his hand on her stomach, below her bellybutton. His hand is warm and so very careful and lingers there for a while. “Hey, you…” Davarax eventually says in a quiet voice, a little strained with emotion. “Welcome to the family.”

Dulsissia doesn’t make a sound as the first tears trail from her eyes, overwhelmed by how right this feels, how much she loves him and their unborn child and their beautiful family. This time, she knows, this time everything will be perfect.

When Dulsissia tells him, Corin is incredibly excited to become a big brother. Paz declares he’s mighty pleased their clan is growing, sounding like the adult he now looks like despite still not having enough years on his back to deserve that title in Dulsissia’s eyes, and the other Mandalorian youngsters eagerly agree with him. Davarax looks a little awkward when they start talking about how they can create a Covert of their own at the pace their clan is growing.

Half an eternity later, when the evening comes where she feels the first barely noticeable change, Dulsissia calls Davarax over and slides his hand over her stomach. She feels him shiver and he looks at her with breathless awe. She has to laugh and then kisses that look off his face.

A little over six standard weeks after that, Davarax feels the first curving before she notices herself, on a sleepy morning when he, as usual, runs his hand over her stomach.

Corin and the other boys hover near her with innocent curiosity and watch the development with bright fascination, while Raga and Zev’sonya stay a little more in the back and observe with cautious interest.

When Dulsissia really starts showing, that is the point where Davarax’ self-control starts slipping. He has tried his hardest to act normal, yet now he becomes downright clingy. Others might have gotten a bit annoyed with the man’s behaviour, but Dulsissia knows the sadness of going through this with someone who doesn’t care, who can’t even bother to be there, so she happily suffers through his tactile presence.

Dulsissia even has to hide tears one evening when he inches close, runs his hand over her stomach yet again and softly hums a Mandalorian lullaby to their restless child.

Then she gets even bigger and Dulsissia realizes she’d forgotten this part. She gets grouchy, her feet aches, her back aches, everything aches, she has to pee all the time, she can barely get up if she does the mistake of sitting down, she can’t sleep like she wants to, and Dulsissia decides the thought of delivering the child isn’t all that bad if she can just get back to normal, please!

It is all worth it when the time comes after seven hours of hard work and sweet, sweet pain killers, and Dulsissia gets to meet her daughter as she’s placed in her arms.

She is absolutely beautiful and perfect in every way and so very, very loved!

Looking up at Davarax by her side, Dulsissia is both crying and laughing at once. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Davarax, pale as a sheet, nods with a look of awe on his face.

Allowing herself another moment of holding their child, admiring her, kissing her, Dulsissia makes herself look up at Davarax again. “You want to hold her?”

To her surprise, he hesitates and looks like he’s about to take a step away. Catching himself, Davarax remains where he is and tries to remember how to speak. “I… Are you sure?”

Laughing a little, Dulsissia is far too exhausted to untangle the mystery of his mind at the moment. “Of course I’m sure. She’s your daughter too.”

“It’s just…” Davarax reaches out a cautious hand only to withdraw it before he can actually touch the wailing baby. “I don’t know how. I mean, I don’t want to hurt her. I-I’ve never held a baby before. She’s so tiny, Dulcy.”

“She’s tougher than you think.” Dulsissia replies, then turns a little to make it easier for him to pick up the baby. “Support her head, careful with the neck, like that, yeah… Perfect.” She leans back, exhausted and strangely enough a bit hungry, but for the time being she is satisfied to just take in the sight of her husband and their child connecting.

“Hello, ik’aad.” Davarax looks nervous, awkward and absolutely devastated by the intense adoration he feels for the still screaming bundle in his arms. The baby really do look tiny in his embrace, fragile even, but that doesn’t prevent her from aimlessly raising her tiny fist in what looks to be a threat.

Mandokarla from the birth.

Dulsissia sees how tears well up in Davarax’ eyes and he leans down to place a feather-light kiss on the baby’s head.

Corin is staring wide-eyed at the baby and eagerly reaches out when his mother eases her over into his arms.

“Say hello to your new sister.” Dulsissia says in a quiet voice, hoping not to wake the sleeping baby.

Din hovers over Corin’s right shoulder and reaches out to ever so gently run his fingers over the dark tufts of hair on her head. “She’s cute.”

“So tiny…” Paz observes, hovering over Corin’s left shoulder, sounding a bit worried.

“She’ll get bigger, idiot.” Barthor mutters, tilting his helmet as he studies the baby too.

“Are… are you okay?” Raga asks Dulsissia while the boys block the view to the new arrival.

Smiling, reaching out a hand and curling her fingers around Raga’s when she takes it, Dulsissia gives her a reassuring nod. “I’m fine, baby. Corin gave me a lot more trouble than this one.”

Corin blinks and looks up to focus on her for a moment. “I did?”

Dulsissia nods. “Yeah, you were not inclined to come out to greet the world. It took over two days to persuade you.”

“Two days?” Raga blurts out, with no small amount of horror.

“It sounds worse than it was.” Dulsissia reassures her. “Without the pain meds I’m sure it would have been a nightmare, but with them, it’s mostly just uncomfortable and boring.”

“Two days and you still decided to have another child?” Davarax asks from where he is hovering in the background.

“Well, yeah.” Dulsissia shrugs. The amount of joy her son has given her was well worth it. And without him she would never have broken free from her golden cage, so, no, she had not hesitated to do it all over again. Her daughter is already worth it too. “Zev. Baby. Come say hello. Don’t just hide over there.” She waves the Twi’lek over and fails to see everyone there stare at her with the kind of awe saved for the most impressive of Mandalorian warriors.

They call the baby Nemi.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #What If #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Teenage Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU

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bamfdaddio · 3 years

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X-Men Abridged: 1981 - Bonus: Avengers Annual 10/What If? 27

The X-Men, those Claremontian mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men! [more here]

(Avengers Annual 10 & What If? 27) - by Chris Claremont and Mary Jo Duffy, Michael Golden and Jerry Bingham

Avengers? You’re not here for Avengers! Let me make the following counterpoint:

Holy eye shadow, Rogue!

See, Avengers Annual 10 is less about the Avengers and more about three other things:

The rehabilitation of Carol Danvers who, after this, has had her fill of the Avengers and becomes an honorary member of the X-Men;

Spider-Woman and the X-Men trying to figure out what has happened to Ms. Marvel;

Mystique trying to spring her Brotherhood from prison, using a secret weapon: Rogue.

Depending on my mood that day, I might name Rogue as my favourite-ever X-Man, so I really could not skip her debut issue. Instantly iconic, all of this:

Her streak;

Her signature green outfit with hoodie;

Her accent.

Queen.

I love how Claremont once again almost effortlessly introduces a strong female character, one that single-handedly takes down three of the strongest Avengers. Also note how free Rogue still is with her powers: fun, flirty, without the tragic can’t-touch-anyone-angle that will define her for the next three decades.

I’m sorry, am I getting ahead of myself?

This story begins as a whodunit: who pushed an amnesiac Carol Danvers off the Golden Gate Bridge and stole her mind? For that matter, where did she came from? Wasn’t she happily married and pregnant in some alternative dimension last time the readers saw her? Spider-Woman rescues her from the choppy water and calls Professor Xavier to help out. He manages to retrieve the Jane Doe’s identity and knows who attacked her: a woman named Rogue.

Rogue, meanwhile, skulks about the Avengers Mansion, first taking out Captain America and then attacking Thor.

Considering what this comic is about, I don’t believe Hawkeye’s throwaway mysognism is accidental here.

Rogue’s powers work as follows: through touch, she can steal other people’s powers and memories. The longer she touches someone, the longer she’ll have them - with the looming threat of the theft becoming permanent.

After absorbing Thor, Rogue is faced with three Avengers who’s powers she can’t absorb - Spider-Woman (covered in a suit); Vision (robot) and Wonder Man (being of pure energy? Idk, I’m not really familiar with him other than his bromance with Beast). Hoping the three powers she has in her arsenal - Ms. Marvel’s, Thor’s and Cap’s - will be enough, Rogue flees.

Mystique, meanwhile, has duped Iron Man by pretending to be the Wasp and has paralysed Tony Stark in his suit with some sort of device. She picks up the powered-up Rogue and their plan becomes clear:

Rogue immediately earns her place in my heart by using billionaire Tony Stark the way the Coyote uses anvils. (Also note the odd way of spelling ‘sugah’.)

I love how both the Brotherhood and the X-Men continually pull focus from the Avengers: for an Avengers-comic, it's surprising how much they're pushed to the background. Again, this makes sense if you know what this issue really is about, but that won’t become clear until the epilogue. I don’t mind, it means we get a ton of great moments, like the Blob calling Mystique ‘Misty’:

My God, this era’s Destiny/Mystique is even more obvious than 90’s Rictor/Shatterstar.

A battle erupts. One funny moment is actually seeing Destiny fight. I’ve never really read comics about this incarnation of the Brotherhood and my collection mostly takes off after Legion Quest, so I mostly know Destiny posthumously. I always figured that, as a villain, she stood somewhere off on the side, delivering cryptic messages. I never realized she was the one to almost shoot Senator Kelly, nor that her powers are this practical.

X-Men drinking game rule 11: Drink anytime someone fatshames the Blob.

The fight is pretty evenly matched until Spider-Woman releases Iron Man from Mystique’s little trap. Soon, the Avengers overwhelm the Brotherhood. While Mystique and Rogue manage to flee, Destiny, Avalanche, Pyro and the Blob are detained again.

With the main antagonists sorted, we return to the actual storyline: the rehabilitation of Ms. Marvel. Professor X has managed to tease her out of her catatonic state and offers her therapy to restore her missing memories and powers. (The ones stolen by Rogue.) The Avengers, not fully understanding why Carol won’t ask them for help, eventually come by for a house call.

Carol asks the X-Men to leave while the Avengers gingerly confront her. It’s very awkward.

“Fuck the Avengers. Taking my beer.” - Wolverine, probably.

See, what all this refers to is the rape of Ms. Marvel. I haven’t read the particular comic in which this happens (Avengers 200), so if you want all the details, I’ll refer you to this article. Before I get into the details, it’s important to note that Claremont was the writer for Carol Danvers in her solo-series, giving her agency and turning Ms. Marvel into a three-dimensional character. The title was then cancelled and Carol was shuffled off to the Avengers. (Rogue was, in fact, planned to make her debut in that the solo-Ms. Marvel series, as one of Ms. Marvel’s new antagonists. Presumably, Rogue would steal her powers there, too. We all know Claremont loves to strip his heroes and heroines of their powers to show they’re even more badass without them.)

As an Avenger, Carol was wooed by some other-dimensional dude/entity named Marcus. He courted her by giving her flowers, worshipping the ground she stepped on and, oh yeah, ‘subtly’ influencing her mind to make her fall in love with him and consequently impregnating her.

Yes.

Now, Claremont is no stranger to putting his characters through their paces and he gleefully makes use of the whole mental manipulation-trope. In fact, telepathically coercing someone to fall in love with you is absolutely what Mastermind did to Jean Grey: he probably violated her just as much as Marcus did Carol. The difference is how it’s treated in the narrative: Mastermind’s actions are never laughed away or apologized for and are the direct cause for his downfall. They help trigger Jean’s transformation to the Dark Phoenix, whose first deed is taking out her fury on ‘Jason Wyngarde’.

That’s… not what happened with Ms. Marvel. There, the narrative condones Marcus’ actions by framing it as ‘her happy ending’ (married and pregnant, yay!), something which is celebrated by the Avengers.

This is where Carol calls them out for their bullshit.

We call this ‘The Reason You Suck’-Speech. It’s a thing of beauty.

The Avengers depart, tail between their legs, and Carol hangs out with the cool X-kids from now on. For now, at least.

So, this issue is not only a landmark because it’s where Rogue debuts, but you can also see Chris Claremont going to bat for one of characters: he (presumably reluctantly) gave back the character of Carol Danvers when her solo was cancelled, proceeded to see how terribly they massacred his girl and then claimed that ownership right back.

Good for you, Claremont.

***

The “What If… the Phoenix Had Not Died”-issue is kind of boring, because it’s basically a rehash of the Phoenix Saga. Why am I paying attention to it? Because of the (mild) gore (and because the Avengers Annual wouldn’t fill a whole post). Anyway, it’s like watching a Final Destination-movie: it’s silly, light on plot and never a particularly thought-provoking movie, but it’s still fun to see all those people inventively but haplessly die.

Plot! Instead of committing suicide on the moon, the Shi’ar strip Jean of her powers after her trial. Jean is trapped in a barren mental state, almost feeling like she's a veggie. But Jean's powers refuse to remain dormant: slowly, her telepathy returns.

When Galactus threatens the Shi’ar homestead, Lilandra summons the X-Men as her champions. Jean embraces her Phoenix-side and defeats Galactus. Everyone is grateful and super-convinced Jean can handle the Phoenix this time! Yay!

And, because that battle with Galactus took a lot out of her, Jean decides she can have a little asteroid. As a treat. She keeps slipping up on her diet, supping on the occasional meteor and lonely planet to keep her power levels up. It turns out to be a slippery slope: finally, she consumes another star (in an uninhabited system! And a small one! How dare you judge her!), but when she returns to the mansion…

The absolute worst moment to forget you have powers, Kitty.

Xavier attempts to bind the Phoenix, but last time, Jean helped him fight from within. This time, there's not much Jean left. Without breaking a sweat, the Phoenix wipes his brain. But she doesn’t stop there. Maybe the Phoenix remembers that, last time, she was undone by the principles of “friendship is magic”. This time, she’s determined to not let it get so far.

It’s absolutely bone-chilling.

And the stars blinked As they watched her carefully Jealous of the way she shone - Atticus

I wonder if there’s a rhyme or reason to the way Jean murders her friends: is it random? Does she go for the ones she loves the most first? Does she save Cyclops for last, knowing killing him might trigger Jean to respond?

The narration mentions that the three remaining X-Men are the most powerful ones: Polaris, Havok and Cyclops. (I would’ve swapped in Storm for Cyclops, but whatever.) They have formulated a quick plan: Polaris pulls focus while Havok and Cyclops shift into position. Phoenix disintegrates Polaris while Havok and Scott try and blast Phoenix to smithereens.

But at the last moment, Scott can’t. Havok’s blast alone is not enough. Phoenix shoots him through the heart and then, finally, kills Cyclops. That’s when Jean resurfaces, realizing what she’s done. She can’t take it - she’s in the mood to dissolve in the sky, as per Virginia Woolf - and she lets the Phoenix take over.

Phoenix finally lives up to her potential: The End of All That Is.

It's a mediocre plot with a lame ramp-up to a terrifying conclusion. In the regular universe, the thing that triggers the Phoenix is the utter violation of Jean’s body and mind; here, it’s being confronted by Kitty. One is the proverbial red cloth in front of the bull, the other is being assaulted by an ineffective wet cloth. The Phoenix Saga is iconic because all the pieces were carefully put in place; this just feels rushed an unearned.

Also, the Watcher is full of shit. You can’t say you don’t pass judgment whilst simultaneously comparing the merits of one tragedy to the other. Shut up, Uatu.

Check back next week for your regularly scheduled X-Men Abridged! It’s time for 1982 and the brood saga!

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nikkoliferous · 4 years

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Phase One: Thor

Since I was looking up my past live-blog of the novel and realising how annoying and repetitive reading through it all is because of my having structured it as a bunch of reblogs, I’ve decided to organize it all into one long-ass post instead. In case anyone else wants to read it in the future. Or in case I decide to re-read it. Because I’m hilarious. 😅

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO

My Hilarious Yet Wrathful Overview Of Phase One: Thor, Redux

—

If your son who’s to become king requires a babysitter to not screw it all up and also the idea of him being king is stressful enough to put you into a coma, maybe, uh… reconsider doing that? Just a thought.

But you see here why Odin was so deadset on Thor becoming king, despite him being ill-suited for the role. It’s not about what’s best for Asgard; it’s about personal legacy. Thor is Odin’s mini me, and Loki is very much not. There are places within the text where Odin laments Thor “lacking his father’s wisdom” (he’s definitely inherited your humility, though, Odin!), but he hopes for Thor to grow into a “wise king” like himself. Whereas he holds no such illusions (lol, pun) that Loki will ever take after him.

now with tag commentary! #this scene is in the script and both novelizations #(though in reading this novel seems to just be a more complete version of the junior novel? #idk i'm confused because they're supposedly written by different authors but so far the text is identical) #and it drives me insane each time i read it

“Haha, I’m a warmongering piece of shit, isn’t it funny?”

I know, I know. I try to cut Asgard some slack for being such a militaristic culture because social changes happen slowly and when you live for thousands of years per generation, it makes sense that your views on things like war would be regressive. The text says Odin has ruled Asgard for tens of thousands of years (so much for taking Loki’s “give or take 5,000 years” line literally; sure, the Odinsleep would have extended Odin’s lifespan, but by that much? Idk).

Still, fuck Odin. Especially since he’ll eventually try to shame Loki for doing the same thing he’s fucking boasting about here. And on a much smaller scale too.

…is it, though?

I actually think Loki’s relationship with being the centre of attention is really interesting in its complexity and we don’t discuss it enough. I’ve said this before, but he strikes me as the sort of person who craves attention but also wouldn’t really know what to do with it if he had it. He craves it as a result of neglect, because he’s never been shown recognition or validation. This is why he seems to revel in it in Stuttgart, even in (or maybe especially in?) his brainwashed state. But he also frequently comes across as pretty introverted and has horrible self-esteem, so I think on another level, sustained, genuine attention would make him feel kind of uncomfortable. Loki seems to believe that in order to be loved or respected, he has to literally be Thor, though. And Thor has always been the centre of attention, so for Loki, attention is synonymous with respect.

I find Loki’s relationship with wanting attention especially fascinating because I too both crave and fear it. As a borderline, I need it. When no one is paying attention to me, I lose my sense of identity. I feel as though I literally cease to exist. It’s excruciatingly painful. And yet, I have no authentic sense of self; I’m just a chameleon, and the closer people get to me, the more likely it is they’ll see behind my mask. They’ll realise it’s all a show and that I’m actually no one. And then they’ll leave. I can’t help wondering if that’s how Loki feels sometimes too.

Wait, what? You mean goat. His horns are shaped like a goat’s. This is a ram:

This is a goat:

This is Loki:

Do you see now? They’re like a goat. Not a ram. Not a cow. A GOAT.

This book was written before Ragnarok was a thing, so it may be unfair to connect the two, but it still seems worth noting that it was Thor who reduced Loki to being no more than a trickster to begin with. “You could be more,” my ass. Loki’s problem has never been that he was one-dimensional; it was always that the people in his life, including Thor, refused to see any other dimensions to him. Which makes those words particularly cruel—as if they aren’t cruel enough already, what with the physical torture and all.

Always happy to have cause to point out that

Loki was on Thor clean-up duty their whole lives; he certainly was not trying to kill Thor.

People like to point to Loki’s attempted genocide of the Jötnar and attempted(-ish? lol) conquest of Earth as proof that he’s some kind of violent maniac. But in a little place I like to call reality, Loki was historically far less aggressive and bloodthirsty than his peers.

Question: why is one conqueror evil and the other is righteously entitled to ruling over the Nine Realms?

Asgardian exceptionalism FTW

I can’t even begin to imagine what would lead you to expect such a thing, Odin. 😂

Uh, ‘cause it is?? And also their planet is MELTING without it??

This is all only within the first two chapters, btw. Lmao

—

“Looking for answers,” my foot.

YOU WOULD THINK SO, WOULDN’T YOU??

#i mean unless you knew heimdall #he only commits treason on days that end in y

—

What’d I say? Thor clean-up dutyyyyy

Just wanna remind everyone that this

is why he’s smiling during this scene

because it makes me laugh every time. 😂

—

My heart breaks every time I remember that second excerpt because literally ALL OF IT happened to him when he survived falling through the wormhole. My poor boy. 😭

But also of note… Loki gets cold (and also does not like being cold). This interests me because 1) as many are aware, the prevalent headcanon that Loki has a low body temperature irritates me and 2) it possibly(?) lends weight to the theory that he may not be fully Jötun, whether by virtue of his birth or Odin’s spell.

Haha, look at this Feminist Icon™ trying to take credit for his female friend’s accomplishments! Truly inspiring.

#for some reason the ragnarok lovers have somehow decided that thor is both a feminist and lesbian icon #whatever that means 🤷‍♀️ #and i'm still trying very hard to figure out why #is it literally just because he *says* he respects women or whatever in that dumb rambly conversation with valkyrie?

Ooh… you were so close to getting the point, Volstagg. So close. Take your tongue off Odin’s boot for just a couple minutes longer.

Also, the author just forgot the name of the Casket. How did this book get published? 😂

JUST LOOKING FOR ANSWERS, HUH?

Because fuck Loki, amirite? He, uh… he’s a prince too, you know.

Also… Fandral, you dweeb 😂

…am I reading too much into this, or did Odin just literally forget that Loki exists?

On the other hand, the author also seemed to forget Loki existed for most of this chapter, so who knows. 🤷‍♀️

lmao @ Jane immediately trying to convince herself she’s too rational to be attracted to a stranger

Honestly, though, big mood.

Just your periodic reminder that Thor’s sycophantic friends KNEW Loki was right and decided to throw him under the bus anyway.

Just as I’ve always said: That was it. That was their ENTIRE rationale. That Loki *could* have done it, therefore he must have. Please tell me these people have nothing to do with Asgard’s justice system.

…lol, jk, Asgard has no justice system.

Ok, first of all, no.

Second: thank you, Fandral. You’re a self-absorbed cad, but also evidently Thor’s least stupid friend.

Thirdly, how…? First, it was, “Loki arranged all this because he’s jealous of Thor.” Now they’ve suddenly jumped all the way to, “All of Asgard is in danger.” What exactly does Sif think Loki is planning? He’s gonna, what… assassinate Odin and then sell Asgard to the Jötnar?

—

Please stop hurting me.

Just so there’s no confusion: this one sentence explains everything Loki did for the rest of the movie. It explains how a person who has been historically non-aggressive suddenly transforms into a warmonger. To prove himself a real Asgardian, like his brother and father and grandfather.

—

…why did Odin fall into the Odinsleep in two completely different scenes in this book? I’m super confused.

Also, we really need to talk about how cruel it is of Marvel to keep forcing Loki to prove his loyalty again and again and again when he’s been doing so almost literally since we met him. And by “we need to talk about it”, I mean I need to tie Kevin Feige and co. to a chair and spend a minimum of five hours lecturing them on how poorly they understand their own fucking character.

Let’s just be clear here: they’re talking about Loki. They’re saying Loki, their LEGITIMATE king, is an enemy of Asgard, based on evidence so paper-thin it’s practically invisible. Just… please, let that sink in. Take a moment to appreciate how utterly fucked up that is.

I’m sorry (not really), but Thor was so much funnier before Ragnarok.

This scene has always kind of bugged me. If Odin removed Thor’s powers, how come he can still control the weather? Confusing.

So what exactly was Thor’s plan anyway, before he realised he couldn’t lift Mjölnir? He was just gonna call on Heimdall to help him commit treason AGAIN, show up on Asgard against the expressed command of his king, and… Odin would just shrug and be like, “You got me, son! I guess I can’t keep you down. Welcome home!”?

…I mean, I guess that more or less is what happened in the end, but it’s hard to imagine it would have still gone down that way without all the stuff that happened with Loki. Idk.

#look what i'm saying is... thor is not exactly a thinking person #no one on asgard is a thinking person #except loki but he's crazy now so he's also thinking somewhat poorly lol

Cool, Thor. Now imagine feeling that way for ONE THOUSAND YEARS and develop a little fucking empathy for your brother.

But you won’t.

You’ll brush off his feelings of worthlessness as “imagined slights”. 😒

Nice that somebody knows how the royal line of succession works, I guess…

That sound you hear? Yeah, that’s just my heart breaking. NBD.

First, they mislabelled it the Casket of Eternal Winters. Now it’s the Cask of Ancient Winters. Author must have been thirsty when they wrote this. Lol

Look, not to nitpick, but this is not the recommended procedure when you see a storm that you don’t believe is of supernatural origin coming. I’m just saying. Lol

Uh… ‘cause he is?? And your pals are committing treason AGAIN, Thor, so it technically is responding to a threat to Asgard. Just FYI.

Anyways, this is an important point that doesn’t get made often enough. People want to act like Loki illegally usurped the throne somehow, but even without the deleted scene that explicitly shows Frigga passing rulership to him (a scene which is, for some reason, entirely skipped over in this book, but whatever), understand this: Loki could not have controlled the Destroyer unless he was legitimately King of Asgard. The fact that he’s able to do so is irrefutable proof that his rulership is valid.

lmao you little shit

So… here’s my issue with this scene (and with Thor as a character): He always assumes that Loki’s acting out specifically to hurt him. That Loki’s entire life and thought process revolves around Thor. He does it in this scene, he does it in The Avengers… it’s just a chronic thing with Thor. Everything is viewed through the lens of Loki inexplicably hating him.

But that’s… just not accurate. Yes, Loki harbours a lot of jealousy towards Thor. But that’s not what’s happening in this scene. Loki is not trying to kill Thor here because he wants him dead; he’s doing it because Thor (and his friends) are getting in the way of Loki completing his ultimate goal. Loki tried to solve this problem non-violently, by lying about Odin being dead. It’s Thor’s friends who all but forced his hand by going behind his back and trying to bring Thor back to Asgard against Loki’s (and Odin’s!) direct orders.

For all the humility he’s learned in the past few days, this entire speech is still really all about Thor. About assuming that Loki’s doing this for personal reasons, because he holds a grudge against Thor for some unknown reason. This is implicit in his request to “take [my life] and end this.” It never even occurs to him that his friends are traitors to the Crown and Loki, as King of Asgard, is perhaps justified in pursuing them.

It also needs to be acknowledged that Thor’s apology here is hollow, even if it’s ultimately coming from his heart, because he has no idea what he’s apologising for. “Whatever I have done to wrong you” is not an apology. An apology addresses specific hurtful actions taken and commits to not repeating those mistakes in the future. Thor cannot commit to not repeating the hurtful things he’s done, because he doesn’t know what he’s done. Despite his best intentions, what Thor is doing here is actually kind of manipulative. He’s not addressing any substantive issue between the two of them; he’s just trying to talk Loki down. And it ultimately fails not because Loki doesn’t care or because he wants Thor dead, but because it doesn’t actually change anything.

Finally and only semi-relatedly, we should maybe at some point talk about the fact that Loki, who is stated to be a master tactician, has displayed a weird pattern of hardly ever being as lethal as he could be. He freezes Heimdall in place instead of killing him outright; he backhands Thor with the Destroyer instead of incinerating him; he, well… *gestures vaguely at almost the entirety of the first Avengers movie* Anytime the violence is even a little bit personal, he seems to hedge. Odd behaviour for somebody who’s supposedly super evil.

I’m sorry, I know I’ve pointed it out at least a hundred times before, but I just can’t encounter this scene in any form without taking a moment to appreciate how underrated and hilarious it is.

I also genuinely wonder how many Ragnarok stans who have accused me of having no sense of humour, have failed to laugh at moments like this one. Kinda feel like if you need to have the comedy spoonfed to you in the form of ass jokes, maybe you’re the one whose sense of humour is lacking. 🤷‍♀️

Let’s be super clear: this is not what happened. Loki did not betray Odin; he was betrayed by Odin. He did not open Asgard to its enemies; he attempted, misguidedly, to destroy Asgard’s enemies. And he most certainly did not commit suicide out of a sense of guilt.

I’m not saying Loki did nothing wrong, nor am I saying he feels no regret for the lives he has taken. What I’m saying is there’s no indication that he believes he betrayed Odin or Asgard in the process. Which makes perfect sense, because he didn’t. Everything he tried to do was for Odin and Asgard. It was misguided and horrible, yes, but it can hardly be classified as a betrayal.

The insurmountable burden on Loki is not that he did terrible things, but that no matter what he does or how hard he tries, Odin will never look at him with anything but contempt. Consider once more these passages from the very beginning of the book, at Thor’s coronation:

—

Consider that this book goes to great pains to point out that Odin favours Thor because Thor is a warrior like him. And yet even when Loki embraces that, even when he acts more war-like than ever before, Odin rejects him— just as he always has.

There is a reason why this moment is the last time Loki will ever call Odin his father. Because he realises once and for all that, no, nothing he tries will ever be good enough; no, Odin won’t ever look at him with pride. That is Loki’s burden. That is why he lets go.

The epilogue is really just two pages of making me want to vomit.

There’s your party where Thor and a certain subset of the fandom insist that Loki was mourned. There’s barely an indication here that anyone even perceives his demise as a negative thing.

“[Sif] could see Frigga thought [Loki was dead] as well” also contradicts the tie-in comic for TDW, so I don’t know what the author is on about there. Unlike the majority of Marvel comics, the tie-in comics are canon to the MCU, so it’s a bizarre statement to make.

COULD YOU SMEAR THE DEAD* ABUSE VICTIM A LITTLE HARDER, PLEASE? Fucking hell.

No matter how many times I encounter this scene, in whatever format, I still fail to become desensitized to how disgusting it is. I realise there’s a good chance that whatever version of events Thor has been told was twisted at best; but how you can look at a man whose son has just committed suicide under any circumstances and say there will never be a better father than that guy, is utterly beyond my capacity to understand.

And Odin’s “you’ve already made me proud” line just feels like extra salt in the wound because, again, Loki let go because he realized Odin would never say those words to him. And yet they come so damn easily when it’s Thor.

Fuck this entire family so much. I think I hate them more than Loki does. Sometimes I wonder what he would think about that. How he would react to knowing that not only is he actually loved, but that he’s so loved that people are genuinely furious at the way he’s been mistreated. That there are people who regularly devolve into full-on rants because they just can’t contain how much anger they have towards the people who hurt him. I think he’d have a hard time wrapping his head around that concept, tbh.

Anyways, to end on a not-completely-depressing note, I’m still waiting for someone at Marvel to explain how Loki knew what Thor said in this scene after plummeting into a wormhole. ‘Cause he references this conversation as Fauxdin at the end of TDW. So like… ?? Did he steal Odin’s memories before he erased them? Because that would be… kind of neat, actually. And very clever. Not entirely ethical, of course, but it’s Odin, so fuck ethics.

WELP, THAT’S IT. Thanks for following along with my dumbassery, hope you enjoyed yourselves. Lol

#phase one: thor #loki meta #thor meta #odin's a+ parenting #frigga's b+ parenting #topic: thor and loki's broken relationship #loki #thor #heimdall #lady sif #the warriors 3 #jane foster #ragnarok cinematic universe #mcu #topic: asgardian hypocrisy #topic: asgardian militarism #topic: odin's family dynamic

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blue-bird-on-a-wire · 4 years

Text

Mav (Free)

Part 3 of the Gar Cuyir Yaim series

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,340

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x (Y/n) with she/her pronouns

Warnings: Jabba’s slave culture, mentioned kidnapping/child kidnapping, insecure (Y/n), hinted/implied abuse of (Y/n)

Summary: (Y/n) represses memories from her past after Paz explains how he knows her.

Updates: Every Tuesday at 5:30 pm MT

A/N: Hello! You can also find this fic on Ao3 under B1ue_Bird_0n_A_Wire. Please feel free to give me feedback, as I don’t have a beta reader and often miss spelling mistakes. If you feel there need to be more warnings/other warnings, feel free to DM me! I don’t bite 😊. Enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

“What?” I asked, not sure I heard Paz correctly.

You were a foundling.

I was not a foundling. Foundlings were the adoptive children of the Mandalorians, raised to be strong warriors. I was not strong nor a warrior, let alone raised by Paz’s kind. He must have been mistranslating.

Paz continued to stare at me like he was frozen in carbonite.

“That can’t be right. I’ve never met a Mandalorian before you,” I whispered.

He just kept looking at me, and it started to make my skin crawl. Was he mad at me? Was he considering taking me back? What did this all mean for him? I wasn’t a foundling and never had been. He needed to look again.

“...That’s why I recognized you,” Paz muttered, more to himself than to me. “You disappeared after the Shereshir be Ade.”

“...the...the what?”

Paz quickly stood up, taking a step toward me. “The Kidnapping of Children,” he said, as though that would explain everything. “I never thought I would see you again.”

I took a hesitant step back. He was mistaken. If he took a look at the holo again, he would see I wasn’t a foundling. I never was.

I couldn't bring myself to believe I could have been one of him. The Mandalorians were just stories to me until a few days ago.

“I-I... I don’t know who you are, Paz,” I said. “I-I’m sorry.”

Paz’s steps abruptly stopped. His shoulders tensed and I could hear his breath hitch through the modulator.

“I’ve belonged to Jabba for as long as I can remember,” I continued. “I don’t even know what planet I was born on, or who brought me to him.”

A pause. This silence from him was making me more and more nervous.

“...I’ve only heard of Mandalorians through stories from bounty hunters. You must be mistaking me for someone else, and I’m so sorry I mislead you-”

“We were playing in the covert. You wanted to play some hiding game, and I was looking for you… You couldn't stop laughing,” Paz’s shoulders deflated. “Then there was a loud boom - an explosion - and we were running through the tunnels. But you were so small. I didn’t-” Paz’s helmet tilted to the side, away from me. “I hadn't even noticed how far behind you were-”

“Y-you’re think- thinking of someone else. I-I wasn’t-” I could feel the tears building behind my eyes.

This was freaking me out. He said he knew me? Or at least he thought he knew me. I didn’t know anyone. I had grown up alone - raised by other slaves and taught two things. There are the rulers and the ruled. You are determined for either destiny and are good for nothing else.

This was turning my whole galaxy around.

“Our covert was attacked and in the aftermath, we couldn't find several of our children,” Paz explained, looking back at me and taking another step forward. “I couldn't find you.”

My breathing was shallow as I struggled to keep from crying. This couldn't have been happening. I wasn’t who he said I was. There wasn’t any other path I could have lived. My slavery was inevitable. I wasn’t once the very thing I had longed to be since I was younger. I hadn't… I couldn't of-

“(Y/n),” said Paz. “Ni ceta.”

“I-I don’t know wha- what that means,” I whimpered. “I-I’m just- just a slave. You-you’re thinking of- of the wrong per-person,” I choked out. “But I-I can’t eve-even read to show you it-it’s no-not true,” I gestured to my collar.

I wasn’t. I wasn’t. I wasn’t.

I didn’t know this man. He was wrong about me. He thought I was someone I wasn’t. Someone he mistook for a childhood friend.

Everything was crashing down around me because I do remember feeling cold. I remember feeling afraid, and lost, and alone. I could never picture any of it but I always remembered how it felt. It felt abandoned.

Being forced to leave wherever I came from, only to be thrown into the grubby hands of Jabba felt… like I had been ripped from whatever home had come before.

But I couldn't remember, and my experience must have been different from whoever this Mandalorian was talking about. No matter how similar it might have been.

Paz reached behind him for the collar with its holo still displaying. He thrust it toward me, pointing at things with his gloved fingers.

“Right here,” Paz explained, “It says you were gifted, not bought. You were proof of eradication of a Mandalorian covert. That’s why you were given to Jabba. You were the false proof of a job well done.”

I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks, or the whimpers that left my mouth. I couldn't remember these things. He wanted me to remember, and I couldn't do that.

“... I-I can’t read, Paz…”

I must have looked even more pathetic to him if he thought I was once a foundling. Balling my eyes out like I wasn’t in the presence of a Mandalorian.

My back finally hit the wall behind me, and I hadn't realized till that moment just how far I had moved away from him.

“I-I’m sorry that I-I’m not who- who you think I am…”

Paz remained silent.

“I’m sor-sorry you have the wrong per-person.”

He continued to stare at me. I could see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

He was going to hit me soon, I was sure of it.

But he never did.

Maybe I was supposed to play along. Maybe he wanted me to pretend to be this other person because I looked vaguely like them.

All of a sudden, Paz lurched forward and stormed up the ladder to the cockpit.

I held my breath at the sound of his boots, only taking in air once I heard the door to the cockpit close.

I was left alone, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.

Nothing but my thoughts to drown in.

~ ~ ~

The more I dwelled on it, the more I felt these vague images and feelings bubbling to the surface.

I remember bars.

And it was dark.

I remember being yelled at. Being told to quiet down and stop squirming.

But I don’t recall any faces. Just noise and feelings.

There had been a smell of something metallic.

I didn’t want to think about these things. I didn’t like to acknowledge these things. They implied that somewhere in my lifetime I had not been a slave. That I was taken or abducted from somewhere. I did not like to think that if something had changed - maybe I ate something else that morning or slept in a little later - then I might not have ever been a slave.

False memories. That’s what I decided to chalk these things up to, even though these things had existed in the back of my mind long before Paz entered Jabba’s Palace.

Yes, false memories was all that they were. I had simply made them up.

But I was not dreaming. My neck still throbbed with pain, even as the bacta gel absorbed into my skin. It had been a few hours, I assumed. Maybe the pain would go away in a few more.

I lifted my head from my arms, which rested on my folded-up knees.

Corners were nice. I liked corners. They made me feel secure and safe. All I had to worry about was what was in front of me, not behind.

Jabba’s Palace was sort of like a corner. I knew what to expect. I knew what to look out for.

Paz was like sitting in the middle of an open room with doors on every wall… Maybe the room was even a circle, and the doors were identical just to make it more confusing. I felt like being here with Paz was so full of uncertainty. Any door might open at any second, and who knew what would lie behind it.

Maybe a Rancor. Maybe a Jawa.

Or maybe it would be stars.

Having raised my head, I took a puffy-eyed glance around the hull. The first thing that caught my attention was the round window from before.

I had never seen anything so breathtaking. What was this? Why were there streaks of light - blues and whites - flying past us.

I couldn't help myself.

Rising up on sore muscles and blistered feet, I shuffled my way to the window’s ledge. I lifted a hand and placed a few fingers on the lip, the cool glass feeling nice on my warm skin.

It was truly mesmerizing. Was this space? Was that truly what the galaxy looked like? Just a blur of little stars and planets, flying by so fast they looked like thin threads.

I would make something keen to a blanket from those threads. It would be blue, white, and black. It would look just as beautiful as the scenery beyond the glass. I would sleep under it - under thousands of stars. No one would touch me under my little blanket. I would be too lost in the galaxy for them to find me anyhow.

“Clothes.”

I jumped, spun on my feet and pulled my hands to my chest.

Paz stood at the bottom of the ladder. I hadn't even heard him come down.

He held a bundle of clothes in one hand, and in the other was my collar which no longer displayed the holo.

“You’ll get cold in what you’re wearing, so I thought you might like to change,” Paz said.

He had brought me clothes? From the looks of it, they were big and made from thick looking wool. They must have been his.

Of course! This whole time he had been dressed from head to toe in armor, while I was still clad in that skimpy dancer’s outfit. I must have been making him uncomfortable.

“... Um. I can set them in the ‘fresher for you.”

Oh. I should say something. “That’s ok,” I said, taking a few steps toward him. “You don’t have to do that.”

My eyes must have been puffy. I wanted to rub at them.

Paz handed me the clothes.

“Thank you,” I said. I took one last glance at him before I started walking away. I tried my best not to let on to my hurt feet. I had already been given more care from him than I ever had from anyone else before. I didn’t want to bother him.

Stepping into the refresher, I didn’t quite know what to do with myself.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I had good hygiene habits and was always keeping myself clean - I had just never used a shower with water before. Sonic showers were all that was allowed at Jabba’s. Tatooine was a planet with so little water it had to be carefully extracted from the air. Water showers were considered wasteful luxuries very few could afford.

Should I ask Paz how this worked? Maybe not, he must have been busy. I could just skip the shower all together, but I would still be covered in a layer of sweat and sand. Then again, what if I started to fiddle with something and ended up breaking his nice shower? That didn’t sound too great either. Hmm…

Welp… I suppose the worst that could happen was a bruised cheek and unanswered question.

Clutching his clothes tightly to my chest, I turned around and poked my head out from the doorway.

Sitting on a crate on the other end of the hull was the big blue Mandalorian. He was fiddling with my collar, taking it apart and organizing the parts.

I wondered what that red blinking thing was.

“Paz?” I called, my voice feeling small and unsure.

His head shot up and he immediately stopped what he was doing. “Yes, Sarad?”

I would ask what that meant another time.

“Um, I-I don’t know how to use your shower,” I weakly admitted.

Paz stood up and slowly walked over to me.

I flinched as he passed, not having expected him to actually enter the small room. He must not have thought my question was that dumb after all.

Paz gestured to a few knobs and switches on the wall.

“This one,” he pointed. “Turns the water on while this other one controls the temperature.”

“Temperature?” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

Paz turned his head to look at me. “The hot water doesn't last very long though, but I wouldn't worry about it too much.”

“Oh…” Then I wouldn't waste his hot water.

What would a hot shower feel like? Sonic showers were the same temperature as the air in the rooms they were in. They had no temperature control. Could I make this shower have cold water?

“These other switches are for the lights, but you don’t have to worry about those for now either,” Paz explained.

“Thank you,” I said, setting his clothes onto the small counter.

I felt something brush against my shoulder, and I tensed.

“I hope this won’t scar,” whispered Paz, running a gloved finger just under the skin of my irritated neck. “Though it would be a show of your strength. Resilience.”

My strength?

“...Paz?”

“Hmm.”

“...Have...Have you ever had a slave before? Owned one, I mean.”

Paz’s hand immediately retreated to his side. “No.”

A curt answer. Short and to the point. I supposed I should have elaborated.

“Well, I don’t mean to be-” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. “-Overbearing, or anything. But, what would a Mandalorian want with a slave?”

“... Excuse me?”

Yep, this wasn’t a good idea. I shouldn’t have asked. I should have kept my mouth shut and-

“Is that what you still think you are? Do you think you’re my slave?” Paz asked, though I don’t think I was supposed to answer. Was it malice in his voice or disappointment?

Maybe I wasn’t his slave, but rather he was taking me to someone else. Perhaps he didn’t like that word - slave - and wanted to call me something different. Or maybe-

Oh. That’s right. He thought I was someone from his childhood. Someone he had lost.

“You, (Y/n), are not a slave. You never will be again, do you understand?”

I weakly nodded my head.

“I need you to say it. You are not a slave.”

“...I’m not a slave,” I said, though I didn’t actually believe those words. There must have been a catch to this.

“You can go wherever you want and do whatever you want. If you want me to drop you off on the closest planet, just tell me. If you want to say what’s on your mind, say it. You are not in chains anymore, and you certainly don’t belong to anyone. You are free,” Paz said, his voice was firm.

I’m not a slave. I can do what I want. I can say what I want… I-

“I am free,” I whispered. I felt a lump forming in my throat.

I did not belong to Paz. He had freed me. He was giving me this opportunity to start over.

All I could do was nod my head while my throat closed up and I tried to keep the waterworks from starting. I could feel my lip starting to quiver and I hoped the big blue Mandalorian would leave before the dam broke.

Paz nodded his head, “Good. No one can tell you what to do ever again.” He then brushed past me and into the hull. The door closed behind him.

I stood there for a moment, focused on my breathing and not my racing heart.

I turned on the water like Paz showed me and started taking off my- Oola’s clothes.

I stepped into the shower, muscles tensing at the cold temperature. I intentionally set it that way so I wouldn't waste any warm water.

I felt the droplets cascade down my face. It soon became difficult to tell what water was from the shower and what came from my silent crying.

I felt so overwhelmed with happiness and fear. I was ecstatic at the prospect of no longer being a slave. Paz said no one could tell me what to do anymore. I liked that. I didn’t want to be forced into anything ever again.

However, this brought forth so many new questions. What was I going to do with myself? Where would I go? Would Paz want me around? Did I even want to stay with Paz? I didn’t even know how to survive on my own. If Paz dropped me off on some foreign planet, I would have no idea how to make a life for myself.

Damn the maker, I couldn't even read!

Stepping out of the shower and turning it off, I took a look at myself in the mirror.

Who was that? I had never seen myself all wet before. My hair looked a shade darker and was weighed down by all the water it had soaked up. Was this what people normally looked like after getting wet?

I had never felt so clean. I was refreshed and much calmer than I had been before. I decided I would never use a sonic shower again if I could avoid it.

Water showers were much nicer.

I took the clothes Paz had given me and put them on. They were far too big. The black long-sleeved shirt was more like a dress on me. The sleeves hung past my fingers in a way that made me feel like I could gently slap something with them. The pants, on the other hand, were gray loose-fitting sweats, likely meant more for lounging than for bounty hunter work. They were also much too long, so I rolled them up till I could see my feet.

These must have been clothes that Paz slept in.

I had to reuse the undergarments that came with Oola’s outfit. Maybe I could ask Paz to take me someplace where I could get my own.

Maybe… Or I could just rewash these and not bother him with it. What would be worse, asking for new clothes or asking for a place to wash these? Hmm… I didn’t know what would be less trouble for him.

Walking out of the ‘fresher, I saw Paz had once again been working on my collar. I wondered what he was doing with it.

I had my- Oola’s clothes folded and clutched to my chest. I stood there awkwardly.

What would I do now?

“Um, thank you,” I said.

Paz looked up from where he sat.

“For everything, I mean… I’ve never taken a shower with water before. It’s really nice.”

Paz nodded his head. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long day and I’m sure you're tired.”

I was. My feet still hurt and so did my neck. Would this Mandalorian go to sleep as well?

“Ok,” I said.

I remember Paz saying I could sleep in his bed, so I made my way to his quarters.

Opening the door and walking it, the room was much smaller than I imagined it would be for such a big Mandalorian.

In fact, it wasn’t even really a room. It was only a bed and took up the whole space.

I crawled inside and shuffled around to pull back the sheets. I layed down on the only pillow, leaving the door up as to not feel boxed in.

Then I realized my damp hair was making the pillow wet so I pushed the pillow aside and layed down without it.

How did Paz fit in here? There was no way I could imagine him sleeping comfortably in such a tight space.

Regardless, this was the best thing I had ever laid on. It was much nicer than a soiled mattress with only a thin blanket.

It was warm too. Much warmer than what I was used to. Everything was soft and cozy. I felt safe here.

Safe enough to fall asleep.

(Part 4 coming soon!)

Mandoa Translations:

“Shereshir be Ade” - “Kidnapping of Children”

“Ni ceta” - an apology (rare)

“Sarad” - “Flower”

(If you are interested in being added to the tag list, please tap/click this link Tag List & More 💕 Same goes for being taken off the tag list 😊)

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz viszla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x y/n #paz vizsla x you #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #also on ao3

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silentauroriamthereal · 4 years

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So, I watched Happiest Season yesterday, and I have thoughts. A lot of thoughts. Spoilers abound and this is long, so I’ll put this under a cut.

Happiest Season: a review

You have to ask yourself how “happy” a happy ending really is when you glance down at the time bar on the film and see that there’s less than fifteen minutes left and none of the story’s problems have been even remotely resolved.

Skip to the closing credits, and I hadn’t changed my mind. This is a “happy” ending where a great deal of the problems in the plot were left either completely unresolved, or whose happiness wasn’t earned – wasn’t properly fleshed out, developed, supported, or in fact, even happy.

What an incredibly toxic family the Caldwells are. Let’s start with them: there are three daughters. Sloan has apparently cemented her parents’ permanent disappointment by having left a promising legal career in favour of raising a family. Side tangent: are we really still having this discussion, in 2020? This binary choice between family OR career? Besides, Sloan evidently developed a different, and very lucrative career. I also strongly dislike the way the perception of her marriage ending is portrayed as a failure. Her awful parents both resent her having left the legal field, yet have refused to now see her as anything other than a parent, ignoring her new career choice and, it seems, literally anything else about her. Then we have Jane, who is overtly abused. Treated as lesser than anyone else in the family apart from technical support with malfunctioning printers, Jane is constantly criticized, chastised, literally told to not put herself in the centre of the family for a holiday photo. I was horrified and devastated by the wanton destruction of her painting at the end, too. I’m happy for her that her book got published and that she found success there, but I hate that this brutal, completely unnecessary destruction of her art happened and was totally overlooked.

I’m going to come back to Harper, because there’s a LOT to say there.

The way the parents, Tipper and Ted, treated Abby, was appalling from start to finish. Leaving aside the ENTIRE question of the secret girlfriend thing, if my family ever treated a friend or even distant acquaintance the way the Caldwells treated Abby, I would be furious with them. I used to frequently bring friends who were international students or just on their own for the holidays to my parents’ place for Thanksgiving dinner or Christmas festivities. These people were so, so, so incredibly rude to Abby, from ignoring her when she first arrived to giving her a terrible bedroom with a door that doesn’t lock, to walking in on her multiple times while she was changing or in bed – that level of complete disrespect infuriated me! Just allowing those awful kids to be in her private space without any sort of discipline, consequences, or apologies was unacceptable. The way they treated Abby after those same kids – which she was stuck with, without any sort of request to watch them – planted that necklace on her, was unacceptable. The utter lack of apology for having literally accused her of theft, for accusing her multiple times after that – WOW. Treating Abby as though she was the unexpected, extra guest at the restaurant that first night, and giving the ex-boyfriend the parents kept shoving on Harper the proper one was unacceptable.

Then there’s how Harper treated Abby. Let’s start with the restaurant: first of all, had my parents pulled that stunt on my friend/guest/secret girlfriend, I would have let them know then and there that it wasn’t okay. And then I would have, I don’t know, asked the staff to bring a proper chair, and if that turned out to be impossible, I would have insisted that she take mine instead, and sat on the little chair myself. Asking anyone to closet themselves is an act of violence, and watching that as a member of the LGBTQ2+ community was actively harmful to witness. Again, a lot of the crap that Harper subjected Abby to would have been awful no matter WHO Abby was: you don’t abandon your guest to hang out with old friends. If they’re ready to go home, then you go home with them. It’s basic hospitality. Considering that Abby was Harper’s partner, that’s a whole extra layer of harm. THEN add the ex-boyfriend, a horribly-treated ex-girlfriend, and toxic old friends to the mix, and you have something beyond appalling. Adding this stuff on top of not standing up for Abby to her family, not insisting that she be given somewhere proper to sleep during her time in her parents’ house, not insisting that she be treated with the most basic respect, not defending her during the whole jewellery theft situation, and even going along with the parents’ de-invitation to that dinner – that’s inexcusable. You don’t treat other people that way, much less your partner. Then add Harper calling Abby controlling, while simultaneously having the nerve to get angry about Abby spending time with Riley, which is possibly the only good thing that happened for Abby during that entire, awful trip – yeah. I was finished with Harper by that point.

Harper also actively participated in the way her sisters were constantly put down by their parents. The responsibility of being the privileged favourite is to use your status to bring others up. Harper doesn’t appear to have any sort of spine or courage whatsoever. It was only after she was forcibly outed by Sloan – and such was her privilege that the parents believed that it was a “malicious” lie rather than a “shocking” secret – that Harper even admitted the truth, and that was only after forcing Abby to watch her deny it yet it again. While I did love John (the gay best friend)’s entire speech about someone’s love not being the same thing as being ready to come out, there is nonetheless a ton of harm in forcing your partner watch that. It does affect them. It does disavow their identity at the same time, when they’re in a relationship with you. Her pattern of behaviour of throwing other people under the bus, like Riley, is very much intact.

I completely comprehend Harper’s fear of being rejected by her family. Apparently it was a well-founded fear, based on her awful, awful parents. That’s one of the reasons why the ending didn’t resonate for me at all: it wasn’t earned. Harper’s turn-around from being completely unwilling to have her parents know the truth to claiming that Abby was the only thing that mattered to her, came out of nowhere. It wasn’t a supported development. It happened too quickly. Similarly, the parents both going from being just about the worst parents on the planet to having a VERY sudden change of heart and behaviour, just happened unbelievably quickly. There was no questioning the entire history of their practises or what was wrong with them, no questioning how they’d treated any of their kids. The whole “consequence” for Ted was deciding, of his own accord, not to align himself with a politician who would force Harper to zip it – sorry, continue to zip it – about her identity. He shouldn’t have aligned himself with that woman in the first place. No one ever apologized to Abby about the way they treated her from start to finish, from patronizing her for being an orphan or the constant lack of respect shown her, to the false accusations of theft. Not a single part of it was atoned for at any point. Even Tipper being so disgusted with Abby’s ipad photography skills was disgusting. You just don’t talk to other human beings that way, and there was no resolution for me on any of this. There were also no consequences for Sloan’s horrific, SUPER-public outing of Harper, for Harper’s destruction of Jane’s painting, for the kids’ planting of the necklace on Abby, or for anyone’s horrendous treatment of Abby in general.

So yes: when you’re less than fifteen minutes out from the end of a supposed romantic comedy that was more upsetting to watch than entertaining or funny, and you’re actively rooting for the main character to walk away from her so-called partner and her toxic family, that’s not good. I’m not sold on the “romance” aspect, either. John (Dan Levy’s character) was the only good part of this movie, for me, and that’s overlooking his completely rude ignoring while on his phone at the beginning, or his negligent care of the animals he was supposed to be taking care of. (Gross, again – animals’ lives have value, too, and if my pet sitter killed my pet through negligence while I was away, I would be furious!) But his point about “sticking it to the patriarchy” in terms of Abby asking Ted for his permission/blessing to marry Harper was spot on. For all the hype about this being a progressive, lesbian, holiday rom-com, this film managed to perpetuate a lot of gross aspects of straight, white, misogynistic, heteronormative culture, like women being the property of their fathers and needing to obtain a male parent’s “permission” to marry another human being. The only person’s “permission” that was needed here was Harper’s, and then it’s not about permission – it’s about two adults making a consensual decision to commit themselves to each other. It’s great if you have the support of family – aka, BOTH parents, on BOTH sides – but that support is a bonus, not a prerequisite. Perpetuating the false dichotomy of family vs career for women only, is a harmful one to keep perpetuating. That question is never asked of men.

I was honestly kind of disgusted that Abby chose to stay with Harper by the end. I get it, but it definitely didn’t leave me with warm, romantic feelings. It left me with the deflated feeling I invariably experience whenever a woman makes the choice to be the bigger person and submit herself to a damaging situation or relationship. Mostly what I’m left with is anger that no one spoke up for Abby at any point, even John. That, and anger and sorrow over Jane’s painting. So yeah: it wasn’t as bad as bury your gays, but it also wasn’t really a happy ending for me, or super enjoyable to watch. Do better, Hollywood. Do a lot better.

#happiest season #reviews #lgbtq2+#bury your gays

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

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Fandom racism anon here and yeah absolutely (I didn't realise I had anon on lol)

Because while LOTR has problems within its themes (ie the orcs can be seen as to be coded as people of colour, especially since they ride elephants) the explicit message of the book is evil bad

Because the only people who work for sauron are evil. There are no morally grey people, they aren't misguided or tricked they just are evil and want to take over the world

And yeah I totally agree that this is more of a literal take on like empirical war (is that the word) and that makes total sense considering Tolkiens history

Whereas I would say that the allegories in shaowhunters is way more based on racial conflict within a country itself especially slavery, I can't remember if this is show Canon but is it that they have the warlock tropheys? I remember that in the books magnus talks about shadowhunters hanging warlock marks on their walls? (sorry to bring the books up)

Idk it's very hollow to me, unlike with LOTR though it's a different allegory it's totally irritating to show many of these supremecists as morally misled. LOTR says bad guys are bad guys, shadowhunters says well yeah they did follow a guy which thinks that downworlders are subhuman and should be eradicated but they just made a mistake

I want to compare this to tfatws which while it isn't really fantasy I just feel like it shows how the priorities of the writer can impact the message of the show so powerfully (I know u aren't up to date so I'm gonna be pretty vague)

There's a scene in tfatws where the new white perfect captain America does something bad and doesn't pay for the consequences - done to comment on white privelege and how America condones white supremacy and how Sam is in comparison to that

Mayrse and Robert revealed to be part of the circle! And paid no consequences Shock horror my parents were the bad guys (even rho they were either implicitly or explicitly extremely racist the entire time) also I haven't finished the seires but do the lightwoods ever try to get their parents to face the consequences?)

Only one actual really critiques the situation and the reality behind it whereas the other one is just to centre the white characters once again and present them in a further sympathetic light

AND ANOTHER THING! I was mostly talking about show Canon here and I'm sorry to bring up the books but I literally can't believe I hadn't picked up in this before.

So like downworlders = people of colour, Simon is a vampire so is coded as a person of colour. However in the books in the last one he stops being a vampire and becomes a shadowhunters instead, coincidentally that's also when he starts dating Izzy HOW IS THIS ABLE TO HAPPEN!!????

I mean I know cassandra clare is lazy right? The original seires is by far the worst of all her writings but come ON!!!!! By the allegory has he become the white man!????? These books made no fuckin sense when I read them at 15 and they make no sense now I'm digressing anyways

I don't know man I wrote this ask because I was trying to find some fantasy book recommendations on booktube and SO MANY of them were about slavery or general ly extrême préjudice with à White protagonist to save this 'poor souls'.

Also I was watching guardians of the galexy the other day and realised nearly every movie set in space is just bigger stakes imperialism - planets instead of countries. Literally star wars, star trek, guardians of the galexy 2, avengers infinity war - all are facing genocidal imperialistic villains without actually paying much, if any attention to those effected

Just writing this ask made me exhausted I'm so tired of lazy writing and exploiting other people's struggle. I'm white and I'm trying to be more critical about the movies, shows and books I watch and read but let me know if I said something off here❤️❤️ you gotta get up to date with tfatws man, Sambucky nation is THRIVING!!!!

i'm not sure i agree that the whole "the evil people are evil" thing is a good thing, because i feel like more often than not making the bad characters just like... unidimensionally evil just means that the reader will be like "lol i could NEVER be that guy" and when it comes to racism that is a dangerous road to take because white people already believe that racism is something that Only The Most Evil People, Ergo, Not Me, Can Do, which makes discussions of stuff like subconscious racial bias and active antiracist work become more difficult because people don't believe they CAN be racist unless they're like, Lord Voldemort

which is not to say that racism should be treated as morally ambiguous, just that the workings of racism should be represented as something that is not done only by the Most Hardcore And Evil, but rather as a part of a system of oppression that affects the way everyone sees the world and interacts with it and lives in it

yes the warlock trophies are mentioned in the show, albeit very quickly (there is a circle member who tells magnus that his cat eyes will make "a nice addition to his collection" and then it's never mentioned again because this is sh and we love using racism for shock value but then not actually treating it as a serious plot point or something that affects oppressed ppl). and you are absolutely right, shadowhunters (and hp, and most fantasy books) has genocide as its core conflict and treats it, like you said, in a very hollow way, treating racism as both not a big deal and not something that is part of a system of oppression, but really the actions of a few Very Bad People. it's almost impressive how they manage to do both at the same time tbh

i think you hit the nail right on the head with this comment, actually. for most of these works, racism is SHOCK VALUE. it's just like "lol isn't it bad that this bad guy wants to kill a gazillion people just because they are muggles? now that is fucked up" but it's not actually an issue. in fact, when this guy is defeated, the whole problem is over! racism is not something that is embedded into that world, it's not a systemic issue, it's not even actually part of what drives the plot. the things that led to this person not only existing but rising to power and gathering enough followers to be a real threat to the whole world are never mentioned. it's like racists are born out of thin air, which is dangerously close to implying that racism is just a natural part of life, tbh

anyway my point is, it is never supposed to be questioned, it is never part of a deeper plot or story, its implications are barely addressed except for a few fleeting comments them and there; so, it's not a critique, it's shock value, even though it is frequently disguised as a critique (which is always empty and shallow anyway. like what is the REAL critique in works like hp or sh/tsc other than "genocide is bad"? wow such a groundbreaking take evelyn)

about simon and the book thing: i actually knew about this and the weird thing about this is that, like... simon is jewish, and he's implied to be ashkenazi (calls his grandma bubbe which is yiddish, which is a language spoken by the ashkenazi ppl), and it seems like cc is always toeing the line between him being accepted by shadowhunters and then not accepted by them, which sounds a lot like antisemitic tropes and history of swinging between (ashkenazi) jewish ppl being seen as the model minority myth and thus used as an example by white christians, and being hated and persecuted. i'm not super qualified to talk about this since i'm not jewish and i'm still learning about/unlearning antisemitism and its tropes, and i don't really have a fully formed thought on that, tbh; it just reminds me of the whole "model minority" swinging, where one second simon is part of the majority, the other he's not, but always he is supposed to give up a part of himself and his identity in other to be "assimilated" by shadowhunter culture. this article (link) covers a book on jewish people and assimilationism into USan culture, this article (link) covers british jews' relationship with being considered an ethnic group, and this article (link) talks a bit about the model minority myth from the perspective of an asian jewish woman

it just really calls to my attention that cc chose to make her ashkenazi jewish character start off as a downworlder and then become a shadowhunter. i don't think she made that decision as a conscious nod to this history, because it would require being informed on antisemitism lol but it's incredible how you can always see bigoted stereotypes shining through her narrative choices completely by accident. it just really shows how ingrained it is in our collective minds and culture

and anyway, making a character go from the oppressed group to just suddenly become the oppressor is just. wtf. not how oppression works, but most of all, really disrespectful, especially because she clearly treats it as an "upgrade"/"glowup" that earns him the Love Of His Life

also, out of curiosity, are you french? it seems like your autocorrect changed a few words and i'm pretty sure extrême and préjudice are the french versions of these words, and since u said ur white, that's where my money would be lol

#anti cc #anti tsc #anti tmi #anti sh #racism tw #antisemitism tw #reference #ask #residenthottiesamwilson

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occasionalrpmemes · 4 years

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Will Wood: the Normal Album Sentence Starters

lines taken from the 2020 album. edit as desired. tw: violence, disordered eating, gender dysphoria, mental illness, substance abuse, suicidal ideation, death

01. Suburbia Overture: Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

“Trick or treat. Merry Christmas.”

“Howdy neighbor!”

“Thank you Jesus!”

“It don’t look like survival, but buy now or die.”

“You’re not alone.”

“The lights are on, but no one’s home.”

“Takes a village to fake a whole culture.”

“Home is where the heart is- You ain’t homeless, but you’re heartless.”

“It’s the safest on the market.”

“You still gotta watch where you park it.”

“Give me your half-life crisis.”

“I can tell that you know where paradise is.”

“Parasites don’t care what your blood type is.”

“A snowflake only matters in a blizzard.”

“Everyone knows that nobody knows that.”

“Well, word gets around on hit number stations.”

“Smile and wave, boys, kiss the cook, live laugh and love, please pass the pills.”

“It’s only culture. It’s only culture. It’s only culture.”

“Didn’t they want your blood?”

“Why apologize when you turn blue and cold?

“Hey, fuck your culture.”

“Do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash-and-burn?”

“Hey, you’re only mortal.”

02. 2econd 2ight 2eer (well, that was fun, goodbye)

“The devil made me do it, but I also kinda wanted to.”

“Forget bored stiff, I got rigor mortis.”

“My third eye’s open and I like what I see.”

“If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see- ”

“But I got facts and I’m not afraid to use ‘em.”

“I’m getting better one forever at a time.”

“If sick is defined by what’s different, well then pull the plug out and let me die.”

”Who I am, I choose through all the things I do.”

“If it rhymes, it’s true, but I hate poetry.”

“Well that was fun, goodbye.”

03. Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!)

“Have you ever died in a nightmare? Woke up surprised you hadn’t earned your fate?”

“Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis, and collapsed and threw the planet away?”

“Nobody dies agnostic.”

“Nobody dies agnostic, but we still dial 9-1-1.”

“Am I really that bad?”

“Whatever you think of me, if you were in my shoes, you’d walk the same damn miles I do.”

“With my head up in the clouds, I can see so much ground.”

“From up here, you look like ants in a row.”

“It doesn’t take a killer to murder. It only takes the reason to kill.”

“The difference twixt fate and free will is whether you’re singing.”

“You wash your hands of where you’ve been until you flood the second floor. Neatly fold your skeletons, but still can’t shut the closet door.”

“The only ones in need of love are those who don’t receive enough.”

“You could break an angel’s fall, and ignore the Devil’s call.”

“It’s a small hell after all.”

“Man, no more than animal, is made of moral chemicals.”

“If you were in my shoes, you’d see I wear the same size as you.”

04. I / Me / Myself

“I’ve been feeling lightheaded since I lost enough weight to fit back in my skin.”

“Am I pretty now?”

“For some reason, I find myself lost in what you think of me.”

“I wish I could be a girl, and that way you’d wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend.”

“Am I pretty enough to lie to?”

“Just little old me in a big, big world.”

“I’ve been feeling lighthearted since I gained enough weight back to cover my bones.”

“You’ll be walking out early, but the show must go on.”

“No, I know that I’m wrong. But I love how you’re on my side when I cross that line.”

“It’s been a point of contention between myself and this body that they stuck me in.”

“The privilege of being born to be a man.”

”I am quantum physics; my witness brings me into existence.”

”Am I pretty enough to love back?”

“Am I pretty enough to fucking die?”

“I wish-”

“Don’t you think that there’s a chance that you could live without it?”

05. ...well, better than the alternative

“My daughter’s growing up. She’s gonna be a lot like me, but I don’t wanna be at all like me.”

“I don’t wanna be at all like me.”

“You’re telling me I’m holding up eleven fingers.”

“Stranger things than death can happen.”

“Everybody knows that nobody knows that.”

“Everybody’s in on everybody’s business.”

“This isn’t my first Christmas, I know mistletoe when I see it.”

“Baby, could you play along with me?”

“Baby, would that be alright with you?”

“When we find out what’s wrong with me, could you tell me how I’m right for you?”

“Could you tell me how I’m right for you?”

“Could you tell me if I’m still pretty?”

“If they could see the future back when times were simple...”

“If everyone’s sick, well then, nobody can catch it.”

“Everybody’s all up in my god damn business.”

“This isn’t my first kiss.”

“It’s better to be lost than loved, now, isn’t it?”

“Everybody’s all up in my motherfucking business!”

“This isn’t my first anything.”

“After all of that’s been done to me, could you tell me how, could you tell me how, could you tell me—”

“What’s so wrong about what’s wrong with me?”

“I’m just trying to do what’s right by you!”

06. Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples

“Did you know that the hole in the apple didn’t come from the outside in? It was eaten from the core and out to the skin, and that’s why you’ll never find the worm in it.”

“The disease is defined by its treatment.”

“You people make me sick.”

“Who’d want to be human anyway?”

“Why’d you come into this world or come out that way?”

“Isn’t it funny? Well, not "ha-ha" funny, but y’know, funny.”

“I doubt that you would even if you could change.”

“You think it makes you special, but it makes you strange.”

“The things that make you special are the things that make you strange.”

“I am the shadows cast aside by gallows, and you the red-hot sky.”

“And if you’re believers, then why would you grieve for the dead, instead of a devil that you never prayed for?”

“Too weird to love, too scared to die. Too alien to take you home.”

“Who’d want to belong to anyone?”

“I mean, what do people even do?”

“If you love me, let me let you go.”

“Five more minutes, please? You wouldn’t believe the dream I just had.”

07. Black Box Warrior - OKULTRA

“Bless the torpedoes!”

“For what? For what??”

“For what it’s worth, if it was going to kill you, boy, it would have by now.”

“There’s no more looking back, it’s looking up or looking down.”

“Wonder if Christ-Consciousness would charge a cancellation fee.”

“Auf wiedersehn! Au revoir!”

“Hello, welcome. Why don’t you take a seat? Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to.”

“Now, what’s bothering you?”

“Well, why don’t we start at the beginning?”

“Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?”

“Did you die before your day?”

“You got a better idea? It’s about the best we could come up with.”

“What, you think ideas spread because they’re good? No, they spread because people like them.”

“So here we are once again. Holding, as it were, a mirror up to your mirror.”

“I guess it’s just something people do!”

“You learn to be an animal instead.”

“I never did think you better than this.”

“It’s you who are the problem. Not the things you do, but something sick inside.”

“Boy, you really is defective.”

“Offer up your innocence, please ignore the side effects.”

“You’ve lost your mind and almost lost your life before, so you’ll be fine!”

“Why would you want to look back? I mean, it’s no good looking back. So try to look forward now.”

“For what it’s worth, if they were gonna get you boy, they would have by now.”

08. Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave.

“They could prescribe you any illness you’d like if you define the terms of your ailments.”

“A crow don’t know the smell of carbon monoxide.”

“How many years have you been on that couch?”

“Your draw a line in the sand where it ends and you begin, but the tide rolls in, so who knows?”

“A little identity never hurt nobody, but lately you’ve been focusing too much on yourself.”

“How many milligrams of you are still left in there?”

“Back in my day, we didn’t need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists. We just drank ourselves to death. And god damn it, we liked it!”

“What’s a symptom, what’s a flaw, can it be both?”

“Well, I suppose that’s an answer.”

“Would you give up your humanity for just a touch of sanity?”

“They’ve discovered a cure for the symptoms of being alive. It’s a painless procedure with a low rate of failure, but very few patients survive.”

“And a little conformity never hurt nobody, but lately I’ve been worried that you’re losing yourself.”

“What’s my prognosis?”

“Disease is in the eye of the beholder.”

“Tell me ‘so it goes.’”

“Better safe than sorry, and we both know the danger.”

“So doctor, could you run another test?”

“If our harmonies don’t sync, we can change our voices.”

“Don’t heed no evil wills of moral nihilists.”

“Don’t you make me waste my breath.”

“GOD DAMN IT!”

“Does aspirin kill you with the pain?“

“You’re not your thoughts, you’re not your brain, you’re just the character you’ve made.”

“What seem like separate body parts come together to believe they’re you, and not just chemistry.”

“It’s not the way that you were raised, or what the advertisements say.”

“It’s not what you pay for, what you pray for, what you want, or what you say.”

“Something tells me that you need, forgive me now if I misspeak--”

“Something tells me you prefer to be sitting there flipping through those old issues of People.”

“Well, that’s our time. See you next week.”

09. Love, Me Normally

“In lipstick on the mirror are the lyrics to my obituary.”

“Crossing my eyes, dot my T’s.”

“I was delivered holding scissors.”

“I live deliberately, I’m a quitter.”

“I never agreed to participate in this game.”

“Won’t follow my dreams, cause they all got me waking up screaming.”

“I’d rather be normal. Yes, so normal.”

“I suggest that we keep this informal.”

“A normal human being wouldn’t need to pretend to be normal.”

“Well, I guess that’s the least that I owe ya.”

“C’mon, c’mon, and love me normally.”

“If I could live in third person, well, I don’t think life would be much worse than it is.”

“Is it courageous or escapist to leave the quarantine when you’re contagious?”

“It may just be a cold. And besides, I don’t wanna get old.”

“I drank myself to death to be the afterlife of the party.”

“When the afterparty came, I was rolling in my grave.”

“Now, this is the part of the song where I talk to my audience.”

“There’s something I want from you hepcats tonight.”

“I want you to look to your left. Look to your right. Your twelve o’clock, three o’clock, six o’clock, nine o’clock, rock around the clock tonight–”

“I want you to find those points of no return, those singularities, those burning rings of fire in the beautiful pupils and the beautiful eyes of the beautiful boy, girl, neither, both, or in-between that you brought with you tonight. And I want you to tell ’em how you really feel!”

“Jam that square peg in the round hole in their hearts!”

“You love them exactly the way that everybody else is.”

“I was nothing before, so I couldn’t have asked to be born. I’ll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then?”

“Is there nothing to fear? Cause shit’s getting weird.”

“So to God who made this man: you better have one hell of a plan.”

10. Memento Mori: the most important thing

“If you’re lucky you’ll be surrounded by the ones that you love, when the lights in your eyes fade and life flashes by.

“One day you’re going to die.”

“Heaven, hell, nirvana, nothing, no one knows how it ends.”

“Rest in peace— or pieces.”

“Read your horoscopes, your palms and tarot cards. But either way your destination ain’t very far.”

“You could drown, or choke, or burn, or be hit by a car.”

“What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but something will eventually.”

“One day you’ll look back at the life that you lead. No more future left to fear that you’ll have the past to regret.”

“But your worries will be over if you truly realize— one day you’re going to die!”

“Take it away, hands!”

“In the fabric of time and in the vastness of space, a billion amounts to nothing in infinity’s face.”

“Your life never mattered, so who cares if it's a waste?”

“Well, one day you’ll be not even a faint memory.”

“You’ll never know what it all means.”

“Just keep this in mind: that everything and everyone goes with the passage of time.”

“No need to fear, ’cause when it’s here, you won’t be alive.”

“Try not to think about it!”

“So if you only have one chance, you oughta try your best to live as you like.”

#rp memes #sentence starters #dialogue prompt #writing prompt #wwattw

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cruelfeline · 4 years

Text

This Got Long and I am Sorry

Well, the anti in the Hordak tag deleted their post, which is a huge bummer because it means no fun games for me. But! I have been looking forward to addressing the points in that post all day, and I won’t give up my chance to talk ad nauseam about Hordak. Because y’all know that I love to talk about Hordak.

also I saved the post as a draft prior to it getting deleted so I actually have the whole thing hahaha

However: in order to prevent the original poster from getting harassed for said post, I’m just going to address points via my own summary. Safer that way! So, here we go: addressing some posited reasons that Catra and Hordak are not comparable, plus some claims about why Hordak can’t be treated with the same kindness many like to treat Catra with.

1. Hordak being a clone of a dictator/not being biologically similar to Catra et. al, acting as he does because of this biology as a clone.

This portion of that post was a little odd because I don’t really understand what the argument was. Perhaps the idea that Hordak literally cannot be anything different than his progenitor due to... cloning science? I’m not sure.

But assuming that that was the intended argument: being a clone essentially means having the same DNA as someone else. That’s all. It does not mean that you are the exact same person (ask some identical twins if they are the same exact person as their sibling). The environment one is raised in, along with epigenetics (changes in individuals due to gene expression rather than DNA), provides infinite variations between individuals that might share the same DNA. So this argument is a little... nonsensical?

Now, I can definitely buy that some of Hordak’s morality might be biology-based; that is a legitimate argument. See this post regarding why an individual like Hordak may not have issues raising children for his army, for example. Mind you, I don’t really see this as an argument in support of him just being an evil, irredeemable bastard; rather, I look at it as an argument against “natural evil” and more in favor of different biological, cultural, and environmental factors creating an alien morality.

2. Hordak created a social system that resulted in all sorts of abuses being visited upon children. He viewed said children as disposable materials for his war.

...yeah, actually, just go to this post again. Honestly, I have zero expectation for Hordak to have any sort of special tenderness towards children. I don’t expect a clone from a society of clones to value children, not because he’s pure evil, but because he comes from a world where children aren’t a thing. Why would he value them?

A creature whose life is so different from ours as to give it a different sense of morals isn’t necessarily evil, even if they do things that we look upon as evil via our morality. Morality is not a universal constant; our evil may be meaningless to an alien, whereas our good might be horrifying to them. It all depends on the creature.

And as far as seeing children as disposable material for war: well, that follows, doesn’t it? Because after all, Hordak is also disposable material for war. Material that was actually disposed of.

3. Hordak was ready to murder Catra for disobeying orders; he’s likely murdered other high ranking officers for the same.

There is no evidence that Hordak has personally murdered anyone, so we’re just going to pass on that. One may speculate all one wants, but unless Hordak presents me with a neatly-written list of all the poor souls he’s slain, I don’t have much to say about this.

However, regarding him being ready to kill Catra: this is a complex situation because it was not as simple as “Catra disobeyed, so she must die.” Catra did not just disobey Hordak; she lied to him. He gave her a chance to come clean, to be trustworthy and loyal, to own up to a mistake, and she lied to him.

This is an issue for a couple of reasons: first, Hordak appears to have a thing about lies. He has a thing about people deceiving him (potentially because, where he comes from, he is truly incapable of lying), about not knowing what people around him are planning. Personally, I think that this is at least somewhat rooted in self-defense: he is physically weak without armor and prone to emotional manipulation by anyone who knows anything remotely intimate about him. Catra proves this point by manipulating the bejeezus out of him during season four, right after showing him that she can kill him anytime she likes by disarming him via crystal-grab. If one of his subordinates is prone to deceiving him, he needs to get rid of that subordinate to protect himself.

Second, when Catra loses Shadow Weaver, she truly does endanger the whole Horde. Like, Shadow Weaver literally helps the Princesses infiltrate during season three. That is a thing that happens. Hordak isn’t just pulling dumb moments of insubordination from thin air; he elects to eliminate Catra because she has done something that proves to be actually detrimental to the Horde in a serious way.

I don’t mean to say that Hordak is morally correct in sentencing Catra to death, first via Beast Island, then via Crimson waste; what I mean to say is that he enacts an extremely dramatic punishment not due to simple disobedience, but due to Catra being legitimately dangerous to his life and the life of the Horde. It’s still not “good,” but it’s not the same as killing Catra for mouthing off. It’s not some grand confirmation of irredeemable evil; it’s not that simple.

4. Catra is an abused child who has been broken physically, emotionally, and psychologically since she was an infant; Hordak, on the other hand, has no background in abuse. The only bad that has happened to him is being called a defect and sent out to fight and die, which didn’t really matter because he was a clone anyway.

This… this is a sentiment some antis hold that is honestly disturbing to me.

I won’t touch on the Catra portion; all of that is true.

But Hordak… I cannot comprehend how some people don’t seem to understand the true horror of Hordak’s situation. As far as we currently know, as of season four, Hordak was manufactured to be a tool of war. He was never meant to be his own person, despite clearly having the psyche of one. He didn’t even have, couldn’t have, his own name. He was born into this purpose with no way out, no hope for any choice of his own. For pity’s sake, he has a port in the back of his neck that allows him to be erased without a moment’s notice. That is a piece of hardware someone put in him to completely control him against his will. It is a level of bodily autonomy violation suffered by no one else on this show.

Hordak has essentially no personal self-esteem and no ability to self-validate outside of his identity as Prime’s clone. His entire concept of self-worth is based upon being useful to Prime, to the point that he doesn’t seem to understand that his being thrown away for getting sick is not only not his fault, but morally abhorrent. He is so emotionally dependent on his Brother that, despite severe risk to his own life, he seeks to return to him rather than simply taking Etheria for himself (which is what he would have done if he simply wanted to be a ruler). He needs Prime’s validation, Prime’s approval, that badly.

And he tries to obtain that approval despite being absolutely terrified of Prime, despite it being very clear to us that there is no way that Prime will ever give it as long as Hordak remains his own self. Despite all of that, Hordak needs it because he was manufactured and programmed and conditioned to worship this terrible creature, and he simply cannot grasp a different way to live. He’s too emotionally sick.

I’m not sure how someone can look at this character and not see what has happened to him, what is happening to him, as abuse.

5. Hordak only starts to care about anything else when Entrapta enters his life, and he only does so because she validates him; even then, it takes a long time.

This is a perplexing concept to me because… well, yes? Of course he only starts to see things differently when he bonds with Entrapta? Obviously?

Until then, he never had anyone suggest to him that he could be a worthwhile person without having some sort of practical use. He never had a companion to share his vulnerabilities with. He only had his sick ties to Prime.

Perhaps this means to suggest that Hordak should have started building a new life without the help he received from Entrapta? As if people suffering from mental illness and severe emotional pain should just be able to lift themselves up with zero support and fix their whole lives in a snap.

Ailing people tend to need other people’s support to get through their troubles. Hordak not being able to see new possibilities for his life without Entrapta’s help doesn’t say anything negative about him; all it says is that he needed someone’s support to start healing. Just as the overwhelming majority of people do.

6. Catra wants to be in charge so that others can’t hurt her. Hordak wants to be in charge just so he can “be on top,” and he only regrets what occurs with Prime because it means he is no longer dominant.

Hordak as a warlord is actually a very interesting thing to look at. He fails to act in the way that many enthusiastic, traditional warlord characters do, to the point that he seems less into the ruling and more into the obtainment of Prime’s esteem via conquering a planet to prove his worth. Which is, y’know, what’s happening: Hordak doesn’t care about ruling Etheria. He cares about conquering it so he can present it to Prime and prove that he deserves to live. The full post about that is right here.

If Hordak really cared about ruling something, he would have never bothered wasting all of that time building a portal to get in contact with Prime. He would have focused all of his efforts on conquering Etheria and left it at that. His actions only make sense when one understands that he doesn’t actually care about being a tyrannical lord; he cares about showing his Brother that he’s a good boy.

7. Catra feels regret for her actions; Hordak does not. Catra sees herself as an irredeemable bad person and hates herself. Hordak doesn’t believe he needs to be redeemed and just wants to control everything.

Again, I won’t touch Catra here, because that assessment is valid.

Hordak, however: Hordak literally thinks so little of himself that he believes it his own job to prove to his brother that he shouldn’t have been tossed aside to die. He doesn’t see this as a moral failing on Prime’s part. He doesn’t see it as wrong, that he was thrown away because he got sick. He sees it as a problem that it is his responsibility to fix.

Hordak admits to Entrapta that he has doubts: perhaps Prime was right. Perhaps he, Hordak, is a failure. Perhaps it was okay to send him out to die.

Hordak believes Catra’s lies about Entrapta’s “betrayal” because, Twitter Word of God, he views himself as undeserving of friendship.

Whether Hordak believes himself needing redemption is beside the point: the core of Hordak’s story and character arc has nothing to do with being a morally good person. It has to do with learning, understanding, and internalizing that he has his own value beyond what Horde Prime grants him. It has to do with accepting himself as he is, triumphs and shortcomings alike. It has to do with realizing that he has a right to live with or without Prime’s say-so.

Moral redemption has nothing to do with it because before Hordak has any hope of learning to respect the rights of others, he has to learn to fight for his own.

Am I done? I think I’m done.

Well. Regrettably, I had to summarize this, so the original poster’s words are not verbatim intact, but I think I got the sense of them! Also regrettably, they will likely not see or respond to this, so that chance for active dialogue is gone. But anyone else can respond if they like, including any antis lurking about the tag. Well; if you can slog through this whole thing!

Anyway, in conclusion: Hordak is a sad bastard man. He has just as many painful personal problems as Catra and will forever have all of my sympathy and kindness because I have decided that he deserves it. So there.

#hordak #catra #man I have been looking forward to writing this nonsense all day and it was a good time #i love talking about this bastard #to the point that i appreciate antis giving me posts to respond to #you go you angry little people

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dc-earth53 · 4 years

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#0001: Superman (Clark Kent/Kal-El)

Age: 45

Occupation: Reporter, adventurer

Marital status: Married

Known relatives: Jor-El (father, deceased), Lara Lor-Van (mother, deceased), Jonathan Kent (adoptive father), Martha Kent (adoptive mother), Lois Lane-Kent (wife), Jon Kent (son), Conner Kent/Kon-El (clone “brother”), Zor-El (uncle, deceased), Alura In-Ze (aunt, deceased), Kara Zor-El (cousin), Karen Starr (clone “cousin”), Lucy Lane (sister-in-law), Sam Lane (father-in-law, deceased).

Group affiliation: Justice League of America

Base of operations: Fortress of Solitude, the Arctic

Height: 6’3”

Weight: 235 lbs.

History:

45 years ago:

Jor-El and Lara send infant Kal-El to Earth to escape the destruction of the planet Krypton.

Kal-El’s rocket is found by Jonathan and Martha Kent near Smallville, Kansas. The Kents adopt him as their own son, naming him Clark.

33 years ago: 12-year-old Clark befriends Lana Lang and Pete Ross.

29 years ago:

16-year-old Clark’s latent Kryptonian abilities including super-strength, flight, and invulnerability begin to emerge, thanks to time spent underneath Earth’s yellow sun. The Kents reveal to him his alien heritage, and he begins doing good in secret.

Clark and Lana begin dating, and Clark reveals the secret of his powers to Lana.

24 years ago: 21-year-old Clark graduates from journalism school at the University of Kansas and sets off to see the world, doing freelance reporting during his travels. Clark and Lana amicably end their relationship.

20 years ago:

25-year-old Clark stops an experimental spacecraft from crashing in front of a crowd of people, and the incident leads him to decide that it’s time to come out from the shadows. Martha fashions a costume for him from his baby blanket, emblazoned with the family crest of the House of El.

Clark moves to Metropolis and gets a job at the Daily Planet as a reporter, meeting reporter Lois Lane, editor Perry White, and intern Jimmy Olsen.

Dubbed “Superman” by the media after saving Daily Planet staff from a helicopter crash, Clark makes his costumed debut while his identity remains a secret.

Superman makes an enemy of billionaire Lex Luthor, who believed him to be an extraterrestrial threat to humanity.

19 years ago:

Superman meets Batman, and the pair team up to solve a series of murders.

Superman has his first encounters with opponents such as Mr. Mxyzptlk, Metallo, Toyman, and Rampage.

Clark and Lois begin dating.

Superman becomes a charter member of the Justice League of America after helping to repel an alien invasion of Earth.

18 years ago: Superman meets the Eradicator, a Kryptonian artificial intelligence dedicated to the preservation of Kryptonian culture and driven to turn Earth into a second Krypton. The Eradicator builds a citadel in the Arctic, which Superman repurposes as his Fortress of Solitude.

17 years ago:

Superman discovers the body of his cousin, Kara Zor-El, in suspended animation, when a rocket similar to the one he arrived in crashes to Earth. Kara takes on his colors and symbol and joins the fight for truth and justice as Supergirl.

Superman first encounters Brainiac, a rogue artificial intelligence from the planet Colu, when one of his probes arrives on Earth in pursuit of Kara’s rocket.

The shrunken Kryptonian city of Kandor is recovered from Brainiac and taken to the Fortress of Solitude.

16 years ago: Superman releases Dru-Zod and Ursa, Kryptonian war criminals, from imprisonment in the Phantom Zone, but is forced to re-imprison them when they attempt to take over Earth and turn it into a new Krypton.

15 years ago: Superman is abducted by Mongul, the ruler of the artifical planet Warworld, and forced to compete in gladiatorial combat. He leads a revolution among the slaves on Warworld, and escapes, forcing Mongul to retreat.

14 years ago: Superman first encounters Darkseid, despotic ruler of the planet Apokolips.

13 years ago: Mongul returns to Earth on Superman’s birthday, attacking him with the parasitic Black Mercy plant and trapping him in a world of his own fantasies.

12 years ago:

In the wake of Checkmate’s offensive on the Justice League, revealed to be a plot by Brainiac, Superman moves to disband the team.

Clark proposes to Lois, revealing to her his secret identity as Superman.

11 years ago:

Superman, along with the rest of Earth’s heroes, fight against the Anti-Monitor. Supergirl perishes in the battle.

Superman encounters Bizarro, an early, flawed result of an attempt to replicate Kryptonian DNA.

9 years ago:

Superman falls in battle against the living weapon Doomsday.

The Eradicator places Superman in a Kryptonian healing matrix hidden within the Fortress of Solitude, restoring him to life after a few months of hibernation.

Clark and Lois are wed.

8 years ago:

Clark and Lois’s son, Jon Kent is born.

Superman comes into conflict with pragmatic vigilante Manchester Black and his Elite.

7 years ago:

Superman fights against the Joker, who had stolen Mr. Mxyzptlk’s powers and twisted the Earth into his own image.

A third Kryptonian rocket crashes on Earth, containing Krypto, a dog-like creature belonging to Jor-El and Lara. Krypto comes to reside at the Fortress of Solitude.

Superman and Earth’s heroes fight against the allied forces of Imperiex, Brainiac, and Darkseid.

5 years ago: After a battle against Lex Luthor, who had given himself Kryptonian powers, Superman loses his powers from heavy exposure to red sunlight and temporarily retires.

4 years ago:

Superman’s powers return, in time for him to foil a new plot from Luthor.

Superman foils an attempt from Brainiac to bottle Metropolis, restoring Kandor to its proper size in the process and locating it in the Arctic. Around the same time, Jonathan Kent passes away of a heart attack.

3 years ago:

After failing to integrate with humanity, the citizens of Kandor use Brainiac’s technology to relocate Kandor to a new planet opposite Earth’s orbit - “New Krypton.”

New Krypton, led by Zod and Ursa, declares war on Earth as the new planet proves to be unstable. Superman and Earth’s heroes drive them off, but not without suffering many losses, which leave Superman as the true last son of Krypton.

2 years ago: The Kent family leaves Metropolis for an extended period of time, taking a trip across America to reconnect with ordinary people. Eventually, they settle down in Hamilton County, Pennsylvania, a rural area west of Metropolis.

1 year ago:

Superman defeats Darkseid, who had returned to Earth in search of the Anti-Life Equation, removing his threat from the universe seemingly for good.

Superman receives a warm welcome back to Metropolis when he’s attacked by Hank Henshaw and his Superman Revenge Squad.

Present Day: Clark helps 8-year-old Jon deal with his sudden development of powers similar to his father’s.

Commentary:

Superman’s origin is so iconic that Grant Morrison summed it up in just eight words: “Doomed planet. Desperate scientists. Last hope. Kindly couple.” In light of this, I see no reason to mess with a good thing. That being said, the story of Superman’s public debut has been retold with major differences four or five times now between the various Crises, and that makes things tricky to pin down.

The version I ended up writing is mostly inspired by Superman: Birthright by Mark Waid. (Sorry, anyone who’s a fan of Clark as Superboy. While I don’t hate the concept, it raises the question of “why doesn’t anyone associate Superboy and thus Superman with Clark?” it doesn’t really bring anything valuable to the table that can’t be put elsewhere in the timeline: the Legion is more associated with Supergirl in this timeline, and Krypto is moved to later on.) His post-Crisis history is mostly intact, although with a few notable omissions, mainly Superman Blue. I hope nobody will miss that too much.

Superman’s history sets the timeline for the rest of the universe - while other heroes’ origins occur before his public debut, he’s the first of the major figures of the Age of Heroes to debut, twenty years prior to the present day. The rest of the Trinity follows within a year of his appearance, along with most of the iconic Silver Age DC heroes. This Superman is forty-five years of age at the current point in the timeline: a seasoned superhero who has saved the world time and time again, but who also lives a simple life as a family man with Lois and Jon.

He may be a Kryptonian by genetics, but at his core, thanks to his upbringing from Ma and Pa Kent, he’s a human - one who happens to have to balance his extraordinary powers and responsibility to the world (wait, is this Spider-Man all of a sudden?) with his alien heritage and the complications derived from such. He’s a champion of the oppressed, standing up for the “little guy” and those who can’t defend themselves against powers both great and small. Out of the Trinity, he best embodies hope - when the situation seems at its most dire, Superman’s the one to keep the faith and rally for one last push. He’s the hero who lands on a rooftop beside someone who’s about to jump and just sits beside them while they make their decision.

As for Superman’s costume, he’s currently sporting the Reborn look, sans trunks. I’m not saying the trunks are outright bad or silly, and envision them as being part of his original costume for certain, but the costume in the header is what he currently uses in this universe.

Have any questions about Superman or anything else? My asks are open!

#superman #clark kent #kal-el #profile #dc #dc comics #earth 53

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muthaz-rapapa · 5 years

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StarPre Ep 29: Planet Saaman, the Frontier (??)

Alternatively, “YEARSH, MOAR LALA!!”

Sooooo many things to discuss about this episode (yay!) as I expected as much with going back to Lala’s homeland.

Therefore, I should go through everything efficiently (ahahaha~).

*cracks knuckles* Let’s begin!

1) Saaman, a world ruled by AI + Lala, the anomaly

I believe by now, most of us have consumed enough media to understand that a utopia run completely by a computer is NOT the ideal world it paints itself to be.

While there are certain perks in efficiency, the lack of freedom, authenticity and most importantly, the limit on a person’s individuality and true potential (among many other things) are so alarmingly concerning that such a reality is not worth it.

However, Saaman is just that. Its citizens not only thrive on their reliance of the AI, they are also super (!!) content with a machine deciding every single aspect of how they live.

Which suggests that Saaman’s current social infrastructure and foundation must have lasted quite long already (probably centuries) for the entire population to rarely, if ever, question the decisions that AI “Mother” made for them.

Save for one. Our lovely Lala-chan.

I mean, can you blame her for not going along with the norm like her family and fellow Saamanians do?

AI Mother’s evaluation of her determined that she was most suited to investigate garbage.

After everything we’ve seen her done, how much she’s experienced and grown on this journey, of course, she can never be satisfied with that!

Lala deserves SO👏MUCH👏 FRIGGIN’👏MORE👏 (give her the galaxy!) than to sit hours upon hours sorting through junk!

Unfortunately, given the longstanding situation and culture of her planet (again, a reminder that the people of Saaman have no problem with this lifestyle), it would be incredibly difficult for anyone to actually voice their opinions of disagreement with Mother’s decisions.

Especially Lala, whose parents are big shots in Saaman and older brother is the poster child/epitome of Saamanian values.

When the majority of your family is so ensconced in societal conventions, it’s not surprising that they would push the “lesser” relative to be more like “everybody else”.

Please don’t make the mistake that this means they don’t love and care about Lala because it doesn’t. It’s so obvious that they worry for her and only want the best for her.

BUT! It’s also obvious that they don’t really know Lala nor can they be considered close to her (she calls her parents by their given names instead of simply “Mom” or “Dad”, for stars’ sake!).

Lala’s family doesn’t understand her or her unhappiness with her assigned role on Saaman. They’re so content with their own jobs that they fail to see anyone else can feel differently about theirs. So the only solution they can think of to “help” Lala is to push her further into it, believing that eventually she’ll become content.

It’s something that happens to a lot of people and perhaps the reason why Lala left Saaman in the first place. She couldn’t exactly rebel so she ran away from the pressure on her spaceship. Maybe she didn’t intend to be away for an extended period of time but still, she left hoping to search for something that Saaman could not, would not, give her.

Then she fatefully bumped into Prunce and Fuwa running away from the Notrayders, met Hikaru, became Precure and the rest was history (or rather, destiny~).

At least, that’s how I see it.

2) Madoka relates

Y’know, at first, I thought Madoka empathizing with Lala’s discomfort was based on their similar upbringings.

Despite how close Lala and Hikaru are with each other, it’s Lala and Madoka who have the most in common out of all the other members of their team and I’ve been waiting for the writers to touch on that for some time now.

From birth or early childhood at the very least, everything was already decided for them. What they will be when they grow up, what their routines will be every single day, what expectations they’re supposed to fulfill, etc.

It’s a suffocating position that doesn’t leave a lot of room for argument and what shaped these two girls into having very detrimental perfectionist outlooks before that changed after meeting Hikaru and becoming Precure.

And now that Lala finds herself under stucky circumstances with her family, unable to enjoy the same openness with them as she does with her friends, I thought Madoka was going to try to encourage Lala not to let that get to her. She’s going through the same thing with her own father, after all, so if anyone can tell Lala’s going through a hard time, it’d be Madoka.

But turns out, that’s not quite the case here as the issue lies with them keeping their Precure identities and duties secret from their families instead.

Which is fine because at least Lala still has someone who can understand her on that.

Anyways, it’s a problem because being the upstanding, honest and serious types they are (majimeko) and both coming from families with high reputations, it’s really difficult for Lala and Madoka to not tell the people who are important to them about another part of their lives that is very important to them.

For Madoka, she feels that she’s betraying her father by hiding the fact that her friends, the very first and truest friends she’s ever made, are either aliens or helping the aliens avoid being caught.

For Lala, she’s torn between her duties as a Saamanian and wanting the acknowledgement of her family and community against the desire the protect her friends from the consequences of acting on the former.

And they are right when they suspect things would probably be worst off if they were to reveal that they are Precure.

Sure, they can probably expect to receive some more substantial support from the officials of their home planet (more from the Starscape Alliance than Earth’s government, sorry Madoka)...but at what cost?

The Star team can operate and travel smoothly throughout space precisely because nobody else is aware of who they really are. If they reveal their identities, there’s no doubt they will be targeted to be controlled.

Because sadly and not to get too political or anything, that’s just what governments do. They have to control the situation, they have to think about the interests of their own countries and more often than not, they extremely suck at it and turn everything into a huge mess (and this is just massively simplifying the general for length).

If they let other people get involved, the team’s balance and even their friendship will likely absolutely be affected and strained because no way will the universe at large care about a bunch of girls getting along as much as they do about using them for its own needs.

Which I’ll get more into on Point #3 below.

But for certain, that’s one of the reasons why Lala and Madoka are unable to tell their families about being Precure.

Yes, it makes them very uncomfortable to keep this huge secret...a secret.

But at the same time, it feels even more wrong to expose it because once that happens, nothing will be the same. Nothing can stay the same.

Even if they avoid all the worse case scenarios, the ones who will definitely suffer the most will still be the girls.

Perhaps that sounds selfish because they’re putting their friends above everything else but it’s not like the Star team isn’t also doing their best to keep the villains at bay while trying to save the universe at the same time. And they’re already doing an exceptional job without anyone breathing down their necks about it.

*cough* Sorry, getting off track a bit.

Anyways, the point is, they’re following their instincts this time which is a BIG deal for people like Lala and Madoka who have tendency to lean more towards logic.

After meeting Hikaru, after letting Hikaru teach them about valuable things they didn’t know before, both Lala and Madoka learned that there is much more to the world than the structures built around them.

Sometimes, the right answer doesn’t lie in the data or the rules, cold and fair in judgement.

Sometimes, simply trusting what you feel is just more correct.

Nobody ever said doing the right thing will be easy (in fact, many times, it never is) but the heart can never lie to you after all. And it’s even more dangerous to ignore it and live through the regrets afterwards.

So which would you choose?

Going with what you feel and doing everything you can to get the best outcome? Or choosing the opposite, knowing that doing so, the best outcome becomes more impossible to achieve and you can only hope for the best of the worse?

Eh..my phrasing isn’t very good but you get what I mean, right?

Anyways, it’s just very meaningful for Madoka to be the one to say these words to Lala.

I wouldn’t say she and Lala have completed their personal journeys yet (we still have like 20 more episodes to go after all) but I do believe that this particular moment marks a very significant point in their arcs.

Having been exposed to more of the world out there beyond their own, they would never go back to being the same Lala and Madoka from the beginning.

They are still unsure about whether their choices will lead them to what they’re looking for but they both know there’s no point in looking back. They can only move forward, trusting in what they feel as right.

Which it will be and not just because this is Precure but because it will leave a very bad taste in my mouth if I wrote all that and the right doesn’t end up prevailing. :P

3) The next step...

I’ll give you a straight up “NOPE!” to that, Pops!

Apologies for letting some of my RL views seep into this post (though can you blame me when it’s been disaster after disaster out there?) but I’m positive that “joining” the Starscape Alliance (their terms, not Precure’s), no matter how well-intentioned they are, will hurt the Star team more than benefit them.

Again, cuz it will allow busybodies to unnecessarily butt into their affairs and make things harder for the girls than they already are.

Moreover...

This is just Lala’s boss being an incompetent ass-for-brains idiot but if the Starscape Alliance is anything like him or even thinks remotely like him, then the Star team coming under their control spells doom for all.

Seriously, this is another level of messed up stupid. They just got terrorized by a flamboyant tengu woman and the person he accuses of trying to steal the Princess pen is Lala?! Even though the wrecked video footage is NOT enough sufficient evidence to point her as an accomplice to Tenjou? Even though Lala’s safely holding onto the pen in the aftermath, is noticeably NOT running away with it and showing concern for her boss?

WHAT THE SERIOUS FUCKING FUCK?!?!

D:<

That said, I hope that in midst of all the chaos of next week’s episode, Lala’s family will at least refuse to believe Lala is a thief and try to find a way to talk to her to know what’s really going on.

Because if they can’t even do that and join the chase to jail their own daughter, then I have another concern to worry about and will immediately fly to Saaman, lay waste to it, take Lala home with me and file to adopt her as my own child (don’t laugh).

But seeing how Lala fought so hard, despite her awkward relationship with her family, to make sure Lolo’s efforts weren’t for nothing, I’m sure it’ll be alright.

Having both her parents and Lolo come to understand Lala would be ideal...but if not, then either one or the other. I’m banking on Lolo atm since he’s her twin but he can be the type who chooses the system over his own kin, too, so...

The screentime we were given just wasn’t enough for me to grasp where each of Lala’s family members stand on their respective relations with her so I can only hope for the best. :/

Ooo, and also, Cancer Star Princess gets revived next week! Yay~! :D

#i gotta go #spent all morning doing this #star twinkle precure #hagoromo lala #kaguya madoka

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sign-from-god-complex · 6 years

Text

A Gift From Me To You - Chapter 1

Summary: It was nothing really. Just a tiny little doodle on his inner wrist—a flower, something resembling a large daisy, but not quite. It wasn’t anything to get worked up over. Except, of course, for the most important fact: Virgil didn’t draw it.

Some people didn't ever get a soulmark, and that was fine. The four of them had, more or less successfully, resigned themselves to living their lives without a soulmate; that was just the way it was and there was nothing they could do about it. Of course, it could never be that simple.

Pairing: LAMP/CALM

Warnings: Brief suicide mention (let me know if there’s anything else I should warn for!)

AO3 link

It was nothing really. Just a tiny little doodle on his inner wrist—a flower, something resembling a large daisy, but not quite. It wasn’t anything to get worked up over. Except, of course, for the most important fact: Virgil didn’t draw it.

Virgil knew about soulmates. Most of the population were lucky enough to be linked to a certain person that was more suited to them than anyone else. The link was expressed through a drawing on their wrist which somehow related to their relationship, called a soulmark. The mark could be anything from music notes, to a shared favourite food, to a brand logo, and it usually showed up when you were around 5 or so years of age, but sometimes it was as late as 10. The link wasn’t intrinsically romantic; a person’s soulmate didn’t have to be their lover and just as commonly ended up being a lifelong best friend instead.

People had theorised for millennia over the origin of soulmarks, but Virgil hadn’t listened or cared. Because when he said, “Most of the population”, he meant the part of the population he wasn’t included in. Virgil didn’t have a soulmate.

Or so he thought.

Virgil frantically searched through his day for some reasoning behind the ink on his skin. Did Remy doodle on him while he wasn’t paying attention in class? Did he press his wrist up against someone else’s drawing that hadn’t dried fully? Did he do it in his sleep?

He was fully aware he was being ridiculous, but when something you’ve believed for your entire life—practically built your life around—turns out to not be true, it’s kind of hard to stay calm. It’s like finding out you’re adopted or finding out Pluto isn’t a planet. It was entirely unprecedented and not entirely unwelcome. So, in the midst of his panic, he called his best friend Remy.

The phone rang a few times before he heard a voice on the other end.

“Wassup?”

Remy sounded slightly groggy, and then Virgil remembered it was 2 am and he’d been just about to go to bed before he noticed the mark. Virgil felt a stab of guilt go through him for waking Remy up from the very little sleep they managed to get. He was being silly, this could have easily waited until the morning, he shouldn’t bother them wi-

“Virge, it’s fine, gurl,” Remy said, interrupting Virgil’s spiralling thoughts, “I can nap in class if I really need the sleep. We both know I don’t understand the lesson either way.”

Remy always seemed to know exactly what Virgil was thinking and managed to cut him off at the pass before he panicked too much. It was one of the reasons they were such good friends, considering how different they were.

Remy was a massive extrovert. They lived for parties and hangouts and though Virgil remained their best friend, it was rare to see Remy without someone else around. Virgil, on the other hand, hated meeting people and kept to himself as best he could. Remy was pretty much his only friend—although he had acquaintances that he liked, he didn’t feel as comfortable around them as he did around Remy. No matter how annoying they were sometimes.

Honestly, if Virgil hadn’t known Remy already had a soulmate, he would have claimed they were the source of Virgil’s mark.

Virgil cleared his throat, “Rem, you didn’t, like, doodle on me in class or anything, did you?”

His voice shook a little due to all the emotions that were rushing through him right now. Virgil could hear Remy’s confusion through the phone.

“No? What’s going on, Virge? You’re worrying me.”

“Cause, I, uh-”

Preparing to tell Remy about his mark, he glanced down at his wrist briefly and his breath caught in his throat.

His soulmark had changed.

What was once the outline of a simple flower had become a small bouquet. On his wrist were about half a dozen daisy-like flowers, all in shades of blue, purple and red, and tied up neatly in a golden bow. It was gorgeous, bright and shining and more than he deserved.

He heard Remy calling his name through the haze that had descended upon him.

“Virgil, I swear to god, do not make me come over there and kick your-”

“Sorry, Remy,” Virgil replied, “I just… I think I have a soulmark.”

There was a good 5 seconds of silence before Remy spoke up again.

“What?”

They sounded completely baffled, like this was the very last thing they had been expecting Virgil to say, which was completely justified. People didn’t just get soulmarks. Virgil was 17, the time for him to develop a soulmark had long since passed. It was entirely unheard of…

And yet.

“Are you… are you sure, Virge? Like, it couldn’t just be a prank or something?”

Remy sounded hesitant to suggest that Virgil’s supposed soulmark could be anything but genuine. Making fun of someone for not having a mark was hugely cruel, but, of course, it happened anyway. Virgil had definitely gone through his fair share of bullying due to his lack of a soulmark, and therefore, his lack of a soulmate. But, unless the person pranking him was entirely incorporeal and able to wipe his skin completely clean and draw something new without him noticing (highly, highly unlikely, but technically not impossible), there’s no way this could be a prank.

“No, it changed, Remy. It, uh, it’s different now than it was when I called you.”

A beat.

“Oh, well that’s…” Remy took a deep breath, “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Clearly, neither of them had any idea what to do in this situation.

“This is a good thing, right?” Remy sounded unsure.

Soulmates were something Virgil had always been kind of cynical about, but mostly that came from the culture surrounding it. It hurt, being left out of something that people seemed so excited about. Soulmates dominated almost every form of media and whenever a character didn’t have a soulmark it was always a weird point of tension. Usually, these characters were robots or aliens or just plain “weird”.

Truly though, Virgil hadn’t longed for a soulmark, he’d longed for a change in the culture. He hadn’t thought of himself as weird or broken, no matter what bullies at school would say. He realised there was a percentage of the population who just didn’t have the same experiences as the rest, but just because they’re small doesn’t mean they’re less important. He’d built his identity around the belief that he didn’t need to have a soulmark to be worthy or deserving of love of any kind. So, getting one… left a lot for him to process.

He chuckled lightly, “I’m not sure? I think so? I… don’t know what I feel right now.”

“That’s… that’s fair.”

There were a few more moments where neither of them said anything, just thinking, before Virgil stirred into motion.

“We can talk about this more at school tomorrow, Rem, yeah? I think it would be best if we both got some sleep.”

A yawn was heard from Remy at the mention of sleep and Virgil’s mouth quirked up at the corners slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sounds good,” they replied and Virgil could hear the sound of rustling blankets as Remy moved further back under the covers, “Goodnight, Virge.”

“Goodnight, Rem.”

-------------------------

Roman had noticed his soulmark almost the second it had appeared. He’d spent the evening running lines with some of his friends in the drama club, as they were coming up on their performance of Anything Goes, and Roman had been cast as the male lead.

The auditorium had long since been closed and so the small group had retired to Roman’s house to continue practising. Roman had insisted his parents wouldn’t mind, after all, they weren’t likely to be home anyway.

They’d been running through You’re The Top when Roman had glanced down at his script to clarify a line and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Roman?” Valerie questioned, “It’s your line, dude.”

Roman didn’t reply, his eyes fixated on his wrist where a small doodle of a flower sat. Where did it come from? He was quite sure it hadn’t been there before, he would have noticed it! Wouldn’t he? His world was swirling with so many emotions he almost felt he had to sit down. But first, he turned to Valerie.

“Did you draw this?”

His voice was calm, too calm for the situation. His acting skills were kicking into high gear, assisting him in keeping his emotions under wraps for just a moment longer.

“What? Roman, I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Valerie replied.

She didn’t, of course. Roman knew Valerie would never do something so cruel to him. Valerie was the Reno to his Billy, both for the purposes of the musical and also in real life. They were excellent friends and any romantic feelings either of them may have had at one point or another was put into the past long ago, as they both had someone they loved now.

Valerie knew his lack of a soulmark was a touchy subject. Roman was a romantic at heart, that was clear to see within one interaction with him. As soon as he’d learned about the concept of soulmates at 4 years old, Roman had been obsessed with the idea that there was a perfect person out there for him. Out there in the great wide world, there was a person who understood him better than anyone else ever could and they didn’t even know him yet. It was intoxicating, believing that you’re loved at your core from the moment you’re born, waiting for them to show themselves.

So of course, Roman’s 5th birthday went by without a soulmark. And then his 6th, and his 7th and his 8th. By the time his 11th birthday came he thought maybe his soulmark was just a little late, but when he reached his 12th birthday he’d finally given up hope. He’d locked himself away in his room for over a week, sobbing and screaming about how it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! He deserved to be loved like that! Why wasn’t he good enough?

Roman had moved past the immediate rejection he had felt, but to this day he still felt a pang of sadness every time he watched a romance movie or saw couples in public holding hands and laughing, matching soulmarks on display. He knew he didn’t have to have a soulmark to have love, but… sometimes he forgot.

Roman’s eyes filled with tears as he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. He spun around to glare at the other cast members in the room, his face stormy. He thrust his wrist out towards them.

“Did one of you do this?!” he yelled, his voice almost breaking, “This isn’t funny! Did you do this?!”

The rest of the cast shook their heads frantically, looking slightly terrified by Roman’s demeanour. Though he may be a drama queen, none of them had ever seen him quite like this. This wasn’t drama, this was pain.

Roman was… well, he wasn’t sure what he was about to do, but he was about to do something, except he was interrupted. Another cast member, Terrence, pointed to his wrist and said, “Roman…”

Roman pulled his wrist back to look at it again, the little doodle of a flower still ingrained in his mind, except… this wasn’t a little doodle. This wasn’t what he’d seen at all. It had changed.

And the bottom dropped out from under him and he was falling.

He sobbed the same way he had 5 years ago, completely unabashed and totally lost. And amidst all the despair and confusion, there was hope rising in his chest. Hope that he’d let go of so long ago, hope that maybe, there was a perfect person for him, hope that maybe he was loved after all.

And so with Valerie wrapping her arms around Roman’s shaking form…

Roman broke.

-------------------------

Patton was woken up by a call from his boyfriend. Quickly wiping the sleep out of his eyes, he scrambled to grab his phone from the nightstand and answer it before it rang through.

“Heya, Ro,” he mumbled, still not quite awake.

A quick glance at his clock revealed it to be 4 in the morning, which was slightly concerning. Although Roman didn’t answer to any kind of sleeping schedule, he didn’t usually call Patton during the night. Pat would often wake up to an array of texts about anything from the cool bird he saw to how much he loved him, but calls were reserved for more immediate problems and never past 11 pm. He hoped everything was alright.

A closer listen indicated things may very well not be alright. Roman’s breathing was kind of unsteady and Patton could hear sniffing like he’d been crying. He immediately shot up straight in his bed, turning on the bedside lamp to wake him up a bit.

“Ro? Love, are you alright? What’s going on? Do you need me to come and get you?”

A laugh was heard from Roman, though it was slightly watery and quiet.

“No, mi corazón, I- I just need you to do me a favour, okay?"

Patton nodded, before realising Roman couldn’t see him.

“Yeah, okay, Ro. What is it?”

“Can you just… just look down at your wrist?”

Patton sighed.

“Ro, we’ve talked about this…”

Patton knew his boyfriend got insecure about their lack of soulmarks. It was something he’d confessed to after Patton had confronted him over dropping his hand when in public. At the time it had hurt; it had made him feel like he was some dirty little secret or that Ro was ashamed of him. After Roman had admitted what was truly going on, though, all Patton wanted to do was swaddle him up in a blanket and kiss him until he realised how much he was loved.

Patton had been raised by four loving parents who didn’t all share a soulmark. Their relationship was complicated, Patton knew, but he also knew that it was wonderful. As far as he was concerned, soulmates were a building block, a foundation. They may give you a place to start, a place to call home when you’re unsure about where to go, but you can build those things for yourself! You can build a foundation and you can build a home, with a family—or a found family—there to stay by your side.

A soulmate may be an important relationship you have, but it shouldn’t be the only important relationship you have, and not having a soulmate just meant having to form more important relationships by yourself. It doesn’t make you any less deserving of love, it just means you have to do the work yourself to find it.

He’d talked to Roman about this quite a few times when he was feeling particularly down about his lack of soulmark, and he’d really seemed like he was moving forward. So this request felt like 3 steps backwards.

“No, Patton, please. Just… do this for me. Please.”

Roman sounded like he was on the edge of breaking apart, so Patton agreed, looking down at his wrists in the lamplight and…

Oh.

His breath left him in one big rush. There, on his wrist, was a beautiful drawing of a bouquet of flowers. A drawing, he surely did not do. He rotated his wrist back and forth, watching mesmerised as the colours shimmered.

“Ro…” Patton whispered, voice breathless, “How did you… ”

“Do you have one too? Patton, I-” his words were coming out shaky now, rushed and teary, “I didn't understand and I thought it was a joke but I just had to know and I-”

Patton pulled the covers back and rushed to stand up, grabbing his keys from off his chest of drawers.

“Roman, where are you?”

He didn’t even bother changing out of his pyjamas, just stuffed his feet into his sneakers and carefully crept down the stairs. He knows that if one of his parents caught him they would still let him go, but they would insist on driving him there and would probably ask for some kind of explanation. An explanation Patton didn’t have.

“I’m at th-the park, near my house,” Roman managed to get out through his increasingly quick breaths, “I just, I had a breakdown in front of everyone and I needed to think and I can’t-”

“You’re alright, sweetheart, you’re fine. Just breathe. I’ll be there in 5, okay?”

After an answering okay from Roman, Patton hung up the call. He quickly scribbled down a note to leave on the kitchen counter just in case one of his parents woke up to find him missing, before he rushed out to the car and started the drive to the park.

With all his worrying over Roman, Patton had barely had time to examine his own feelings on the situation. It was clear Roman had spontaneously gained a soulmark too, and considering the odds that more than two people would mysteriously gain a soulmark in one night, Patton assumed they were matching. Which was… wow. That was amazing.

He loved Roman, he knew that already. It hadn’t mattered to him in the slightest that neither of them had a soulmark, but he knew this was something Ro worried about. Once he got past the mess of this evening, Patton was happy that Roman would be a little bit more sure that Patton truly did love him. It did, of course, raise the question of why and how they’d even gained these soulmarks, but that wasn’t for Patton to worry about. Right now, he just had to focus on driving and getting to his boyfriend.

-------------------------

Logan hadn’t noticed the mark until later that day, considering he followed something resembling a sleep schedule.

To Logan, this had begun simply as any other day would. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, got changed and went downstairs to make breakfast. It was all done on autopilot, a morning routine that he’d gone through so many times he didn’t even have to think about it anymore. Until he tried to start breakfast.

He placed the bread in the toaster and then searched around for a moment, trying to find his Crofters. His Dad loved to hide the jars so that he could steal them himself. Logan had told him many times that he was the adult who was supplying him with the Crofters and if he wanted some he could just buy more. His Dad responded by saying that things just tasted better when they were stolen, to which Logan would roll his eyes and take the jelly to begin his meal.

After opening a few cupboards, Logan could see his jar on the top shelf, barely hidden behind a box of cereal. Logan was just tall enough to reach it, standing on his tip-toes and stretching out. He almost had it when something caught his eye.

His long-sleeved black button up was beginning to get slightly too small, so as he stretched the sleeves didn’t quite reach the end of his arms. And there, peaking out of the fabric, was something colourful on his wrist. Momentarily forgetting his Crofters, he pulled his sleeve back to get a closer look and stared in shock and awe at what he found. If you had gotten close enough to him, you may have had heard him make a whirring sound, akin to a computer that’s been given input it doesn’t understand.

He had a soulmark. He had… a soulmark. He had- fuck.

This went against everything he’d believed about himself for years.

Logan didn’t do emotions. He was logical, and there was nothing logical about emotions. Emotions were subjective and messy and caused more trouble than they were worth. His friends had often tried to convince him by pointing out all the positive emotions you can experience as well—things like love and joy and comfort and excitement, and sure. Those things weren’t unpleasant to experience, but they didn’t make up for all the negative emotions—the things like sadness and pain and grief and heartache and longing.

Emotions like those were what took his mother away from him before he was barely old enough to understand what it meant. Emotions like those are what forced Logan to have dial 911 to tell them his father wasn’t breathing and he didn’t understand why and he didn’t know what to do and if he loses him he’d lose all he had left.

Emotions were… too much.

No. Soulmates were nothing more than a fantastical idea to promote heartbreak and pain, and Logan didn’t need that.

But it seemed the universe disagreed.

In a barely lucid state, Logan walked over to the medicine cabinet and grabbed out some bandages, wrapping them around his arm. If anyone asked, he could just say he’d strained it from typing too much. Luckily, he was ambidextrous, so writing with his right hand wouldn’t be so difficult. It wouldn’t work forever, but it would work until he found a more permanent solution.

So Logan returned to his breakfast, spreading Crofters on his toast and finishing preparing for the day.

A day like any other.

-------------------------

Chapter 2

#I've been working on this fic for what feels like months #which is possibly longer than I've ever worked on anything in my life #so I'm highkey terrified to post this #but here it is!#sanders sides #sanders side fic #lamp/calm #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts sleep #lo can write

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