#rant over sorry; this fandom has done great things for me but it’s also just been hard being in it due to people like this

[akirameta84]

i ship a LOT of saiki ships but ironically one of the most popular ones isnt on that list: torisai. its not that much of an exaggeration, especially on the tumblr fandom. its very popular lmfao

i just...dont see it. i think its because i dont like toritsuka enough. hes great, dont get me wrong, hes gonna have decently large roles in three of my longfics if two of em ever get to his (since hes in chap 1 of another) but...i dont see it. ive never seen it. and i feel like the only person in the fandom who doesnt lmfao

please dont try and convince me or anything, it wont work. ive tried to see it. but i dont. toritsuka and saiki just flat out dont mesh at all romantically for me. and part of it is because toritsuka is also just pretty gross

did he get better? yes. but he was a pervert at the start. he's done disgusting things. he has actively peeped on girls using ghosts. not even just wanted to. idk if the anime had it, but he definitely has suceeded in stuff like learning about their underwear in the manga.

and when he saw saiki as a girl his first thought was about saikis fucking boobs. thats disgusting. he said it out loud. it wouldve been okay if it was just a thought, that cant be controlled, but it wasnt. he said it

hes gotten better. i think post canon he has potential to be even better, because we havent seen much of how hes changed after the cat tank, honestly. but part of it is because i dont care to explore post canon scenarios with specifically toritsuka so i dont consider him past canon, rip. he has a good place in my heart because i do like him a lot, but at the same time...he just. doesn't go with saiki for me. at all.

mini rant over, sorry. i love seeing the art and stuff though

edit: i do feel like they have a decent sibling relationship, though, lol. i actually think on reflection that part of the reason i dont ship it is because they seem like brothers to me if anything

#am i the only one?? torisai is so popular haha #i dont hate it or even dislike i just dont understand jt #it* #saiki k

[lovecanbesostrange]

ouattober2023 Day 6: Fav Rarepair

Red Warrior (aka Mulan Rouge, fandom, it was right there, come on)

The gif speaks for itself already, Do I need to say more? No. Will I? Absolutely.

Back in S2 I was very happy. I had Sleeping Warrior to ship and also Red Beauty. Two good ships. But over the years there was the question "what if Mulan and Ruby ever met?". It seemed like a fun constellation. The honorable warrior, serious, focused, happily doing her duty. And the werewolf waitress who effortlessly talks to people, who can be mean if need be (and the full moon is out). Imagine Ruby showing Mulan around Storybrooke. She'd have her start her own gym so fast. (After being teased for so long, somebody should have taken Mulan to Storybrooke and let her watch a film already.)

I watched S5 spoiler free. No promos. It's fun. But there is always the guest cast list and seeing the names Jamie Chung and Meghan Ory when The Bear King started? EXCITEMENT! I was then mesmerized by the Mulan&Merida scenes, I almost forgot I was waiting to see Ruby again. And oh boy, THE WOLF! Once again foiled with magic, but that was okay. When Mulan arrives at the Witch's Hut next? A different kind of magic happening indeed...

Meet Cute noun; (in a film or television programme) an amusing or charming first encounter between two characters that leads to the development of a romantic relationship between them.

Yep, I'd say Mulan almost getting attacked saying "you're not a wolf" with a big smile "you just need a little help remembering who you are", then splashing that potion to reveal Ruby, now sorta sitting above her? Perfect meet cute you can talk about for ages. It calls back a pivotal point from Mulan's past and we get to see a mostly decent CGI wolf (in broad daylight). Especially because we know that Red has killed people before and it's so unclear how much control she has, what exactly the Witch has done to her, ending it with her all smiling as well, is great. Of course I have to cry about "My name's Ruby. My friends call me Red." (Sorry, Mulan should have called her Red later on, to hammer that home.)

Mulan has hearteyes from the get-go, Ruby sits there panting. Frame this and put it in a museum. A clashing meeting that is definitely cute. I mean, there's a sword and fur involved.

It's funny how Mulan forgets to even introduce herself and Ruby has to ask her name later on (because suddenly it's night, how long did they sit like that?). And for somebody who likes to overanalyze it's hilarious how they do manage that Mulan mentions Aurora - with the sad music swelling in the background, to remind us all how their last meeting went - and then we cut to Ruby saying goodbye to Snow. In my mind a good reason this pairing works is, that they can get drunk together and lament how terribly in love they both once were with a princess. It's a fun thing to bond over.

Mulan is clearly the rare holder of the braincell, she also brings in a lot of training, so a good fighting form. Ruby is the muscle, but especially for the EF she has a special kind of wit thanks to the curse!persona. The Bear King allowed us to see a darker side of Mulan, hitting rock bottom, being selfish and looking for a fight.So Ruby is a great person to have her enjoy life and find a balance between duty and fun. This is kinda the promise at the end of the ep, finding a path for Mulan, while Ruby searches werewolves.

Obligatory Doylian rant: Red Warrior was the plan. Whatever you wanna say about the writers, they knew this episode was a romantic set-up. There was a cryptic tweet, some drama and so it's all speculative, but I have made my peace that this came down to studio interference. The live action Mulan film was in the works already, it was coming, Mulan is an official big Disney princess and even though everybody with a bit of media literacy understood that Mulan was very much in love with Aurora, there was this plausible deniability and she wasn't like... that gay. Oh no. And this is why Dorothy got squeezed in, Mulan left with nothing. Clearly not what was promised to Jamie Chung. I have no proof, but it is the best explanation how we went from The Bear King to Ruby Slippers (zero hate for that episode or the Red Kansas ship!!).

I want to know what kind of adventures they had together. How did they go about this search? Any rumors about wolves? The maddening thing is how they managed to end up in Oz at all. I know there's a mysterious BTS pic for the ep. But nevermind, what we do get in the beginning is a duo with a routine, complete with a badass back-to-back protective stance. I always pictured them together in Storybrooke, Ruby showing Mulan around. But I guess what I needed was them out in the woods alone, traveling realms and kicking ass (I'm a simple girl, with simple needs).

Two wonderful interactions at the end of TBK are when the Witch arrives at the coronation. Ruby is ready to go on the offense, but Mulan holds her back. Just a few frames, but it's perfect. And then there's their little banter Ruby: "I might not be the best person to ask for dating advice. I kind of ate the only boyfriend I've ever had." Mulan: "Yes, that disqualifies you." [...] Ruby: "It's better than wallowing in self-pity." Mulan: "I don't wallow!"

THEY ARE ALREADY PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER! Endless teasing and running head first into enemies (don't worry, Mulan has a plan; Ruby dramatically takes off her cloak... sometimes even when there is no wolf moon, just to distract enemies).

#ouattober2023 #Red Warrior #Mulan Rouge #Ruby Lucas #OUaT Mulan #I shipped them before they even met - I flew too close to the sun with this

[bylerjancytruther]

hi! sorry for ranting in ur inbox but you do say you're a jonathan byers stan soo....does it ever make you mad that the GA and the fandom reduces jonathan's character to taking the pictures in episode two??

never mind the fact that he's grown over four seasons since then and hasn't done a single shitty thing like that again. never mind that he's been the rock of the byers family for years and years after lonnie left and loves them so much that he would give up going to college to be there for them. never mind that he's been an incredible brother to will for will's whole life and canonically accepts him and loves him for who he is. never mind anything that makes jonathan great, the fandom just has to reduce him to one poor action.

and it's never the other characters either. as much as i love steve, he was a serious asshole in s1, but he grew and changed and the fandom loves him for it. they acknowledged steve's character development and celebrated him for it. but not jonathan - it's only jonathan that is forever held to his mistakes and is never allowed the space to grow :(

no, you’re perfectly fine! believe me, i’ll never pass up an opportunity to defend jonathan byers lol.

if i’m being completely honest, yeah. it’s one of the things that annoys me most about this fandom. jonathan made one mistake in season one that he apologized for and continued to learn from whereas steve made mistakes as well and never apologized yet according to the GA, he’s redeemable but jonathan isn’t?

listen, i will be the first person to admit that what jonathan did in season one was creepy but like i said, he apologized and nancy forgave him. beyond that, it’s not really our decision to hold that grudge against him. you’re allowed to not like a character but if this one action is the one thing that you continue to hold over his head, then you’re a lost cause.

i’ll never hide the fact that i’m not the biggest fan of steve but some steve stans get on my nerves when it comes to jonathan. a lot of these people go around unironically saying “mommy steve 🥺” all the time or cracking jokes about how steve got his “6 little nuggets” yet they refuse to acknowledge the very real fact that jonathan raised will. jonathan is and always will be more of a father figure to will than lonnie ever has been. jonathan was the boy who while in high school, got up in the morning to make sure his little brother got breakfast. worked extra long shifts to help his mom pay the bills. checked the trunk of his fathers car for his brother. he was left to plan wills funeral on his own at the age of 16. it seems that because jonathan isn’t conventionally attractive or friends with a random child or an asshole, everybody overlooks everything he had to go through before the show even started. it’s not fair that every other character is allowed room to grow and embrace their character development but he isn’t…

i’d also like to add on that jonathan is an 18 year boy who had to deal with all of the previous stuff i mentioned on top of supernatural activities in his hometown and a long distance relationship. let the kid smoke weed and deal with his trauma his own way. thank you.

anyways, i’m sorry for ranting the way that i did. i just love jonathan sm.

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #jonathan byers #jancy #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #jargyle #stonathon

[wutheringskies]

"Well, personally, I don't think MDZS characters are on the spectrum?"

oh. not even Lan Zhan? (or Song Lan?) I'm autistic and it's genuinely impossible for me to not read him that way. Especially the part where your personal morals clash with the chaos and messiness of the outside world. He's my favorite because I felt his journey and growth as a character deep in my soul. Idk about other autistic people but to me it was always the most painful thing: holding on to my values while trying to be more flexible and not attacking people or cutting them off for minor offenses. Over the course of the story,Lan Zhan manages to mature,understand Wei Ying better,and become more flexible without becoming disillusioned or passive,so he's really an ideal in that sense.

Sorry,I ranted too much again

"No wonder why Jiang Yanli, though a little more aware due to her sex and standing, gives the same vibes? like a sort of lost, good, kind vibe?"

Yes! yes! Those are exactly the vibes. I was just joking to someone a while ago that both Lan Zhan and Wei Ying have been raised by the exact same older sibling figure. Honesly that puts Yanli and Xichen's achievements in perspective,cause they both encouraged or allowed their younger siblings to be idealistic and righteous,instead of stifling those impulses,which is a choice and a great thing.

And yes,unlike Lan Xichen,Jiang Yanli is that passive mostly because of her status and sex. And because of being traumatized by a horrible abusive narc mom.

They should have been allowed to have like a soup and flute club together every sunday or something. The friendship would have done them good. (Maybe let Wen Ning join too)

Anyway,thank you for replying! It was fun talking to you!

Hey! I'm really sorry for not seeing this before. I forgot to open my inbox.

Yes, I personally do not perceive MDZS characters on the spectrum. There are two reasons for this - firstly, Lan Zhan's character is very well written. Personally, I did not feel the need to enhance him. I think you can call me a bit of 'canon purist,' that is, I derive most pleasure from improving my understanding of a literary work to be as close as possible to authorial intent (I am of course, open to divergences, enhancements, and all sorts of stuff. But if we go by my 'default' setting, it is this.)

Secondly, I would count as a neurotypical person. I think you'd agree that in many fandoms, the 'quiet' or 'just a little bit weird' person, as well as the cheery, energetic person are often immediately headcanonned as neurodivergent. Thus, I guess I felt like doing so to Lan Zhan etc might be me leaning heavily into stereotypes! In my personal experience, my close cousins - though diagnosed similarly on the spectrum, had extremely varying thinking processes.

However, it is enlightening to know more about why you characterized him as such - especially about becoming more comfortable in his skin. Lan Zhan is also my favourite character, though for different reasons. I can relate to his desire to perform each task with excellence, preference for quietude, and struggle with his dominant orientation. How he tried his hardest to be a liberal, before becoming radicalized. The struggle of being someone who respects traditional and societal values, but has his own strong personal ideals, morality and desires that cannot co-exist with them :( It's tragic how he wished to protect the one he loved, tried but wasn't good at expressing himself, wasn't powerful enough to guarantee peace, wasn't politically smart enough to change things, wasn't strong enough to fight the whole world for him, and eventually, he was even unwanted by his lover, who was hurt by him. Thus, exiled by love and punished by his clan, he really had nothing to look forward to. Yet, he choose to rise up, day after day and make the differences he could make.

I think his persistence and his healing is the most impressive thing about him for me. How he was inadequate but then, became someone who could protect Wei Ying.

There's no need to apologize! I quite love your takes and rants. (PS - please don't take my stating I am a canon purist as a form of discouraging thought. That is only for my personal satisfaction!)

I totally agree. I wish to add Xiao XIngchen to this club. In a highly tense political environment, these characters were adorably in need of some splash painting and crafts sessions. I'd love to put all of them together in some club in a Modern AU. Jiang Yanli will cook, Lan Xichen will paint and play sad, and funky melodies, Wen Ning will help and Xiao Xingchen will laugh at everything.

#my ask #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #lan wangji #lan xichen

[mrburnsnuclearpussy]

Long post ahead sorry!

I’m rewatching season 3, nearly finished (on the cricket ep), and omg Carson’s part in the whole Barrow situation is literally an entirely different story from the one ppl online would have you believe 🙄 like I already knew some ppl were biased against Carson but damn, based on the way ppl talk about it I had a totally incorrect memory of what happened. I thought it was so much worse that it even was. Carson had his conservative homophobic Victorian beliefs (just like all his beliefs tbh, although not the point I know), but it never made him unkind in his actions towards Thomas apart from his harsh speech about it and that’s LITERALLY it. Because when it came to it, he did what he could to protect Thomas. He pitied Thomas rather than blamed him, even defended Thomas to Jimmy, was so disgusted by Jimmy’s threat to tell the police and did the only thing he could do in that situation to prevent Thomas from going to JAIL, which was largely for Thomas’s sake and not just the families’, (like even if it wouldn’t reflect on the family either way, it’s still clear that Carson would never want Thomas to go to prison and done what he could to prevent it, he was treating him fairly (Thomas was leaving anyway and his plan was good) with a good reference until Jimmy threatened to turn Thomas in)

And let me make this crystal clear that I’m not saying Carson is great about it either! Just that he’s no where NEAR the awful bully that this fandom would have you believe.

And yet ppl write fanfiction and posts where Carson is this big antagonist in Thomas’s life (not, yknow, the actual antagonist: O’Brien) and that he ‘has it out’ for Thomas (he literally doesn’t, like show me where? At the very WORST moments, he simply is done with Thomas and wants him out his hair, which is, hello, exactly what almost every other character who knew Thomas has also been like at at least some point! But I don’t see ppl anyone else in this way. It’s only Carson, for SOME reason?!)

There’s a complete misunderstanding of Carson’s character in these interpretations, Carson never ‘has it out’ for anyone, it’s just not his personality, totally OOC. He is such a straightforward character: he is entirely dedicated to the Crawley family, their well-being and their house, and almost all his motivation for anything he does is out of a sense of duty or principle. That’s it, that’s like the whole character, it’s a pretty simple character, and yet ppl manage to misinterpret that so badly they’ll have him specifically out to hurt Thomas because they need someone to serve that role in the Thomas content (and I’m not complaining about that sort of content at all like same I do that too! I just wish it wasn’t Carson specifically that always gets made into the antagonist role for Thomas, it just seems so unfair to me, and upsets me because Carson is my fave if you hadn’t guessed yet lol)

Anyway rant over! Sorry for the rambling I just need to scream abt this

#Downton abbey #Charles Carson #Thomas barrow

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

So,

I’d like to talk about Zero. Major Zero. Just as I threatened said, I would. Zero absolutely fascinates me on so many levels.

My headcanon essays aren’t rants. I do want to make that clear. I write them because I adore these characters. The good, the bad, the confusing, and all the messes in between. If nothing else, these can all largely be summed up as: LOOK HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS. LOOK HOW MUCH FUN I’M HAVING.

Anyway.

Given that every MGS character gives me an ungodly amount of brain worms, that’s not hard. It’d be so easy to say he’s ‘a well done villain’ and leave it. But I’m the sort of person who sorta treats MGS characters like this, even the most mindlessly evil ones.

Because to me personally, I see them as complicated in motivation, in personality. They are not good people *save a genuine handful throughout the series*. I don’t believe they were written, nor intended to be, and I genuinely appreciate them in all their grey and black glory. I like that you aren’t hand-fed characters personalities, that they change and alter over time the way people would adapt to their situations, their worlds. And that at the end of the day, their war criminals in a war machine and (save for maybe Huey) willing to admit or at the very least somewhat understand.

(I’d also note that a story protagonist does not have to be a good, nor innocent person, but I already think that MGS handles that perfectly well in general) Regardless, my focus here is still on Major Zero. Who I think managed to end up being one of the most terrifying characters in the series. Which is saying a lot, considering the rooster of people we’re dealing with. Also pretty impressive considering the man is essentially comatose after 1976. Right up until Big Boss pulls his life support in 2014.

But that doesn’t negate the system he created, the projects he invented, and the intense sway he had over both people, and information for decades before that. It’s also worth considering that he was working with people like, Skull Face. Sure, Zero makes some claims about not knowing how off the rails or dangerous Skull Face was, but I’d also like to point out that the Vocal Chord Parasite wasn’t originally Skull Face’s creation.

It was Zero’s. Or, to be more specific, the will of his predecessors.

Essentially, Skull Face ended up taking an already pre-existing entity his superiors had created, and turned it into a beast beyond which they’d comprehended themselves. Skull Face also poisons Zero around this time with the fake pin badge. Something disguised as a gift, as Zero’s paranoia had him in deep hiding himself. (All messages via cut out, after all).

In the MGS Fandom Wiki, Cipher is defined as follows:

Cipher is responsible, in series for the following:

Les Enfants Terribles

Peace Walker

Ground Zeroes (I will note here that this was not Zero himself, but Skull Face after having gone rogue. Any incidence after that had nothing to do with Zero himself, I’ll note them only for the specifics of the organization at large)

The Phantom Pain (Vocal Chord Parasite, Attempted Annihilation/Genocide of Humans via biochemical warfare)

And by the 2000′s, Cipher is largely AI controlled alone.

Zero’s real specialty is in controlling information, I pointed it out here, but I want to go into much more detail in this post. Because while it might not seem like much, there’s a great deal of implication to information control, and it has a very real component in society today. There is no stretch to believe governments can control information, and while MGS is fictional, the things Zero does certainly have some real world basis.

He covers up the Ground Zero’s attack, and freely admits not everyone bought the story. (Sorry for using links here it’s too easy to hit image limit on this website). When speaking in the tapes to Skull Face, he’s fairly candid since, at this point, he trusts Skull Face as his XO and we get some general insight into how he views people and their own beliefs.

There’s a quiet arrogance to this statement I personally can’t fathom, but can imagine someone who truly believes himself in a position where he’s got people all figured out. Seems to believe that the world operates on a hive-mind that he can feed provided he and his network are in charge of that hive mind.

Now, I don’t feel like Cipher’s desire to unite the world is inherently a bad thing. A world where we are all equal, regardless of country, birth, status, race, sexuality. In this Zero is not so different from others. The MSF, Diamond Dogs, FoxHound. All of these entities surpass the ideology of nations being borders, and take people as people.

Where it gets out of hand and out of control (much as Big Boss himself would later in life with the concept of Outer Heaven) is that in Zero’s perfect world, someone is still in charge. People are told what to do, how to think, how to behave and how to operate. So people are united under a single banner, but that banner has people like Zero at the helm, and within that helm, are a bunch of suppressed people without free will.

THAT is where the issue arises. Interestingly enough, I don’t know if I can cast Zero in the light as some power-hungry dictator. What makes Zero so complicated (and by extension so scary) is his desire isn’t driven because he wants people bowing and kowtowing at his feet, but because he seems to honestly, genuinely believe he’s doing what the Boss wanted. Because, as it is with Big Boss, Zero seems to have held some mild obsession with her (and his own obsession with Big Boss), to have her dream carried out. Even though, much like Big Boss, Zero misunderstood it entirely.

It’s also telling that, for as immoral as Ocelot is, and as ruthless, there is one distinction he can make from Zero. Ocelot, fundamentally understands and even seems to value that people are people.

That machines breed nothing but trouble in the long run if they are going to think FOR you. (MGS4 turns a lot of this into a more muddled mess, but that’s a different post and more complicated than I can sum up here, but I still believe Ocelot was intentionally bringing down the system in MGS4, so, anyway).

For all Zero’s talk, his desires, he seems to fail to recognize that humans are going to be humans. Messy, complicated. Confusing. Does Zero over simply humans? Hard to say. But I don’t think he values them very much.

Like Ocelot, however, this is also something Skull Face understands as well.

Skull Face.

Something something “worst person you know made a good point’ meme here.

Because whether Zero likes it or not, people are going to think for themselves. In a larger scale, that is part of what separates humans from animals. We have the brain power, the capacity, to think and behave for ourselves.

Humans do appreciate structure, but they do not appreciate that structure being mitigated by someone who denotes himself as being able to speak for others. Because in the end, what gave Zero that right? It isn’t like the Boss said, “Here, Zero, carry out my legacy.” he apparently came to these conclusions, these decisions, on his own.

There’s something so strange about Zero’s world view. He wants, essentially, to end individualism entirely. Blank faces, blank slates. Utterly meaningless. A gathering of NPC’s. And that will somehow bring the world peace. Again, uniting people is not a bad thing, but people can be united AND have free will. and their own individualism.

I mentioned it in my Les Enfants Terribles post, but again, I’ll expand here. Going on what was said above, Zero seems to have little regard for people overall. But he’s not nearly as docile as he presents himself. He speaks in an even, cordial tone that’s very symbolic of the ‘classic British upper crust’ that became stereotypical of British elites at one time or another, but he makes it very clear that the politeness only goes so far.

He’s incredibly manipulative, to start with. But what makes that fascinating to me is it’s subtly. A lot of what Zero says has a thinly-veiled threat behind it reminding you that for all his posh words and hand-painted tea cups, he’s a combat vet (SAS), an intelligence agent, and intellectually on the same level of manipulation as Ocelot.

See this post for the Ocelot tapes. (I’m already running out of image limits here)

How many people can genuinely claim, within the series, to be able to manipulate, much less threaten, Ocelot?

Kaz doesn’t get off scott-free either, but Zero is far more condescending with Kaz, and less willing to toy.

Not entirely sure how many ways someone could take that, but. Ok.

Except I’m not sure how truthful Zero is being here. as he knows the attack was Skull Face and was, up to this point, working with Skull Face. I COULD argue that he’s keeping Kaz safe from Skull Face, but I’m not sure about that. Mostly because of this conversation from the Skull Face and Zero recording:

I can feel your brimming confidence in Kaz from here, Zero *sarcasm*.

So what is the truth? Honestly..not sure.

Returning to the Kaz and Zero recording:

And Kaz and Ocelot start working together because Zero said so.

At this point, Venom Snake has already been created. A large part of this set up apparently is to get Kaz..to Venom. So not only is Zero manipulating him, but he’s convienently leaving out that the Snake Kaz is going to return to, is going to be another man. The double.

Played like a damned fiddle indeed.

He’s more blunt and talks to Kaz like he’s a whiny child (using his full name, threatening to hang up and then attempting to appeal a bit to his humanity to pacify him). I do regret that again, screen caps are unable to convey tone, but all of these tapes are incredibly well voice acted and you get the message very well.

Anyone can threaten, anyone can make all the statements they please, but Zero is fully willingly, and able, to carry those threats out. Enough so that Ocelot and Kaz are both aware of this, and behave accordingly.

Thinking about that, and how Zero has enough power to keep even Ocelot under thumb (at this point in the mid 1970′s at least) is a very good symbol of how strong, all seeing and all powerful he is. It worries them because it SHOULD worry them. That is the kind of unfathomable control Zero has at this point in time. Even though he knows it’s going to slip away, hence passing control over to Donald Anderson (Sigint). So while Zero himself won’t be in charge, he’s left enough instructions that what he wants to have happen in the world will continue, because that’s the sort of influence he’s got.

And ability.

When Zero was attacked, he was able to escape and take over New York, temporarily.

I think what ends up being further insidious is that Zero’s reach extends far beyond all this. Even after Zero is left virtually comatose from Skull Face’s attack, it hardly matters. Because programs put forth long before any of that happen play out exactly as he planned it. Sigint is able to take over Cipher under the AI’s and eventually the third Les Enfants Terribles child, Solidus Snake, George Sears, is made President of the United due to the will of the Patriots/Cipher.

That same program of course ends up ousting him later on. And responsible for large portions of the MGS2 story. And it’s that same program that eventually becomes the very web-controlled information network that has created the absolutely bleak setting of MGS4.

All because a man with a seemingly unfathomable desire to unify humans under the faceless, the controlled in the belief that he was following the will of a another, and could never accept that he was not only wrong about that will, but that his friend, his buddy, was still a human being. And that he too was a human being.

Obviously, we’ll never get any true insight into how Zero was thinking in regards to all of his motivations. And I do think that his feelings for his friends, and people he did care about *when he could even consider them people in the first place*, was genuine. When he says ‘Wake up soon, old friend” I do think he legitimately does see Snake as a friend. In whatever twisted, bizarre way that may be.

i think he was clever, arrogant, a touch naive and a well done antagonist. I think that the snippets and bits and pieces we get did work well for the purpose of the story, as it would be easy to overuse him and make him cartoonish. So the balance is achieved pretty well. MGS can go over the top sometimes, but in this case, I don’t think they did. I think that there’s much to chew on with Zero, because for all that he is polite, he’s deadly, dangerous, and someone you fervently would never, ever want to cross.

A bit on the nose, but Ocelot sums it all up pretty nicely here, doesn’t he?

#mgs #major zero #nates headcanons #oh look another essay from me #at idk like 11pm or w/e #i largely used MGSV caps for this if not entirely because that's honestly where 90% of the zero info comes from #hes not really mentioned in peace walker #and he's an ally in 3 #theres more in mgs4 but tbh it largely restates what mgsv states already #of course 4 came first but ANYWAY #i started to get tired as i did this but I HAD TO FINISH I HAD TO #this is of course another HOT MESS but i LOVE complicated characters SO MUCH #character posts: major zero

[thepalmofyourfreezinghand]

I know this fandom has a great number of toxic people, but I don't usually engage with other fans on social media, except for places like reddit, so I don't normally concern about that. However, this time, I feel like it just keeps getting more and more overwhelming. First the gaylors, then all the hate against Joe (not gonna lie, he's the one I feel sorry for the most in this situation), and the cheating allegation... I wish I could just turn my brain off on this matter but unfornately, I'm also a sensitive overthinker. I can't help but wondering what the hell drives those people to be so hateful and (as you say) selectively emphathetic towards people they know nothing about, apart the surface level things. The more I think about that, the more I feel uncomfortable with this fandom tbh.

Sorry for the rant. I'm just glad I came across your blog. I really appreciate all the posts and comments you've made about this matter. Thank you for keeping the level-headedness.

Also, on a more positive note, what are your favorite classic novels? Mine are Notre Dame de Paris, Jane Eyre, One Hundreds Years of Solitude, Pride & Prejudice, and The Catcher in the Rye.

It’s brutal out there these days! Hahah. It’s been so long since the fandom was this messy. I also feel bad because fans are being horrible not only towards Joe (and now Emma), but also towards each other, over a “fight” that 1. Doesn’t exist, and 2. Is not theirs to fight. And that is arguably worse, because the people they’re insulting behind a screen don’t have the same resources to get over the insults that Joe has.

And those are some amazing choices about your favorite classics! I should probably re-read The catcher in the rye, because it’s been so long since I’ve read it.

Victor Hugo is undoubtedly my favorite XIX century writer, and I’ve loved everything I’ve read from him (“The man who laughs” is my favorite novel from him - it’s a little less known than, say, Notre Dame or Les Miserables, but its atmosphere is just as haunting as the former’s, and its characters are just as splendid as the latter’s). Other favorites of mine from the XIX century include Middlemarch, anything by Dostoevsky, War and Peace and Anna Karenina (obviously), Fathers and Sons by Turgenev, Imaginary Lives by Marcel Schwob (his prose is gorgeous!), and Boule de Suif (Dumpling) by Guy de Maupassant (it’s a short story but it absolutely broke me).

When it comes to XX century literature, I love Simone de Beauvoir, E. M. Forster, Virginia Woolf, Edith Wharton, Vladimir Nabokov, Vasily Grossman, Sylvia T. Warner… among the Italians Elsa Morante and Alberto Moravia are amazing. If I had to choose only a couple of novels, I’d probably go with The Age of Innocence (Wharton) and Lolly Willowes (Warner).

Also, I wouldn’t include them among my favorites (although they are amazing) but I’ve never laughed so hard reading a book as when I read Dead Souls and The Government Inspector by Gogol (the critique of the Russian system and bureaucracy are so well done) and The Importance of Being Earnest by Wilde.

#classics

[winns-stuff]

LO APPRECIATION:

Okay I’m so sorry y’all I did not do the appreciation on the day I said I was going to at all. It’s a lot of good stuff going on and I’m a little busy, but besides that I would like us all to take our focus on one of my favorite characters, one that needs no real announcement but I’ll be giving it to him anyways, the intelligent and brilliant Hephaestus everyone! Please clap.

I’ve loved him ever since we saw Hera meeting up with him (or was it Persephone..? I’m not sure it’s been a while since I visited that chapter so please bare with me) he kinda reminded me of myself but much calmer and mature which I personally think is amazing because of how many goofy characters we’re starting to see 24/7. I enjoyed the vibe he gave as soon as he came onto the screen, I don’t know something about it really comforted me to the point where I felt relaxed and calm, it was like some sort of warm energy that overcame me whenever I saw him. Which added onto my attachment to him as a character because I only really like characters who give me good feelings, most characters especially the main cast has started to give me off feelings about them and I can’t help but be bored with it. So it was great for me to actually get to connect with a character that gave me all the fuzzy feelings that you feel for any character you find comfort in.

Yes y’all he’s one of my MANY comfort characters, something about him makes me feel safe and I genuinely feel like he’s the best thing that ever really happened in LO. I loved how tame his personality was with others and how professional and skilled he was while in his element. I also really enjoyed his character design, everything about him was so different and we don’t see many differences in the characters anymore so it was refreshing to see such a unique design just pop into the story. I feel like it added a lot more color (not literally but.. you know, metaphorically I guess) and it was a good contrast compared to the other characters.

Also, I just really love his glasses. They’re so tiny and cute I could literally stare at them all they, and I know it sounds weird but there’s something so oddly satisfying about how they just sit on his face I think it’s funny.

I would love to see his story, I miss him a lot but I don’t believe he’ll come back unless we pan over to Ares. And yeah, if y’all didn’t know I hate Ares, many people in this fandom love him but they also forgot that he basically coerced a very young Persephone to kiss him, to me it’s kinda backwards to just hold Apollo accountable, and by this statement I am no way saying that he shouldn’t be held accountable at all, I despise Apollo as well and I’m glad that people are going in on him, I’m not trying to give him pity or anything I just would’ve liked to see all the men who has done bad things or inappropriate things to Persephone be treated at the same caliber. Why are we congratulating Ares when he did that and continues to sexually harass Persephone and force himself upon her whenever he can.

Sorry for that mini Ares rant just wanted to make i things clear. Anyways, back to the star of this post now what I was saying is that I would’ve loved to see more of his story because I feel as though it would’ve been interesting and as much as I hate to say it I’m kinda curious about how Rachel would interpret it. Even though I feel like she would definitely butcher it in some kind of way that wouldn’t be satisfying for me and other people who love his character, I just want more content of him. I just need to see him interact with other people and have his own thoughts and motivations and stuff, genuinely seeing him would make me the happiest girl on Earth.

But I’m worried about seeing him as well, it seems like Rachel is leaning into more really weird “funny face” and yelling humor more as the story continues and I don’t want her ruining one of the many things I love about Hephaestus just for a “good laugh”, I just want him to be himself and not be season 3 beamed.

Anyways, that’s the end of the appreciation post but it surely won’t be the end of the appreciation in general. I could talk about this man all day and I genuinely love every single detail about him, but hopefully I appreciated him to the fullest. I really needed this post anyways, with this whole sex scene scandal getting closer (yeah I saw the previews for it) I’m getting more and more distraught and just angry. I just wish that Rachel could get her point across without just shoving sex in our face every 5 minutes, not everything relationship related has to be about sex let the couple breathe please and focus on other characters. But yeah, thank you so much Hephaestus for forcing me to think about positive things for a bit.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo

[phantom-miria]

Omg, yes i agree with everthing you said! I really don't necessary think that most people hate on f!robin just because they're misogynistic, they're most likely just other queer people that are feeling "vindacted" that IS finally acknowledging m!chrobin (and like, I get it! IS has a horrible track when it comes to mlm rep, the fact that m!chrobin isn't a thing in canon and the way they handled the queer male options in 3H is super annoying so I do sympathise with them a lot!) I just wish they wouldn't discount their hatred on her? IS bullshit and homophobia is not her fault?

And yeah, we have this amazing high fantasy world full of dragons, magic and trime travel but queer people having a child is where people draw the line? And why do they feel the need to go on posts of people having fun to remind them that "it's not canon"? I swear that those people love to do that with queer ships, is so annoying. I had this terrible experience recently with some f!chrobin shippers and idk I just felt like they were disgusted at the ideia of Chrom being bi from the way they talked, I hated so much.

Anyway, I'm really sorry for the rant and for reminding you of all the fandom bullshit that you were trying to ignore. I'm just so tired of all of this and I feel like no matter what I say about this anywhere else, I will get called of something bad. You felt like a person that would understand where i was coming from and you did, thank you for your time and understanding! Have a good day/night.

I definitely agree - I see how we got here, and I have sympathy, but a lot of it dries up the longer I'm in fandom and I get worn down by people swerving all over the place to take it out on F!Robin or people who did enjoy what we got in canon, I think. And there's also been a weird narrative about her being favored, which I think is extremely untrue if you look at the history of their inclusion in Smash and the trailer, then the amiibo, then the Fates cameo, then Warriors, etc etc. He always gets the lion's share in crossover content and it's really fucking depressing to people who like her!

FEH was the only spot she really had anything "over" him (and even then it was uneven, with him being available at launch with a summoning movie while she was relegated to grail unit added later) and now after an admittedly big wait his legendary here, with a bunch of shippy hints and getting to be himself in his legendary, plus he got the duo I'd give my eyeteeth to have her in, etc. I really think he was always doing fine as far as official rep, and Engage DLC just came along to confirm the same old pattern of "when only one is picked for representing the character in a crossover, it's him". Officially he has historically done well outside of giving nods to shippinness with Chrom, so I think it is both great and understandable that people are so excited about it now. Of course it feels vindicating! But I don't see the reason to sneer at other fans for what they enjoy or their hopes or personal disappointment about a female avatar not being allowed to officially rep the character, lol.

I really can't understand why people see those fans celebrating and decide they have to ruin it. As if those fans aren't already accutely aware of the fact that it isn't canon in the original game. As if that isn't the reason they're so happy in the first place? It is truly such an unwarranted dick move.

I'm really sorry to hear about that recent experience, anon! I love bi Chrom with all my heart - unfortunately I don't talk about it so much because I am an OTPer who's ended up unfathomably annoyed about the male player character, so I only really end up engaging with ship content for him with a female character most of the time, and so functionally the fact that I headcanon him bi ends up not coming up super often. But I love that idea and am extremely attached to it. There are dozens of us! Dozens!! Especially as a queer woman. It's important to me that they are both bi in my head.

I'm unfortunately not surprised to hear that people reacted with disgust - I remember that from my days in DA fandom :( but it never gets easier. It just makes it feel like there's no real place, because the people who like the version you do suck, but if you don't like the other version as much and those people think you suck for liking the one you do, it's just kind of well...here I am, then. Lol.

No need to apologize, anon, I like talking about this kind of thing! I think I'm just worried that I've been spending too much time doing so recently and my friends are going to be absolutely sick of it, lol. And realistically it is better for me to spend less brainspace on people in fandom being shitty, probably? But I think it's good for you to hear that other people in fandom feel the same way and have problems with a lot of different corners, like you do. I hope you have a good night too! There are people out here who just want to ship and have a good time. It's not all bullshit, even if it feels like it sometimes, or even if you end up focusing on it a lot like me. <3

[hellcatinnc]

Grrr Needed This Rant Today...

Ok I need to rant... So I came over here from Reddit because I started getting tired of not being able to post half the time cause it was instant removed automated shit. When it wasn't that it was just plain toxic people just about as bad as facebook at times. I recently wrote a post on someone's post asking about the gay themes from bungo stay dogs. I plainly said that it was the fandoms not legitly real and to make their own choices. I have watched up to season 4 and I my self fund Chuuya to be a pretty great character and honestly Dazai screwed him over just as he did Akutagawa and fucked both up in the head only difference is Chuuya hates him for it and Akutagawa craves his appraise all while still hating him.

I can't fathom this toxic ass coupling. Like seriously it blows my mind so many want to see people like Liliana with yang in piofiore, chuuya with dazai in bungo stray dogs and the list goes on. There is a toxic ass person in every show, anime, and game and yet seems to me people flock to that character and ship them with someone. Don't get me wrong I get the whole bad boy thing as much as the next and I also get the fact sometimes visuals can say alot more. Not gonna lie with not knowing the words in bungo stray dogs chuuya is face down in dazai's lap. When you read though Chuuya tries to move and Dazai pushes him down and holds him. HELLO people if this was a woman yall would call that rape or sexual assault but because its Dazai we look the other way??? WTF

Yang burns my ass but at least he comes of psychotic from the start you never are surprised if you stay its on you but even if people wanted dazai and chuuya together although I'm glad he listened to oda and left the mafia the point being is chuuya is all about loyalty and dazai just fuckin left never told him shit. Not only if you break it down to the nitty gritty but Dazai, is mentally fucked up, he has no problem assaulting someone, has no loyal for anyone since oda died, and he doesn't love anyone even his own damn self. For a show that was never to truly have love routes im just fuckin mind blown how people dont want the bad boys they want the psychos. Again I find Dazai and I love him as a character but I cant ship that man with anyone. Even if I did it would be Oda cause I think thats the only man he ever loved however I think oda looked at him more like a son.

Ok I'm done sorry about that... when the person suggested I go read the manga and I did for me to see exactly what I was saying its all in how you look at it and don't pay attention to wording..

#probably delete later #just a rant #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #yang #liliana #piofiore #ive been thinking about this for a while #needed to vent

[kokiseiko]

Fleeting Touches and Unbreakable Bonds

Shouta Aizawa x Reader; Hizashi Yamada x Reader

Song Recommendation: All I Ask - Adele

(Y/N) – Your Name

(L/N) – Last Name

Word Count: 1.8k +

Fandom: My Hero Academia | Boku no Hero Academia

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Pro-Hero!Reader; Hizashi Yamada x Pro-Hero!Reader

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Angst, Bittersweet

Summary: Is it possible to love someone so much that you can’t let go even after death?

Note: This is a special request made by my lovely fellow Aizawa simp: @nire-chann​.

Thank you for beta-reading this for me Ate Selene @yourgoddessselene​ | @saudade-mayari​

The events that had happened at the start of this fic are a few months after Aizawa became a teacher at UA.

A rush of sudden adrenaline that wracks your body, heart pounding, ears ringing, your entire system shaking with emotions you can’t even pinpoint. Walking towards the white-lined road of the city, the rays of the noon sun spilling all over the bent light posts, the once smooth grey cement on the sidewalks now cracked, malfunctioning traffic lights blinking and crackling, the aftermath: debris of the earlier commotion.

It was an explosion, a burst of dust-filled smoke that pained the eyes of individuals who unfortunately had it opened, then a sickening crash of building facades, window splinters raining throughout the area, injuring civilians from which you’ve catered immediately. Quickly healing wounds and giving directions for immediate evacuation.

You were Frantic. Desperate. Searching throughout the wreckage even when your quirk wasn’t for such. Continuing to move through the rubbles of building you spot the shine of the once yellow gear now cracked, broken into three, not far from it was a mass of black, crimson spilling underneath him, a shine of a bloodied band adorning his right hand.

You knew that it was near impossible even with your quirk to stabilize him, yet you continue, hands glowing in hues of emerald as you move his blood-soaked charcoal locks.

---

He feels lighter every passing second, but your presence grounds him. There’s so much more to say, to feel, to do. He sighs internally, he looks at you with such intent, he wants to let you know, to speak to you, but how can he, when his throat feels restricted. Even lifting his hand to touch your tear-stained cheeks to help ease the furrow in your brows had him use too much energy.

There was so much more, but having to look at you with all the emotions he could muster in his two light-grey orbs are what he could only communicate with. He can’t speak anymore, but he wants to at least taste your lips one last time.

To at least feel your heat and the cool contrast of your wet cheeks.

He’s barely noticing the tingle of nerves, that strange warm sensation he used to feel whenever you used to tend to his wounds, his injuries. His eyes wrinkle slightly when he remembers your pout during a rant a few days ago, your plump lips moving and going on about him being reckless.

He’s doing it again, but it has been too long since he had let himself fall through a never-ending well of questions, of replays, flashbacks, images, doubts, concerns. This may be the last time he’ll ever let himself tumble throughout the dark abyss of just him and his thoughts.

Was he content? He doesn’t know.

He just simply wants to remember your smile, your tears. You.

You were his anchor back then. Back when he was crumbling into a mess of a wanna-be hero who had his friend die during Hero-Work Studies.

You pulled him up when he was too tired to even recognize and register the warmth feeling in his chest that was being overpowered with guilt, regret, and frustration.

He never really accommodated these positive feelings, thinking that they would just be swept away with a whoosh of wind, only to return with a hard blow of hatred, anger, and pain.

He doesn’t want to experience that again, to go through that momentary shock and be hit with the sad consciousness of reality.

His throaty whisper was heard above the ringing in your ears: “Thank you…” for loving me, he wants to add, for being with me… I’ve loved you, tears cascading his cheeks

“I’m sorry…” for not acknowledging these wonderful feelings, for taking so long to let you know that, looking to your also wet cheeks, eyes pooling with tears from frustration? Sadness? Pain? Maybe a mix of three he guessed, “… I love you.”

He feels the gradual easing of his muscles all throughout his body. The blood rushing throughout his veins were subliminally slowing. The wet pelts of your tears dropping down his features would be a mere afterthought if he wasn’t focusing so much on you, but alas, his own mind was keeping him from doing so.

Even within his last seconds, his mind kept him prisoner.

His mind where everything was being played. His head spinning with the rapid successions of memories he subconsciously held dear. The majority of the replays containing you, your comforting touch when he needed an anchor, your soft kisses during those casual dates back in his favorite café, the hitch of your breath when you momentarily stopped the cute cooing noises you made whenever you petted the cats as you trailed your eyes on his kneeling form, your whispered ‘yes’ when he finally popped the question “Marry me?”, your wobbly smile when you walked down the red-carpeted aisle, the crack of your voice as your eyes that were holding nothing but love and adoration staring right at him as you began to state your vows began to pool.

Smiling.

He never thought that in his last moments he would be smiling. You’ve made him do things he thought he’d never do in this short life of his. And for that, he’s thankful.

You are truly something else.

***

Breathing was hard. His every inhale didn’t even feel like air, it’s akin to something much more condense. Black was all that surrounds him: a pool of nothing but midnight skies. A weird sensation constantly falling down to a never-ending night is what grounds him to- what exactly.

Though his throat was constricted, a single sound not able to flutter out his lips, his thoughts seemed loud on this vast plain of nothingness.

Where was he?

How can he even breathe?

“You’re still bound.”

What?

“You need to let go.”

Looking around him to at least locate the voice’s body was futile. Was this in his head?

“No. You’re in the middle. Stuck.”

Middle?

“Your time’s done, but you’re still tied down… by your bonds. Let go.”

Realizing what this meant he answered the disembodied voice in his head, I can’t.

A chilling gust of an unknown wind made its way throughout his existence.

***

It can’t be. He knows it can’t happen. He died. How can he still be standing- oh.

He doesn’t know whatever the wind did to him, but he at least deduced that it returned him to you.

You who was now kneeling in the mix of wet gravel and grass whilst staring into the distance with streams still flowing down your puffed eyes, cheeks streaked with layers of endless tears that managed to drip down your wobbling chin, your neck covered in his scarf that had splats of dried hazel-vermillion.

How long was he falling back there?

Two new sounds of weeping.

He sees that the usual gravity-defying golden hair was now instead streaking down the shoulders of a black leather jacket-clad voice hero. Mic. A figure kneeling down beside your form, hugging your side, whose body shook with great intensity together with yours. Midnight.

He aches. Thorns felt like they were encasing him within.

For a moment he wants to hold you, to comfort you, placing his hand to your other shoulder, placing the loose strand of hair behind your ear, but you don’t seem to sense him.

***

It’s been a long month of just watching, of just seeing but not being able to do anything. He hates the unfairness of it all.

He tries. Convincing himself that his touches were felt, that his hugs were warming your numbness, that his kisses were making the sting dwindle little by little, that him laying by the other side of your bed while you sleep with a pillow covered in his old shirt lets you know that he’s still there, that he still loves you, that he still can’t won’t let go.

His touches on your shoulder, which were supposed to reassure you just in turn made you shiver and look confused, bewildered even.

He wants to be heard, to be felt, to exist, but his traces no longer lingered, only a mere susurrate, a short-lived touch in your still graying ambience.

He wants to hold you while you cry and let all of the frustrations out of that head of yours, where he knows that like him you’re stuck, in your own scribbles of granite thoughts, that you too were deprived of the other’s warmth, that you too felt like a shell stuck with all of this sand you called your chaos, your blurring mix of feelings.

And as weeks turns into fleeting months. Months of winter blooming into a spring of years, left on autumn, in auto-pilot, watching, always nearby to see you recover. Recover from the debris and aching splinters that his existence left behind, while he still remains crumbling, pieces of him falling.

“Thank you Hizashi… you grounded me when it all felt like a dream.”

He should’ve been the one doing what Hizashi is now. It should’ve been black instead of gold that you were nuzzling into. It should’ve been his deep baritone rather than the smooth and gentle voice Hizashi uses whenever he encourages, supports, and anchors you.

He should’ve been the one holding your hand whenever you sit in a creaky wooden bench in a nearby park to admire the sunset.

“I know that it’s impossible to reciprocate what I’m about to say, but I at least wanted to let you know-”

“I like you too, Zashi’.”

He should’ve been the one you’re tending, taking care of. Your tears of frustration and aura of concern that was once reserved for him was now for another blond.

“Zashi’ you should start being much more careful you know?”

“I promise I will- ow!”, your smiles at his friend’s idiotic antics just adds jealousy to his mix of resentment and longing.

He should’ve been the only one who sees your gaze of fondness swirling in your beautiful solemn orbs.

But he can’t. He can’t anymore.

And to that he goes back to that midnight swirl, that feeling of falling, to that voice inside his head that was constantly questioning him, encouraging him to release the rope that was still bruising his slowly crumbling heart that he’s put at the back of his mind, not yet wanting to face the reality of the other side, a world without your soft hands holding his cheeks, an existence without your love.

“Surrender Shouta…”

It all felt like déjà vu. Your pretty face blurred with the sheer veil. Soft smiles and salty droplets of tears. The gold-lined red carpet. The people present. It was all like back then, but instead of that classic black tuxedo and a black bow tie, it was a white suit and a navy blue tie.

You’re smiling… at him. Looking directly at him.

It was a whisper, a message just for him; words that helped him to finally let go, to accept, and to be patient.

“Shouta… I hope that you still remember that you will forever be a part of me. Until the next life Shouta Aizawa. Wait for me, we’ll start again; continue what we can’t finish.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you all liked this piece. My requests are (finally) open.

#Shouta Aizawa #Aizawa #Shouta Aizawa Fanfic #Aizawa Fanfics #BNHA Fanfic #Shouta Aizawa x You #Shouta Aizawa x Reader #Hizashi Yamada #Yamada #Hizashi Yamada Fanfic #Yamada Fanfics #Hizashi Yamada x You #Hizashi Yamada x Reader #Eraserhead #Present Mic #Eraserhead x Reader #Present Mic x Reader

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Can we take a moment to talk about what a tragic character Minerva is? Y’all know that for the longest time I haven’t been the biggest fan of her, and honestly I’m still not? but I think I might’ve had a breakthrough on why that is. 

Whenever I’ve asked around to see why people find her so appealing or why they consider her their favorite, I’ll get answers like, “she’s such a complex character and she deserved a redemption arc!” or “she should’ve come back to the school with us! Let Minnie be happy, you cowards! Telltale did her dirty! I could write paragraph after paragraph about her!” all sorts of things along those lines… but like, no one seems to want to actually talk about her. I find that interesting? Since when I do follow up with a “care to explain further?” I get nothing. Radio static. Like…. no, talk to me please, I just wanna understand-

Minerva within the context of TFS is such a tragedy. She grew up in a school for troubled youth where all the adults left them for death at the start of the breakout, they had walkers trying to eat the living all around them, and I’m sure she saw her fair share of traumatic violence and despair… but on the bright side, she always had her twin sister, Sophie, and little brother, Tenn. She had her friend and eventual girlfriend, Violet. She had music, and a dorm full of pretty paintings done by Sophie. She and Louis composed a song together to make everyone feel better. There are worse places to live than the school. 

Then one day she got traded away to a bunch of raiders against her will, having no idea what the hell these people were gonna do to her and Sophie. They were made to be soldiers to fight in a war that had nothing to do with them. The delta fucking broke her. If we’re to believe Lilly’s story about the twins, they started their brainwashing process early on when Sophie was still alive, and it seems like Minerva was easier to control as Sophie was still planning a way out and causing trouble. Then, when Sophie convinced her to steal a boat and get the hell out, they got caught and the delta forced her to murder her own twin sister. 

Like…. I’m sorry, not only did Minerva kill her own sister, but she was made to believe that was the right thing to do? That line she says about how she had to prove her loyalty to the place she calls home? That shit’s ingrained in her brain, you can tell that isn’t the first time she’s heard or said that very thing. That is what made her family to the delta. Delta is her home now, her family. Sophie was just a thing that needed to be dealt with. You keep your head down, do as you’re told, and you survive.  You survive and you get to go home, eat a hot meal, take a shower, and be with your delta family.  If not, you end up like Sophie.

What’s also fucked is that Minerva actually cares about these people now. Think about that. After everything they did to her and made her do, she’s been trained to see them as her family and obey. When you save Louis and he kills Dorian, Minerva actually cries out and is visibly hurt by her death. When she’s with the other raiders on land, she's screaming at walkers to get away from them. She cares about the people who made her kill Sophie… and no one ever talks about that??

She fucking hates Clementine. Clementine is just another thing in Minnie’s way. I know the part of the fandom likes to ship these two together and they think it’s hot when they fight and shit, but within the canon text, Minerva wants Clementine gone. Dead. She is the thing stopping her from having her old family merge with her new family. If Clementine hadn’t made them fight, they all would’ve been captured and they’d all be a delta family now. She would’ve had Tenn back. 

Clementine is the problem, she made everyone fight back and that’s why people are dead. Minerva hates her for it… it’s not a “I hate you but like the sexual tension, y’know?” that I see people pretend it is, it’s “you are ruining everything and if I have to, I will kill you myself and I won’t give a second thought about it when they toss your body overboard.”

Like….. seriously, think about how fucked up all of this is. Minerva is a husk of who she was before she was taken away. Sure, you do have to keep in mind that when Tenn and Violet are describing her, their sights are a bit clouded, y’know? But I do believe that she was someone who was kind and cared about people, she wanted to make people feel safe and comforted. 

Now she’s a brainwashed soldier who won’t help the people she used to call friends when they’re about to get limbs cut off. She won’t hesitate to knock someone unconscious or threaten a child.  She’s willing to trick them into being captured with no regard for what’s going to happen to them. … all she knows is this was the mission, and now they all get to be together again back at the delta. 

Then when she finds out there’s a bomb on the boat, she ditches Violet to blow up with it in order to make it to land herself. She loses her shit seeing everyone die and gets her face chewed off by a walker… and then she tries to blow Clementine and AJ up with a grenade. 

Oh, and who can forget the fact that she tracks the group down with plans of murdering Tenn so that they can go to a better place together? And she’ll take down anyone who gets in her way?

Like….. jesus christ, Minerva’s waaaaay too far gone. It’s awful. 

I think that’s what stumps me about why she’s so loved in the way that she is. It’s not that I don’t understand why she’s complex and well-written, I get that perfectly fine. She’s a compelling character study when you comb over all her scenes and take different factors into account.

What I don’t understand is why we tend to just throw everything interesting about her away? For what? 

These days, I never see anyone talking about any of this unless they’re insisting she deserved a redemption arc which…. Eh, I’ll touch on this later. What I mostly see here and mostly other platforms is how great it would be if she and Clementine made out, or hey what if she and Violet got back together if she did come back to the school? Or they just….the best term I have for this is “uwu-ify.” As in she’s reduced to a caricature of a tall, pretty, mean, white lesbian who has “good damage.” 

People insist that Telltale are cowards or bastards because their predictions of her turning on the delta to save Clem and crew didn’t happen. Instead, Minerva ends up being the final baddie you gotta get away from, and she ends up taking someone down with her. But did you really expect to just do a 180 and suddenly decide being brainwashed for over a year was lame and Clementine and friends are cool? Gonna help them out and be with Tenn again? Sure, there’s some left over trauma but love conquers and fixes everything, right?

Uh…. no? That’s not how people work? Honestly, if we entertain the idea that Minerva wasn’t bit and somehow didn’t murder Clementine when they all got back to the school…. romance is the last thing she is ever gonna think of??

I think that’s what bothers me most when reading these au’s and rants about redemption and the entire idea of clemerva as a whole. It’s the same thing that I see happen with Violet- Minerva only has value to fans if she’s in a wlw relationship. By herself, she doesn’t matter. They don’t care about her canon story, they don’t care about Sophie, they don’t care about discussing what could’ve happened if she and Tenn reunited under better circumstances or had a healing recovery together. But why?

Throwing a girlfriend at her isn’t some band aid that’s gonna cover up all the bad she went through?? Having an enemies to lovers romance with Clementine isn’t going to fix a years worth of brainwashing, trauma or the fact that she murdered her own sister and the delta told her she's proved her worth to them?? 

Having the support of those around her is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. The idea of the Ericson crew as a whole trying to help her out and do the best they can to accommodate her is bittersweet since there’s only so much they can do. They’re not trained therapists, which is what Minerva would need and plenty of years ahead of her to work through and come to terms with everything that happened as well as taking steps forward. I’m not saying that she shouldn’t have friends or that she couldn’t have a healthy romantic relationship someday... but that isn’t the solution, y’know? 

I don’t know how else to explain this, but it makes me feel weird that all of this stuff is flat out overlooked or doesn’t appear to matter to fans of her. 

Look, I get it. We all want these characters to be happy. AU’s are a thing, after all. Sometimes we want to forget about the bad things and focus on the good that bring us comfort. You wanna gush about the idea of an AU where the twins never got traded, the raiders didn’t exist, and Clementine got to meet them the way they were before? I feel that, AU’s are super comforting and fun to explore, and my point isn’t to try and shame anyone who has an AU you like this. 

Hell, you think I don’t have days where I pretend mute Louis isn’t a thing because the whole concept of Louis having his tongue cut out of his mouth breaks my fucking heart? No, lot’s of days I just want to forget everything about that route, I want to set aside all the bad and just intake as much clouis fluff as I can get…. But that doesn’t mean I always ignore or refuse to acknowledge the bad just because I don’t like it. I fucking hate the fact that Louis loses his tongue when you don’t save him, but guess what? That’s a canon route you can play, just like any other route, and the possibilities that come with a mute Louis are vast and compelling. 

This is how it is for me… my favorite characters are my favorite for a reason, and I take all the bad with the good. Louis isn’t perfect, and I don’t want him to be. I was to dive into his backstory about why did that to his parents, I like to talk about what he went through with Marlon’s murder and his feelings about AJ and Clementine at the point, I like to view his love of music as bittersweet. He can stand on his own, and while he is a love interest for Clementine, that isn’t his only purpose. 

I know everyone’s different, they express their love for characters in their own ways, but I do have a genuine question: do you guys actually like Minerva?

Believe it or not, I’m not trying to step on toes or make everyone feel defensive which I know is how people will react to this. “You’re just saying all of this to make us feel bad for shipping clemerva! You don’t even like Minnie so you don’t get to say shit!” yeah yeah, I hear you and look, it’s true that she’s not my favorite character. I know I’ve said I hate her in the past but upon reflection and throwing out fandom interpretations.... I don’t hate her. I get it now. She’s a great character study to dissect and analyze and I think she deserves more than what the writers and the fandom have given her. 

And yeah, what I do hate is clemerva, and I’ve explained why. It’s not for me, it makes me uncomfortable, but at the end of the day, who cares? Me not liking it doesn’t mean anything to those who create AU’s for them. They have their reasons, they can do as they please as long as they’re not hurting anyone. I’m just here pointing out things I see and things that bother me in hopes of starting a discussion.

There’s my ramble about Minerva. I’m gonna go make some tea now. 

#twdg minerva #twdg clementine #twdg sophie #twdg tenn #twdg violet #twdg louis #twdg marlon #twdg lilly #twdg aj #twdg

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 287: Family Reunion

Previously on BnHA: The Tomura For One VS Deku And Pals clusterfuck reached new levels of clustfuckery as AFO possessed Tomura’s body and stabbed Kacchan and Endeavor. Shouto was all “good thing I leveled up offscreen so as to be able to fly around whilst carrying 400lbs worth of people”, and did just that and it was like, damn, son. Meanwhile Deku’s rage went Mach 100, and he kicked Tomura’s ass for almost two whole seconds, but in the process he apparently forgot that IF TOMURA TOUCHES HIM THAT IS VERY BAD, and so he stupidly let Tomura touch him and Tomura was all “GAME, SET.” Fortunately for Deku, his quirk plays by its own rules, and so the chapter ended with us cutting to the METAPHYSICAL OFA/AFO PARANORMAL DREAMSCAPE OF MYSTICAL BULLSHIT, where AFO!Vestige was all “lol Tomura y u mad”, and Nana!Vestige was all “SUP DEKU, YOU’RE JUST IN TIME, LOOKS LIKE IT’S ASSKICKING O’CLOCK.” I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s more or less the gist of it.

Today on BnHA: AFO is all “well if it isn’t Tomura’s grandmother who I murdered that one time”, and Deku is all “?”, and AFO is all “fucking vestiges, man, wild”, and Deku is all “??”, and AFO is all “ANYWAYS GETTIM TOMURA”, and OFA is all “NOT SO FAST”, and Deku is all “???”, and really, same. AFO then goes off on some wild tangent about how Deku is unworthy because he couldn’t protect everyone and needed help from OFA and got mad about his friends being stabbed, which is such a cold take it gave me hypothermia, but it ends up not mattering since Deku and Tomura both wake up seconds later with OFA still in the possession of its rightful owner, HOW ABOUT THAT. The chapter ends with the LoV approaching on Gigantomachia’s back with Dabi practically salivating at the mouth, and Toga trying to reignite an old fandom blood feud. Toga why would you do this to me. Toga.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

[CROWD LOSING THEIR MINDS] FINALLY THE NANA HAS COME BACK TO BNHA!! IF YA SMELLLLL WHAT THE NANA IS COOKIN!!!!! [RINGSIDE BELL CHIMING WILDLY] [LOUD AIRHORN NOISES]

“chapter 287: mistake” omg. yeah I’ll say you made a mistake, AFO. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE FLEETING LAST MOMENTS OF YOUR SHITTY EVIL LIFE

(ETA: so in all seriousness this must be referring to AFO’s belief that All Might/OFA made a mistake in choosing Deku, right? “I can’t believe you went and chose this shounen manga protagonist as your champion, what were you thinking.” I’ll just put this out there: however many comic books AFO read as a child, it clearly was not enough.)

wow Deku how slow are you

yes you’re inside OFA you dimbulb, did you think your clothes suddenly vanished out of the blue and the ghost of Nana just randomly appeared in the real world by some freak coincidence?? can you believe this kid. breaks his arms a measly 10-15 times in a row and all of a sudden he can’t think straight, get it together Deku

but also brb having a moment at the fact that his thoughts immediately run back to Kacchan, even with all of this nonsense going on and Nana about to lay the beatdown on AFO’s potato-lookin’ ass. forget that noise, all he wants to know is whether or not Kacchan is all right. fuckin’ geez. AM I OVERREACTING HERE A BIT. probably

(ETA: ALSO!! the way he just trails off!! “Kacchan is...” and then he can’t bring himself to complete the thought. oh my god my heart.)

HOLY SHIT

okay,

damn but this man sure knows how to ruffle my feathers. as eminently detestable as ever!!

could it be any clearer here that AFO is not on Tomura’s side?? for a moment I thought he had actually grabbed him by the back of the head in order to get him to look. but nope, he’s just resting his pointing hand on top of his head instead while he’s all “HEY TOMURA LOL IT’S THE GHOST OF YOUR DEAD PATHETIC GRANDMA”

for those keeping track at home, this would be the first time that Deku has heard this information -- that Tomura is Nana’s grandson -- and possibly the first time Vestige!Nana has heard it as well. Nana died when Kotarou was still a child, so for all we know the Vestige!Nana didn’t even know she had a grandson, lol. TODAY ON “MAKESTE RANTS AT LENGTH ABOUT THINGS THAT WILL PROBABLY BE ADDRESSED WITHIN THE NEXT THREE PANELS”, anyway moving on

lmao for the record I fucking LOLed at this giant question mark immediately bubbling up over Deku’s head

no idea what AFO is about to ramble on about now, haven’t read that far yet. but let the record show that Deku’s immediate reaction to hearing “BTW NANA IS YOUR ARCHNEMESIS’S GRANDMA LULZ” is everything I could have hoped for

(ETA: fandom nailed the shit out of this one with the confused Mr. Krabs meme lmao.)

okay so now AFO is monologuing at length about how he would sometimes have “riveting dreams” about the previous owners of all the quirks he stole. but once he gave the quirks away they stopped bothering him?? holy moly let me just take all the notes

okay so he’s saying that Vestiges are created whenever someone has their quirk stolen by AFO. but if they then disappear when he gives the quirks away, does that also mean that whoever receives the quirks also gets the original owner’s Vestige bundled in every time?? that would be wild okay hold up let me read the rest of this

so he’s saying that the Vestiges are actually the “consciousnesses” of the original quirk owners, which have become embedded in their dna or something. SOUNDS INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS TO ME LOL but on the other hand this is a world where children can be born with airplane heads, so my disbelief can hardly afford to pick and choose what it’s gonna be suspended at! anyways though, how does he know he’s the only one who was able to converse with them? did you conduct detailed six-month follow-up interviews with everyone you gave quirks to or what

and if it really is the case that this ability was formerly exclusive to him, isn’t that more evidence than ever that OFA and AFO are actually THE EXACT SAME QUIRK oh whoops am I getting ahead of myself again, sorry

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS ALL, “GRANDMA?”

“WHY AM I HERE, WELL LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, GRANDSON. YOU SEE THAT MAN GROWING OUT OF YOUR RIBCAGE THERE? WELL IT’S JUST THE FUNNIEST THING, ACTUALLY”

WAIT SO IS HE SAYING THEY’RE SOULS OR NOT??

this makes it sound like they won’t ever get to rest, which sure sounds like a soul thing to me. well whatever, soul, consciousness, I guess it’s just semantics at the end of the day

anyways though, so this asshole is finally done talking (I’m sure that won’t last), so now we can finally have the heartwarming reunion we’ve all been waiting for

sigh

-- actually, no, not “sigh”!! you know what!! because Tomura says “whatever the reason”, but that’s only because he doesn’t actually have a fucking clue about the reason. like, I don’t know if the knowledge that AFO killed Nana would be enough to give him pause, but if he knew the whole story and knew that AFO was behind not only Nana’s death, but the rest of his family’s deaths as well... now that would be a whole different thing

anyway. but at least it’s becoming clearer now why AFO spent all that time raising Tomura up as his heir and brainwashing him even though he seems to have been planning this body takeover the whole time. it’s all because he loves making people miserable! yaaaaay

btw HAS NANA HAD THE EXACT SAME MOLE ON HER CHIN AS TOMURA THIS ENTIRE TIME WTF. am I just the least observant person who ever lived lmao

lol wtf

ground: [randomly starts exploding]

Deku: “ONE FOR ALL IS BEING ERODED!!!” LOL IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE, OKAY THEN. I’ll take your word for it

y’all I cannot fucking get over this “AFO growing out of Tomura’s hip socket like a fucked-up ventriloquist dummy” shit though

you do realize that absolutely no one can take you seriously right now, right?? it’s important to me that you know this

WHAT’S THIS NOW

seems like SOMEONE has had it up to here with a certain SOMEONE ELSE’S bullshit lmaooo bye Felicia

I SAID GOOD DAY!!

you guys why is he not dying!!

-- OH DAMN

love how Deku is just lying there like “YOU KNOW THOSE DAYS WHERE YOU’RE LIKE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.” poor Deku

(ETA: where in god’s name is OFA Prime standing. why are my thoughts fully consumed by this lmao.)

are Nana and OFA Prime even doing anything?? why are they sticking their arms out like that. wait hold up is this all a big metaphor for the back-and-forth going on between Tomura trying to steal OFA and OFA being all “actually no you can’t, please enter your password and click on all the boxes with bicycles in them to prove you’re a human first”?

OH SNAP OFA PRIME SAID NO THANKS

“SORRY BRO WE’VE ALREADY MADE OURSELVES AT HOME HERE”

I have only just noticed that metaphysical!Deku has the same scars as actual!Deku. and yet his arms are not currently broken! that doesn’t really seem consistent to me but whatever!! maybe he saved right before the boss battle, that would be smart of him

anyway, that’s great and all that OFA Prime is here helping out, but I really wanted to see Nana fight AFO in a one on one though so I’m a bit disappointed. also why is it only the two of them?? where are Banjou and the others. of all the times to be sleeping on the job

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THIS MAN

WOULD YOU STOP. WOULD YOU JUST QUIT IT ALREADY

oh shit hold up

doesn’t this confirm that the reason he wanted to transfer his power to Tomura is because he believed it would make him strong enough to finally take OFA because of Quirk Singularity? jesus christ. and here he was so sure of himself. but it turns out he doesn’t actually know shit! you can’t just fucking take OFA like that ya dingdong that’s not how it works

(ETA: SO, A THOUGHT -- is there any sort of subtle hinting here in the way that he words this? “if your strength is combined with mine”, as opposed to “if my strength is combined with yours”? no idea if the admittedly-so-small-as-to-be-almost-inconsequential distinction between those two sentences exists in the original Japanese or not, but I find it very interesting that the English wording implies that he’s the one adding Tomura’s strength to his own, rather than vice versa.)

now he’s insulting Deku!!

excuse me sir WHO ASKED YOU anyway. and never mind that being consumed by an, AND I QUOTE, “unquenchable” rage is your protege’s whole THING, and that he also needed your help to avoid being burned to a crisp a short while ago. where do you get off I swear

(ETA: also just want to point out that in the panel before this one he says that he’s been “watching through Tomura”, which pretty much confirms that his consciousness or whatever is alive inside of him all the time. Tomura is definitely not getting rid of this guy any time soon.)

WOW

first he calls Kacchan useless, then he calls Deku a simpleton, and don’t even get me started with Nana. just, you guys. this man is just... a very, very rude man

NOW OFA IS ALL “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES HIM SUCH A GOOD PROTAGNIST YOU BUTTMUNCH” AND OMG PREACH

“DESPITE HIS COMMON SENSE” sdfkllk my man he already has one brother roasting him, take it easy guy

AHH WHAT

IS THIS BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

YEP

hahaha nice try Tomura

so Deku’s all “I didn’t lose my power! BUT” and I assume the “but” is the part where his arms are still broken and shit, and meanwhile Tomura’s body is almost healed up now finally

they’re both wiped out and now AFO is again petitioning Tomura to let him take over goddammit

“you won’t lose your mind” yep, he sure won’t! scout’s honor!! pinky swear!!

meanwhile Deku is getting fucking desperate flkjl;k my baby. and Machia is going to show up any second now too, probably. what else can fucking go wrong at this point

oh shit I shouldn’t have asked

get ready to rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuumble, probably

OH MY GOD

WELL AT LEAST SOMEONE HERE IS HAVING A GOOD TIME. jesus

so as soon as he heard Endeavor was there he got all, “TIME FOR THE BIG REVEAL”, is that right? WELL JOKE’S ON YOU TOUYA, YOUR DAD DOESN’T SEEM ALL THAT CONSCIOUS AT THE MOMENT, SO THAT’S GOING TO DRAIN A LOT OF THE TENSION FROM THE SCENE WHEN YOU GO ALL REVERSE DARTH VADER ON HIM AND HE’S ALL “ZZZZZZZZ”

meanwhile Toga is having unsettlingly quiet angst

jesus christ Toga this is all we need right now

“WAS JIN-KUN NOT A PERSON” sdkfjlk Horikoshi I swear. please have mercy on this fandom. this is the debate that refuses to die!!

but seriously ffs, the issue isn’t that Jin deserved to die, it’s that the countless people whom Jin would have either directly or indirectly killed didn’t deserve to die either. people don’t only become people when you attach names and faces to them! we all loved Jin because we’d gotten to know him, but that doesn’t mean his life was inherently worth more than the lives of all the people he would have killed. sometimes there’s just no good answer

like, it’s just crazy to me that because the heroes are all “we want to protect everyone!” but then aren’t always able to do so because that’s literally impossible, whereas the villains are all “we don’t care about anyone other than the select few people that we actually like!”, the villains somehow wind up getting the better PR. it just so happens that it’s infinitely easier to be loyal to the interests of a few people as opposed to ALL THE PEOPLE. like, no shit, it’s easier to stick to your moral code when you barely have a moral code. and so the villains can kill thousands and no one bats an eye, but if a hero fails to save even one person they’re hypocritical moral failures. like what the hell

BUT ANYWAY, sorry to go off on a tangent there lol, it’s not really a big deal. I’m just preemptively trying to stave off more discourse about it lol but who am I even kidding

anyways lol, but of course they won’t kill you unless they have no choice, Toga. but when it comes to catch-22 situations, it’s a bit much to infer that the heroes don’t consider the villains people just because they opt for the choice that spares more innocent lives. I sure as hell don’t want my babies out here killing people, but to say that they can’t no matter what or else they’re no different from the villains is just...

anyway so the chapter has now just ENDED, just like that!! on a shot of Ochako’s face!

I SENSE ANOTHER THROWDOWN COMING. and it had better not be a total letdown like the last one! NANA BARELY DID ANYTHING HORIKOSHI, WHAT THE FUCK. I started out with such high hopes lol

but I will settle for Toga VS Ochako, and Deku VS Tomura: The Sequel: Shouto’s Revenge! SPEAKING OF HEROES WHO HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT MURDERING PEOPLE lmao

#bnha 287 #shigaraki tomura #all for one #shimura nana #midoriya izuku #one for all #lil bro when are you gonna get yourself a proper name so I can tag you #himiko toga #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #ofa the first

[onlythebrave-mp3]

my top 2020 fics!

okay! so i recently jumped back into this fandom after a couple of years, and started reading fic again, and i wanted to rec some of my favorites that were written this year. there’s ten on this list, and i probably could’ve done like 30 but this is already so long lol. it’s kind of in a general order, so #1 is my fav for this year, but i tried not to focus on the ranking too much because it stresses me out and i don’t need any more anxiety so it’s ended up being a pretty vague system.

1.  Our Lives, Non-Fiction (113k) by @indiaalphawhiskey 

listen. I’ve reblogged this fic like 10 times. I’ve read it twice already and it came out less than 3 weeks ago. It is an instant classic, right up there with fics like TIF or Wear it like a Crown. It has gorgeous, gorgeous writing, a thoroughly developed plot and well written character development, and such a compelling story. It is a marcel/louis fic, and I usually shy away from that kind of thing, but i’m so glad i didn’t this time because god, this one is so good. Seriously, if anyone ends up reading it, come and rant to me about it and we can cry together. Halfway through the second chapter, I created a note on my phone so I could keep track of everything I loved, and my comment on that fic is essentially a love letter to @indiaalphawhiskey. It's just so good. If you’re going to read one fic off this list, read this one. 

2. Loving You's a Bloodsport (106k) by @rosesau

okay i’m pretty sure this one made me cry like four times, which is a feat for me because i’m not usually a crier. Its soulmates with a little bit of a twist, and the plot is so well developed. Harry and louis’ feelings and their progression are written so vividly and i wish i could forget that i read it so i could go and read it again for the first time. It's also got some enemies to lovers, which is my favorite trope, and all of the side characters are beautifully developed as well. Prince!Harry, soldier!Louis, angsty soulmates. What more could you want? Oh and if you’re not convinced enough, here is a quote that fucking follows me around because its so beautiful: “Love and hate are two sharp knives balanced on a very fine line and I’ve cut myself on both because of you.” (ohmygod)

3. Mine Would Be You (114k) by @crinkle-eyed-boo

okay this one is listed at number three but it really should be 1c lol. I started this one at 11 pm like an idiot, and i don’t think i slept that night at all. It's Exes to lovers, and it's so well written. It switches between the past and the present, it's  heartbreakingly beautiful, the breakup and resolution are both so realistically written as well, and there's a great ot5 plotline too that i really loved. This one was also an instant classic- i bookmarked it before i even finished reading it. It's also got beautiful art and Louis and Harry are both artists in NYC, which I'm a slut for. Please read this one, it's so good.

okay i just realized how long this got so i’m putting the rest under the cut

4. The Murmur of Yearning (93k) by @mediawhorefics (for some reason tumblr isn’t letting me tag them??) | mediawhore on ao3 

I just finished this one, and my goddddddd it's so good. I read it in a day, and it's essentially 100k. Which isn’t that unusual for me except I did skip a class to get through it (an exam prep class. Not my finest moment but I passed. so.) There are tons of original characters that draw you in, and the whole world that is created is so fascinating and detailed. There's also no homophobia, so if you like historical fics but get triggered by that kind of thing, this is for you! Also, if you’re worried about the non-con elements, I'm sure you could message the author but also feel free to check in with me! I’ll definitely be rereading it in the near future and am totally up for discussing and crying over this fic with anyone.

5. Remember Me Fondly by @bluejeanlouis | kiddle on ao3 

ahhhhhhh this one made me sob too! It's set in both the present and the past, and I fell in love with all of the characters. This one is also heartbreaking, but I promise there’s a happy ending. Also, they way this fic deals with the fame and the homophobia and tours that harry and louis went through -even if it isn’t actually canon and is set in the 90s- is so vividly painful and realistic. It's written half through a journalist’s eyes and half through harry and louis, yet the switch in pov is so seamless and fluid and adds so much to the piece. 11/10.

6. Nothing But You On My Mind (83k) by @absoloutenonsense | nonsensedarling on ao3

okay. I started this in the middle of the night, and told myself I'd read one chapter to see if I liked it and then I would go to sleep. I'm pretty sure I read like 6. It sucks you in right from the beginning, and there's such a well developed plot. And it's so unpredictable and all of the details are so nuanced and tiny and then you look back at everything after you’ve finished it and go oh. Ohhhhhh. This one is also enemies to lovers. Are we sensing a pattern here?

7. An Invincible Summer (44k) by @twopoppies | Brooklyn_Babylon on ao3 

so as you can see this one is only 45k but i just love it so much that i’m rec’ing in anyways. It’s such a gentle, exploratory piece of literal art, and I kind of want to stay in the world that was created forever. Its set in the 1940s on a farm and i know @twopoppies has said that it started off as an excuse for barn sex, but it such a vivid story and its heartbreaking and emotional and uplifting all at once and please please please go read this. The only critique I have of it is that it's only 40k.

8. Somewhere in Between Lightning (99k) by @nauticalleeds, @shiningdistraction, and jassy117 on ao3

So this one's exes-to-lovers as well, and it's written in such a realistic way. Also i’m in love with the concept of louis on love island, despite the fact that he said he hates it. There's a sauna scene that I still think about sometimes. It's got just the right amount of angst and fluff and pining and despite the fact that it's set on a show that is usually pretty dramatic and unrealistic, this is written in a really beautiful but pragmatic way. I love it. i’ve got it  downloaded on my phone so I can read little snippets of it sometimes if I have to wait somewhere.

9. You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) (95k) by @harryrainbows | lucythegoosey on ao3 

god so this one incorporates some of Fine Line into it, and wouldn’t say it's a song fic so much as it is written as a canon compliant fic that ties harry’s songs into it and its done so fucking well oh my god. Harry and Louis are exes in this one too (lol i'm sorry) and the build up of them getting together and the pining and longing is written really well.

10. At Risk, I Fold (15k) by @bearmustard | clare328 on ao3 

so i know this one is only 15k, but I put this in the list anyways. It's canon compliant, and it does mention the stunts (as stunts), but don’t let that deter you. Harry and Louis are written almost exactly as i’ve imagined them, and this one is such a heartbreaking look into the resilience and love and bravery that they have. It made me cry despite the fact that it’s not really a glum fic. The only reason it is last on the list is because it's shorter and i was mostly intending this to be a long fic rec. The love that they have for each other really shines through in this one, and it’s super gentle and soft and sad and happy all at once and just please go read it.

#my fic rec #hoping this doesnt flop lol #if people like this i might do more #we'll see lmao #also #if you ask me who tops/bottoms #in any of these fics #you owe me $10 #reading fics specifically for who takes it up the arse is weird <3

[clavis-baby]

The (possible) Downfall of Obey Me

5-16-21 (when writing this the event toys out)

(Tbh this post is just be trying to be naïve towards Solomare and at ever aspectthat I mention you have every single right to be upset and mad)

Okay so it’s no secret that Obey me is making bank and is very very obviously trying to make us money on the game with even trying to make us spend money with original stuff that was free to now secretly changing some mechanics behind our back

Here’s a post by @thalfox https://thalfox.tumblr.com/post/653994972840919040/i-just-noticed-a-little-bit-ago-that-the-barbatos that dose a really good job at explaining everything that has changed

(also this isn’t a hate thing fox has actually done a great work explaining everything to good detail of what has changed)

With all the changes I don’t think that it’s shocking to say that players are leavening the fandom because of many reasons to the games getting stupidly harder to even the game development

This is just a heads up this in no way is a post saying “hey this is why you shouldn’t feel this way” I kinda just wanted to see from a business standpoint and be naïve of what’s happening you have every reason to be mad at Solomare because even me I’ve been playing sense week 2 of game released and I’m only on lesson 42 every counter argument that I’m going to make I have complained about at some point

Arguments

(P.s grammar is really bad it’s sort of turned into more of a rant I wrote this at 5 am without any sleep so sorry)

1. Obey me is marketed as a free to play game

First there are many reasons people are mad this main thing that I hear about is from a lot of people is that is a “free game” which lets be honest is ridiculously hard

But still it is still essentially a “free to play game” I personally feel like the main prolog is lessons 1-20 to introduce all the characters to understand and getting the just on how to play the game

Okay and now here’s where I sort of stand with obey me, the gatcha rates are kinda ridiculously lucky when you play for the first week you luck is so amazing and is in my experience with gatchas the best luck I have ever seen for games so it’s not really hard collecting the cards

Now are they the best absolutely no, this I feel like is where you might have to spend money unless they up the skills on the Nightmare A

But what Obey me is technically trying to do is obviously making you pay by releasing your favorite demon card every 2 week which…aren’t essential they are really just hoping that you love your main demon enough to pay

With the high increase on the gatcha rate there really isn’t a pity unless you count the card pieces (but I’m not going to count that because you are more likely to roll your UR before completing the pieces)

Now after lesson 20 once the huge break I feel like Obey me almost expecting the players to keep logging in any doing jobs and some players did do that and boy did it pay off

But those players have not needed to spend a single dollar and are all caught up

Now for everyone else who didn’t the game was so difficult it’s unimaginable and because for that a whole lot of players left the game and personally I don’t blame them because of how much impact the next lessons were

Now sort of like Mystic Messenger you really just have to grind you ass off log in everyday and do JOBS :D and grind but as hard and long as it is you are still able to be a f2p but where obey me fails is that when grinding Mystic Messenger grinding was a lot more fun for me it took about a whole year to just get 550 hourglasses even when I purchased and same with Genshin Inpact it takes a while but with obey me there isn’t really anything else to do once you get to a certain point which I think obey me really lacks and could be part of a reason why people left. Grinding just is not fun (now I do think that on a phone there is so much you can do with a app game but I feel like there could be a bit more they could do)

Personally I’m just going to come out and say it don’t spend your money for one UR card for your favorite demon it’s really not worth it now im one of those Mammon stans but if I ever wanted a specific card for instance the Mammon bunny card when it first came out I wanted it so badly and didn’t get it but I also knew there would eventually be a revival so I saved and did not spend any DV(demon vouchers) until the revival

The events

Some people complain about getting the cards in the events onestly for me this one kinda makes a bit of sense I noticed the first change when the Vampire even came out and how it wasn’t as easy to get the second card but if you think of it it makes sence why

When the first event came out (Santa event) you only had to collect about 30,000 gingerbread compared to the 100,000 in event today but when the first event came out no one was at high enough levels for the AP required and you would every day when times rest to gain gingerbread as well as there was only one part to the story so when people kept leveling up their AP Obey Me had to higher the bar so it wouldn’t be so easy to get all these cards and have a actual reward system but eventually they also added another story lesson starting at the Ruri Chan event

Second thing about the events is that one there started just getting plain out boring.

When lesson 20 finished and we were all waiting for season 2 I was still loving in everyday and logging in at 12 and 8 for the free 30 AP because I didn’t know what else to and would participate in the event but eventually what I think that all otome games that have constant events like Ikemen Vampire and Ikemen Revolution they just start getting repetitive and getting real boring so I stoped playing until there was something more interesting

The last thing that some people complain about the events is that you can’t keep up with the story and the events now I can’t find it but I believe that @0beyme said something about the events a long time ago about how you have to pick between the event and moving through the main story which I kinda think isn’t really the games fault and more just a discussion on maybe missing a event

Add ons

Okay so they did this from day 1 you spend a certain amount of Devil point that you guaranteed don’t have and get out a card

Now this is just spelling out a disaster

Yeah so for the first Charge Mission is when you log in which everyone had but essentially what they want you to do is spend $100 on a game that you just logged into and never experienced or played I don’t really understand what they were even thinking with that but it must’ve worked for them to keep doing them

The second time they did it was when the break was over and season 2 came out and they celebrated by doing another charge mission which was the Lucifer and Simon card which would cost again $100 again I really don’t understand what they were thinking

And now this is I believe the fourth time they have done this for the 1.5 anniversary where they know that Mammon is obviously a favorite for many Obey Me players and where smart to put it on the really stupid charge mission but the difference is, is that instead of it costing $100 it would cost almost $200(same with Levi’s) for one thing I don’t understand

But one thing that you do have to remember is is that this isn’t apart of the main gameplay it really just is a mini game if you would even call it that of dress up and optimization so still I guess would be just a add on that has no effect on the actual story and game so you could I guess still call it a f2p game with really really stupidly high priced add ons

VIP

Umm so I am the first one to call myself out I have bought the VIP package first when season 2 happened and I knew how much I loved the game so personally it was worth it to me to support the developers and gain something out of it

Now I haven’t really seen much complaints on the VIP because people more use it as a “hey the game is impossible with out VIP” but the people who say this ive noticed never bought it

For $9.99 each month it is 100%

IT IS NOT WORTH IT!!! Out of everything you get which honestly isn’t much you get some extra free space in jobs and really that’s it and if you choose to use all your job slots for the highest paying you get around 30,500 about a 10,000 difference not really worth it in my opinion

With VIP you also get other things like higher chance of gifts from Jobs which you will not notice one bit, and +20 AP (which if you play the events is sort of useful) as well as extra packages exclusive to VIPs so after paying $9.99 per month you also get more things to buy and that’s about it for VIP now if you really want to get more grim just use your AP and spend it of normal lessons you will get more AP that way

The Story and Kids

This could be all me just complaining and a theory by I wanted to include it anyway

Obviously many people are not even caught up or even playing but as more lessons went on the less interesting the story became to me I don’t know if it’s a me thing but season one was absolutely amazing the once season two came out it was good but not anywhere as good and one

One reason why I think that it to me became almost bland is the amount of kids that is on the app and how sensitive people were if anything bad happens

It’s no secret that the Japanese versions a lot more non-kid friendly for hell’s sake the characters don’t even swear as well as all the colors I feel like to a American audience bright colors is usually marketed towards kids but in other countriesI think many understand that that is not always the case for instance a lot of people will thing in America that anime is all for kids but I mean look at Attack on Titan or Tokyo Ghoul you would not let kids watch that of literal people getting brutally murdered you just don’t see things like that in the West where something looking kid friendly could also be very adult like

Also wtf dose this in the App Store say +12 with Ikemen Vampire and a lot of other games if you have a game rated +17 then there will be a actual pop up that says something along the lines of how “thier could be violence acts and sexual act are you sure you want to instal”

Now the story I’ve seen people point this out but there isn’t really much character development for instance Beel he dose not have a actual personality his personality (fight me on this one) all you really know about him is that he likes food and his family now I could be wrong cuz I’m on lesson 42 but still not much and this is kinda with all the characters except the special ones where the devs really favor and love for story

Some one mentioned how the developers hold back a lot which I agree with 100% they said how when there is character development they all the sudden pull back and never will almost talk about it again like ???? So there’s this constant bland story

——————-

Honestly if you liked this I might do more cuz as much as this post made me especially at the end I kinda liked ranting so...yeah there is also many other things that I want to rant about but I’m tired soooo

feel free to comment your opinions btw

Bye ima go sleep now

#obey me #obey me shitpost #shall we date #shall we date lucifer #leviathan #obey me shall we date #lucifer #obey me beelzebub #shall we date mammon #obey me swd #obey me mammon #ikevamp #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #shall we date belphie #belphie

[penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories]

No Matter How Many Skies Have Fallen

A/N: I really have nothing to say for myself at this point. 

Sequel chapter to this fic here, if you’d like to catch up. 

Thank you to @caffeine-in-an-iv​ for being my incredible beta and to @maybege​ for letting me rant to you and giving me so many wonderful ideas when I hit my walls. Also to the Obi-Wan fandom in general: Y’all are some of the kindest, most supportive people I’ve ever encountered on this hell site. Thank you for your support and your content! 

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Force Sensitive! Fem! Reader (no Y/N)

Word Count: 11.9K (I lost all control) 

Warnings: SMUT!!! Soft Dom! Obi rights, Also, Sub! Obi vibes, Foodplay (but not how you’d think), Inappropriate use of the Force, Voice Kink, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Hands Appreciation Society, As Usual: Too Many Feelings For Porn, Emotional Competence Kink, Trust Kink, TW: Pregnancy, TW: A character draws blood on themself unknowingly

Title from one of my favorite quotes:

“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

-D.H. Lawrence

What infinite irreverence the galaxy has for Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

As if his master and only semblance of a parent wasn’t taken from him when he needed him most.

As if a boy who needed a father wasn’t entrusted to Obi-Wan quickly following, far too young and full of his own loss. 

As if he wasn’t thrust onto the pedestal of parenthood when he really only wanted to be a brother. 

As if that isn’t what they became anyway, and as if that wasn’t the exact cloud that hung over the atmosphere of your lives ever since you’d arrived on Tatooine. 

As if the being whose life signature resided in your abdomen didn’t throw a punch into each of those blooming bruises by its very existence.

Which is why, you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you couldn’t tell him yet. 

Normally, it’d be no small feat to keep something of this scale from him. But these days, he’s so focused on having his shields up around you, keeping you from both being hurt by or helping with his torments. 

You have to take great care to control your body language, because even when he’s shut off from you in the Force, his keen perceptiveness will pick up on something being off anyway.

The art of a convincing lie is having layers. If he senses your feelings and decides to dig, then only give up one layer, and he’ll stop looking.

 In this case, it’s your worry over him. It is true you’re trying to shield him from feeling that, not wanting him to carry the burden of it on top of having to work through his own pain.

  But it’s not everything you’re trying to hide from him. So you let a small projection of your fear over his well-being escape, like you’re losing control of your feelings. It’s enough to convince him, and something critical inside you dies at the victory every time.

 He deserves your honesty, and you’ve never given him anything less until now.

 You hate how well your strategic deceit takes root. Because only part is due to your talent as a liar. The rest comes from how much he trusts you.

  You’re not stupid, though. You know it’s only a matter of time before the biological changes in your body betray you. 

Obi-Wan said he needed time, and you’re going to give him as long as you possibly can before dropping this anvil on him, hoping the further he gets from it all, the better off he’ll be. 

You could kick yourself for not being more careful. You hadn’t missed any dose of your herbal Ho’Din contraceptive. It was one of the few things you shoved in your bag with the mere minutes you had to leave Coruscant for good. It was from a reliable medicinal shop, and there’s no good reason it should have failed in any way.

But here you were anyway. 

Of course, there are options that free you from the obligation of carrying the child to term. All are expensive, and Tatooine is sorely lacking in any trustworthy medical facilities. The alternative methods could put your own life in danger as well. 

Even if it wasn’t, you’d feel so strange making that kind of decision without Obi-Wan. Not that he wouldn’t support whatever decision you needed to make for yourself if you did, but going behind his back is something you’re not sure his trust could recover from. 

And really, far too much has been decided for him in his life. 

The worst reason why you can’t bring yourself to move towards any solution that ends the pregnancy now, the reason you abhor, is because somewhere within you, despite the awfulness of the time and place, you want this baby. 

You couldn’t give a definitive explanation for yourself, but you did. Undoubtedly

Obi-Wan doesn’t press when you ask to cease your combat training for a time, asking to start learning the new offerings of the Jedi texts instead. 

He’s concerned when you tell him, but if he’s suspicious as for your reasoning, he doesn’t show it outwardly, at least. 

The way he doesn’t even ask about why, though: It makes you wonder if he had a reason all of his own why he’d rather not fight, even in imitation.

The Jedi writings given to Obi-Wan by Master Yoda are often more cryptic and mystifying than logically applicable without deciphering, which you are at first annoyed by, but then strangely thankful for, as Obi-Wan verbally processes his understandings of it, knowing what he does of the Jedi way, and you adding your thoughts from the stance of fresh eyes. 

The conversations distract wonderfully, and you savor any way you still get to connect with him.

You don’t push for the ways he doesn’t allow you to connect with him anymore. The way he won’t let you in his mind. Because now, you too have a reason to not let him in yours. 

*******

When it’s time to go into town for supplies again, you make up some feeble excuse which you know Obi-Wan sees through as a lie, and this time, he does pry, eyes soft and concerned. He knows you love going to the markets. You simply explain that you’re tired, which is true enough to satisfy him, leaving you behind with a kiss on your forehead before you watch him saddle up your eopie and ride off.

You sigh, sagging against the closed door once he’s disappeared into the horizon. You do love the markets. They’re the most colorful thing the planet has to offer, textiles and rugs and shiny, hanging things. 

But the spices. Fragrant and potent, usually so appetizing and intoxicating, you know would turn your stomach alone. And that doesn’t even account for the strange meats being cooked at different vendors, and Maker help you if anyone was selling raw meat of any sort today. You’ve done your best to keep your nausea at bay, at times even tapping into the Force for centering when the world felt like it was rocking. But you know the market would be too much, too many variables.

It’s not a fast journey, even on the eopie, and you don’t expect Obi-Wan to be back for hours. Which is why when you hear a knock on your door, the tool in your hand clatters to the floor, as does the remnants of your project. 

You quickly grab one of the long staffs you and Obi-Wan had only begun to use in your defense training, trying to recall the lessons as adrenaline begins to rush through your veins. Tatooine isn’t known for its pleasant company, and if anyone was going to try to rob your home, now would be as good a time as any. 

The knock sounds again, and you shout from the inside, “What do you want?!” 

“A peace treaty in the form of baked goods,” comes the feminine voice, one you recognize. 

Opening the door, you lower the weapon in your hand as Beru Lars blinks at you.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were…” You step aside, gesturing for her to come in.

She waves a hand, dismissive. “I understand.”

You lead her over to the small living area as you fix two glasses of water from the kitchen. 

When you set them down on the table, Beru speaks. “I apologize for the intrusion, if there was another way of contacting you before coming here…”

“It’s absolutely fine, I’m glad to have you.” You smile in what you hope is an assuring way.  “Although, I’m surprised at it just being you. Where’s Owen?”

Her eyes flick to the stone floor. “He um… doesn’t exactly know I’m here. He’s out on a business deal today.” 

You feel your eyebrows go up at that, waiting for her to continue. But instead, she changes the subject. “Where’s Ben?” 

“In town. We needed some things from the market.”

Awkwardness settles in as a conversation topic evades you. 

She breaks the beat of quiet. “Here, I brought these for you.”

You take the basket in her hands from her, peeling back the thick woven cloth to reveal a simple form of bread. It looks so appetizing your stomach clenches, and you instantly realize you haven’t had anything since breakfast. 

But then the smell hits you, hard and powerful, and stars, it’s just bread, there’s nothing that should do that about bread, but you’re on your feet in a minute, forsaking the basket on the ground as you bolt to the fresher, barely making it in time to the sonic sink before you start heaving. 

In a moment, you feel soft hands at the nape of your neck, gently holding back the fabric of your shirt and blowing cool air as you continue to wretch. 

By the time everything has settled again, you’ve dealt with the aftertaste in your mouth, and splashed on your face with a precious cup of cool water, hot shame rises in your cheeks at how this must seem to Beru. 

You wipe at your face with a rag, half muffling your words when you address her. “I’m so sorry, I’m sure they’re absolutely delicious, It really has nothing to do…” 

“How far along are you?”

Your spine straightens instantly, and you let the cloth drop to the floor.

“I… what?”

Now she’s the one to flush. “My apologies, it’s just that it’s known for being a very gentle bread, it’s one my mother used to feed me when my stomach ached. If that smell turned you... I just assumed, and I shouldn’t have.” 

Your lips purse as you consider your options. It’d be easy to say nothing, or just to nod. 

“Two months,” you hear your own voice answer despite yourself. You’ve never been one for easy anyway.

A surge of emotion wells up in you at even being able to speak it aloud, aloud to another human, and next thing you know, to your absolute horror, you’re crying into your hands as your shoulders crumple in on themselves. 

Why now, of all times? In front of Beru Lars? Whom you know accepted Luke with her husband without question because they couldn’t biologically have any children of their own? 

“I’m… so… sorry,” You manage to choke out through the sobs, disgusted at your own lack of control.

At some point Beru must join you on the floor, patting her hand soothingly on your back. “Shhh, it’ll be alright. You’ll see. It’s not so bad having a young one around, you and Ben have so much to look forw…”

“He doesn’t know.” 

Her hand pausing briefly on your back is the only indication she gives of shock.

“Would he not be happy?”

You take a steadying breath in, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t know,” you whisper, small and almost frightened to let the room hear you say it.

It falls silent again, but it echoes around in your brain, bouncing against your thoughts until you feel the onset of a headache.

After you’re to a numb enough state to enjoy yourself, you and Beru make tea and bring it back to the living area. 

She lifts her glass to yours, clinking them. “To secrets kept from men and the mischievous company they bring.”

Your head now throbs with pain, but you smile anyway. “Thank you,” you say to her, and you mean it so very much.

********

The next time Obi-Wan goes into town, you’re feeling well enough to go with him. 

You’re not visiting the food portion of the market, after all, so you’re not as much of a risk to set your stomach off. He’s taken to fixing small machinery for trading with the Jawas recently, the extra income helping with the projects around the house. 

There’s a trap door that you found within the first day of being there. The staircase carved out of the bedrock beneath the hut leads to a small room that has now served as additional storage and a place for Obi-Wan to work. It’s also quite cool during the day, so if you can stand the smell of the various meats hung to dry, you’ll sit down there with some sort of project, or even reading material if you come upon it.

So today, he’s looking for a few specific tools that will streamline his working. 

It doesn’t take long to find a promising stall among the maze of shopkeepers, selling everything from trinkets to weaponry of questionable legality. Obi-Wan finds what he needs easily enough, and it looks like the trip is going to be as efficient as it is successful as you walk through alleyways with him. 

At some point, he takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently, projecting an assuring strand of affection toward you. It’s such a small gesture, but you’ll never tire of the feeling of his hand clasped in yours. 

You’re almost back to where the eopie, Rooh, as he named her, is stabled when Obi-Wan abruptly slows his pace, dropping into a stall. An alarm goes off in your head when you watch him pick up a frivolous trinket on a table that you know he has no interest in. 

You open your mouth to inquire at his actions, but it answers itself once you see him glance out of his peripheral vision to where the holonews plays in the stall adjacent. 

Battle footage on what you recognized to be Kashyyk at the presence of the many Wookies plays with the Emperor addressing the viewers in a very two-dimensional, sugar-coated, thinly-concealed threat to any other world that would try to resist occupation.

There’s wreckage and uncensored violence, and you turn your head away. 

“May it be known that Lord Vader is quite capable and willing to help those into compliance that require assistance... “

The item in his hands crushes, ceramic tile cracking into his hands, breaking the skin and drawing out drips of red.

But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even seem to register the glass he’s pushing into his own hand. His eyes are wide and he makes a wounded noise from the back of his throat, eyes peeled to the holonews now, not even trying to feign disinterest.

His signature sparks, giving a flash and then a severe cry of anguish, and it hits you then. Pieces of information coming together as you feel Obi-Wan tear apart at seams. 

Anakin Skywalker turned to the Dark Side, and Obi-Wan thought him dead. There’s a new Sith Lord now; the correlation and timing can’t be coincidence. 

The Toydarian male behind the stall shouts something about paying for it in full, and you quickly hand over the credits with a glare.

You start to pull Obi-Wan’s other hand off the table, but you quickly realize your mistake in that.

The moment it isn’t holding his weight anymore, his knees start to give, and you’ve only a second to react, jamming your body under his arm to keep him upright. His momentum nearly pulls you forward, but you plant your feet and remember at the last second to call on the Force to assist you.

He seems to come to himself enough to walk somewhat as you steer him to the nearest alley away from the vendors.

He braces a hand on the stone wall, but even it isn’t enough as he drops to his knees. He doesn’t even seem to have the will to stand.

Crouching beside him, you place one of your hands on his chest. 

“I…. I…” The tremor in his usually so crisp wording and steady voice crushes your chest, making it hard to breathe. “I failed him. I failed him.” 

“Obi-Wan,” you start, trying to grasp at anything, everything to comfort him, not even thinking of how you can’t call him that here, even if there’s no one in sight.

If he registers your call, he doesn’t let on, continuing in his whispers to the wall.  “He was burning. Burning, but I couldn’t do it. It would have been mercy to kill him, it was my mandate to do it, but I could not...” his voice gives out on the last word, and his shoulders fall forward in a shuddering inhale that transforms into a cut-short sob on its exhale.

“And now…” as the words pour from him, his shields fall, and so do the floodgates on his emotions, and it takes all the training you know to not be washed away in the torrential current of his grief. Does he even know he’s doing it, or has the insurmountable weight of his burden finally overridden his innate control over them?

“I’ve sentenced him to a fate worse than death.” He’s only barely choked out the end of his thought before his shoulders start to shake in earnest and he crumples in on himself as he begins to weep for his brother.

Giving no heed to the odd angle, you throw your arms around him. Trying to get your arms around his body is exactly the embodiment of the feeling of the moment, this anguish you don’t even begin to be enough to cover. 

What could you say? What could you do? What would even begin to… 

When you press your fingers to his temple, it’s light, a show of how unforced this is, how much he can say no if he needs.  Because this isn’t for you. No, it’d be so much easier to not know the exact depth of his pain and rip your chest open with that knowledge. But you’re offering it,  meaning it absolutely, desperate for him to take the hand offered to him. “Please let me in. Don’t do this alone. Let me…”

Then he’s pulling you in, not just letting you come in yourself, clinging to you like a person drowning. You remember to steady, to try to keep your own head above the water as wave after surging, overpowering wave of soul-crippling agony like you’ve never felt it engulf you in their surge.

You can’t hold out against it no matter how hard you try, so you refocus from centering yourself to pulling his signature into yours as you wrap your arms tighter around his torso. 

 And you begin to weep with him.

 *********

 The suns are drifting low by the time both of you have any intelligible thought, far too late to start the journey back to the hut. 

At the inn, as Obi-Wan falls into the beginnings of a restless sleep, a thought emerges, clear and crisp in its awful truth. 

 You cannot tell him for a long while still. 

 *******

 It’s different now. Because when he wakes in the night, he doesn’t give you falsehoods you see right through. He lets you into the terror and distortional dreams that all reside over one theme.  

There’s silence in the first days after. Just silent tears and still embraces and the way time seems to freeze when grief is at its worst.

But then he starts talking. It comes in little pieces, then in larger ones.  

The loudest thing his signature screams is guilt.

You tell him how it isn’t his fault, how Anakin is responsible for his own choices, but he just gives you a new reason every time as to why it is his fault, how he could have stopped it. 

Because even in what he considers his worst failure, his verbiage is indicative of how it’s not his own image and pride hurting that he’s even considered. All of his thoughts, all of them, are on what Anakin needed that he didn’t give.

 At first, it’s just impressions from his mind, unsorted, blurry thoughts and feelings, but it eventually begins to become words. 

“After his mother died… I know that he blamed me. How couldn’t he? He told me of his dreams, dreams he knew were foresights, but I dismissed them, multiple times, at that. And the council… advised me against comforting him, but he… I… I did anyway.” His shoulders are forward, body sagging with unsureness that doesn’t fit him right in the slightest. “But it was far too late. I know there was something pivotal about the death of his mother, and I am...” he hesitates, seemingly not because he doesn’t know what to speak, but because he does. “Terrified. Terrified it’s all because I didn’t validate him sooner. If I had not...” His voice breaks off, as he shuts his eyes.

Fear is not something admired by the Jedi, you know. When he speaks of his own emotions, he speaks them like he’s confessing them.

 And as he confesses and confesses, you comfort where you can, cry with him when you cannot.

 *****

 The swells of sorrow ebb and flow in their intense bursts and receding stillness, and despite the moments of not being able to breathe under the weight of it, there are miniscule, almost violating, hysterical intervals where smiles and life spring to the surface, gasping for air. 

Or in this case, the inexplicable desire to dance. 

You don’t even really know when you start, simply going about cleaning clothing in the sonic washer, and the next, some ridiculous, repetitive tune sweeps you to move your hips and feet, uncoordinated and graceless. The tune itself played from a datachip, scrapped with some pieces Obi-Wan was repurposing to make repairs. You’re not even familiar with the type of music, and it’s hardly the type of music you’d normally choose, but you find that today, it’s an improvement on the quiet that falls upon the house as Obi-Wan works outdoors. 

The song swings into a bridge, and you slide across the stone floor, imitating something you saw in a music holo years ago, as you do, your foot catches on the rug you recently added, sending you fumbling for your footing. You eventually catch it before you fall, but as you look up, you decide to lower yourself to the ground anyway at the sight of Obi-Wan, leaning up against the door frame, watching you with an amused expression, the fingers of one hand tracing between his lips and chin.  

You sit splayed as tactless and gangly as you danced and let out a short, startled laugh. 

“Please, don’t stop on my account. I was quite enjoying myself.”  

Maker, could you just hide under the rug you tripped over? “Please tell me you haven’t been standing there long.”

He pushes off his lean on the wall, crossing the room to you. “I won’t tell you lies, my love.” 

Shame twists in your gut at his words, chasing the laughter in your throat away. But Obi-Wan extends a hand down, and you take it, letting him draw you to your feet. 

He kisses the back of your hand before taking it in his, extending the clasp out to the side of your bodies as his other hand rests hot on the small of your waist. 

“But I will join you, if you don’t mind a style change.” 

“I don’t know how to dance like this,” you say, factually.  

“Then allow me to teach you.” When you look in his eyes, they’re lined with the etches of heartache still, but there’s something else too, brimming to the surface. 

“What, to this music?” You give your last, unconvincing protest.  

He simply drops his forehead to yours, and the small sounds of the room fade to white as a sweet, moving melody replaces it. It’s not perfectly clear, and it takes a moment to realize that it’s because it’s coming from Obi-Wan’s memory.  

The music has a distant, foggy quality, and it has potential to be eerie, but instead, it just lifts you into an ethereal feeling.

He steps, and your feet follow, not as graceful, but he makes it easy for you, the steps hinted out in his thoughts before taking them in actuality. 

When you start to feel confident enough in the movements, you look up at him. “Does this mean I can teach you my dances next?”

He laughs, laughs, unabashed and with no emotion harbored under it, and some torn piece of your heart mends at the sound.

“Certainly not.” 

You laugh too, even at the thought of him trying. The laugher rolls into a smooth quiet, and you let yourself bask in the feel of his body against yours, the press of his hand on your back as you rest your cheek against him. 

Obi-Wan cradles you to him, forsaking the pattern of the dance as he encompasses you in his arms, lowering his lips to your cheek, then your mouth in a blazing kiss. 

He takes your hand in his, lifting it above your head. Then you’re guided into a spin, and the room spins double with it as you abandon all endeavors of trying to get the dance correct. Your hand drops protectively to your belly before you can even think better of it, and by the time you know you’re not going to throw up, it’s too late. You already feel Obi-Wan’s unmistakable concern right before he asks, “What’s wrong?” extending an arm out toward you. 

His complexion is ashen with worry, and when you don’t respond, you feel him start to reach out to your mind; a spike of panic zaps down your spine, and you’re suddenly not sure you’re not going to throw up after all. 

Your shields crash down, not enough time for subtlety, and he retracts both his hand and inquiring tendril of energy as hurt and confusion shape his features. 

You can’t do this. You can’t keep up this facade or cover this moment with a lie you know he’ll see through. But you can’t tell him either. After all the weight he’s carrying, the weight of the being that grows in you should be yours alone. You can’t thrust that upon him. 

But it’s a delusion that you can keep this from him forever. You’re going to hurt him one way or another, and the weight of your silence and lies multiply every day you insulate him from the truth. 

You take in a shuddering breath as dread settles into your bones. You know what you have to do.

Even as you slowly lower your shields, opening your signature, your mind screams at you in opposite directions, ripping you in half, and your hand shoots out to the nearest wall to stabilize yourself. How could you be so sadistic to tell him this? How could you not tell him? After all the trust you have in each other?

But he doesn’t take the invitation. “I will not touch your mind if you are still unsure you want me to,” he says softly but resolutely as he approaches you, but stays an unthreatening distance away, as if approaching a frightened animal. 

No, no, no. You won’t have him being the one to sturdy you through this. You need to be strong, be ready, don’t force him to coddle you through the blast to his own chest. 

So you dial down your own emotions and switch your absorption to amplifying the still tiny, barely recognizable life you’ve been carefully censoring ever since you heard it yourself.

You want to close your eyes, blockade the pain of both how it impacts him and how it will impact you, but that’s not how you two do things.

Summoning every iota of bravery and resolve running in your veins, you force yourself to look up at him as you watch understanding coat him. 

His eyes go wide, and his hands clench and flex at his sides in an erratic, nervous pattern. 

You can’t keep your signature open to his mind’s reaction, you just can’t. He’s seen enough, and you can put your shields up again. His face is enough to confront all on its own.

Obi-Wan steps toward you, slowly, dazed in a completely uncharacteristic way. With the way he seems to ever be prepared for the blows life throws at him, you hate how you have to be the harbinger for the second one that’s knocked him off his feet.

When he stops in front of you, he places his hands on either of your shoulders and looks into your eyes, searching for confirmation, and you nod, trying to not let fear seep into your expression.

One of his hands covers his mouth as he takes it in. 

And then he’s sinking in front of you, off of his feet indeed, and onto his knees. You want to follow, ready to hold him through the heartache sure to follow, at the second child he didn’t ask for while he still grieves the loss of the first. 

But his hands instead take purchase on your stomach, tightening the fabric of your tunic around the barely-visible bump before bunching it up and lifting, just enough so he can tilt his forehead against the skin there. 

You can feel him reaching out, not taking him long at all to find what he’s searching for, and curiosity beats self-preservation at the last moment, prompting you to open your mind again, just for you to be able to catch elation coursing through Obi-Wan.

You don’t even bother trying to stifle your confusion as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.

Sinking to your knees to meet him, you take his face in your hands, trying to make sense of it all as he takes your hand in his. “I never... “ when his voice comes out unsteady, he clears his throat and tries again. “I never thought I’d have... That we could… didn’t occur to me that now...stars above, how long have you known?”

You don’t recall when you start crying, but tears are falling freely down your cheeks as you shake your head. “I’m so sorry. I… I would never want to keep something like this from you, Obi-Wan, but I couldn’t tell you, not with everything, not with all you already have…and i’m so sorry.”

“Oh, heavens, no. You should not have to do this alone. Please don’t keep things from me, even if you think it to be for my sake. We can…”

You fix him with a pointed, unamused stare. He exhales as he must notice his hypocrisy. 

“Your point is well-put and taken, but the sentiment still stands. We’ll not keep secrets from each other anymore. Do we have an accord?”

Despite it all, you smile at his overly-formal phrasing, something you’d normally have a quip about if it weren’t for the concern still nagging at you.

“Are you not angry then? Or disappointed?” you watch him carefully, praying to any deity listening that he doesn’t concoct some half truth to placate you. His first instinct is always to protect, but you’d never want it at expense of his authenticity. 

Bafflement marks his brow at first, then he takes your face in his hands. “Darling, no.” He says your name, gathering every bit of your attention. “I dreamt of you. During the war, when I was away. I did not sleep well, even then, but when I did, I’d sometimes dream of you, holding a child that I knew to be ours. When I woke, I would remember it so vividly, so painfully, because I never thought that was an attainable future for us.”

But that doesn’t need to matter if you… do you want this child?” His eyes are so full of hope, and it was the last thing you expected, but here he is laying it down on the altar of your preference, and maker, are you glad those two things aren’t opposing each other. 

Because his hope and yours are one in the same, and once he knows it too, at your whispering, choked, “yes,” he’s clutching you in his arms.

And for the second time in a month, you’re both huddled on the ground in tears. The first, bowing under the mass of catastrophe. Now, at the glowing relief of the sprouting of a dream sown in tears, too tender before to even say aloud.

But now? You’re saying it, back and forth, from him to you as your walls fall, permitting him into your mind as he welcomes you into his, and finally you take true comfort once again in the home you’ve built in each other. 

*******

The night after, you lie side by side, hand in hand, on a blanket splayed not far from the hut. The suns have sunken, but the pinks and oranges of their palette still paint the sky where it hasn’t yet turned to midnight cobalt. The light of the lantern gives off a similar hue, dousing everything in your reach in soft, warm hues.

It has taken Obi-Wan some convincing, being so out in the open with everything he had to worry about wasn’t his first choice, but you compromised for a small alcove in the rock formations which surrounded you on two sides. More easily defensible. Not that he needed it, but if he was cautious before, it was borderline unbearable now. With the added danger of the Empire knowing without doubt that he lived.  With more than ever to lose. 

So, he was in charge of safety, you were in charge of snacks. And if they so happened to be almost entirely comprised of those melons you couldn’t quite get enough of lately? That was no one’s business except yours. You brought a few things you knew Obi-Wan liked too, of course. 

What little remains of the miscellaneous spread you push to the edge of the blanket so you can both lie down. 

“I dare say it’s almost pleasant out tonight.”

You turn your head to him, a snort ready at him discussing the weather of all things, but it instead forms a cloud in your throat at the sight of him. 

His eyes are closed, hair rustling in the slight evening breeze, a tranquil ease over his profile. 

The small patches of grey in the part of his beard next to his ears catch the first glints of moonlight in a way the rest of his hair doesn’t, giving them away. 

The mellisonant lowness of his voice brings you back to yourself, cheeks heating. 

“I can feel you staring, little one.”  He opens his eyes, leisurely rolling to his side. “Some say it’s quite impolite.” Slanting over you, he lifts a brow, daring your response.

“And is that a problem?” You look up at him through your eyelashes, feigning innocence. 

Obi-Wan’s gaze follows back up to the stars, as he plays right along, pretending to have to think on it. “I suppose it depends.” 

“On?”

“On whether or not you allow me to return the impropriety,” he responds with a coy smile, moving back to you, so close now you can feel his exhales on your cheek. 

Warmth blooms through you as you answer back, “You can always look, Obi-Wan.” You lift yourself to close the short distance between your face and his, pressing your lips together, which he deepens right away. Using the hand not supporting half his body off of you still, he fans out his fingers across your belly, towing the line between caressing gently and clutching protectively. 

You pull your lips back from his as an uninvited slither of insecurity slips into your chest. 

He senses it, of course, so you speak before he even needs to ask. “Are you really, truly, certain this is what you want? Now? I don’t want you to just say so because…and we could wait, we have...”

“I am,” he says, adamantly, before you even have a chance to finish. His eyes flash to the side. “I…” He rolls back onto his back, looking straight up as he talks seemingly half to you, half to himself. “There is not much I know for certain these days. Some days… I scarcely can remember who I am anymore.” 

He turns his eyes back to you, unwavering. “There are seldom few things I haven’t questioned of late, and my love for you isn’t one of them. And from the moment I’ve known, from the very first instant you let me feel the life within you, my love for them hasn’t been one either.” 

Your thoughts split into two, one wanting to lean into it, to take him for his word that’s always true, and the other cautioning you, telling you to keep distant and watch for the surface level honesty he gives that hides the brutal one he safeguards you from. 

But you’re not hiding anymore, feelings unconcealed in your energy and on your face, so he leans back into you, grasping your arm in his hand, squaring your shoulders to him. You cringe at yourself when you know he’s heard the impression of you questioning. It’s redundant, but self-doubt always is. “Know, please know, my darling.” Taking your hand in his, he brings it up to his temple with an insistence that you have no desire to counter. 

And it’s there. Right there and sparking in its clarity, right at the threshold of his mind as you enter it. How much he means his words, no holds barred, no cleverly crafted glazes to an unly underbelly of reality. His reality was this, how severely he craves starting a family with you. How much he already loves the being within you, how he looks forward to the day he gets to hold them in his arms. 

The fear is there too, quiet, but not kept from you. The fear of failing as a father, unsure of assuming any role that resembled a mentor again, all-too-familiar with the ghost that will float over him in every lesson he teaches. 

What shocks you there is his faith in you. In how much he’s already learned from you about the impact of open affection, in how you don’t let your feelings lead you, but you let them breathe, not suffocate them. It’s part of how he even can acknowledge his fears to himself and to you without berating himself under the too-simple phrase “fear leads to the dark side.” There’s truth in it, but also inaccuracy. 

Because he’s afraid, and yet, there is so much light in the acknowledging of it to himself, and in that very act, it loses much of any power it could have had over him. Oh, how deeply he wishes he could have articulated that understanding to Anakin. 

The pain is fresh, but so is his anticipation for the future, swirling together in a potent drink, and his throat bobs with the effort to swallow them down simultaneously. 

He knows you’ll help ground him through it, he trusts you, even in his uncertainty in himself.

It breaks your heart but also warms it: the knowledge that he lets you into that place where he keeps the questions of himself, the place only you and the man who’s caused most of this doubt have been permitted. 

 With a thankful short farewell, you part from his mind as you know exactly what you want to do.

The remains of your snacks still rest on the edge of the blanket, including the shells of the deep purple-pigmented melons. The one draw-back to their delightful taste was how badly they stained your fingers. You had to break them into tiny pieces, plopping them into your mouth without allowing them to touch your lips unless you wanted your mouth to stain too. 

But right now? The staining quality was just what you needed. 

Although first you needed a blank canvas. 

“May I take your tunics off?” you ask, sitting up. 

Despite a short twitch of confusion and then interest, Obi-Wan follows, raising himself up into a kneel, slightly lifting his arms in compliance. 

The paleness of his skin catches all the light of the lantern, highlighting your view as you slowly slide the fabric up and off, gliding your hands up the line of hair dipping below his navel as it becomes more exposed. It grants you a quiet, steep intake of breath from him and you suddenly give halt momentarily, distracted by the alluring appetite you’ve created. 

No, you won’t give in. Not yet. He needs to know this. 

You take one of the broken pieces of melon rind in your hand, where little tart bits of the fruit still cling, dribbling pigment, but before your finger makes contact with the taut skin of his chest, you pull back at the realization you might have bitten off more than you can chew. 

How do you even begin to describe him? Obi-Wan is so many things at once, so many attributes, and every descriptor that comes to mind falls blatantly short of him. 

Then you recall Obi-Wan going through the motions of Alchaka, watching his body fight to maintain the poses at times. Being such a personal practice, you felt honored that he let you see him go through the exercises, and even more honored that he opened up to you about the purpose behind it later. It was an exercise of both physicality and Force use, and the goal was absolute exhaustion. That was the destination. Trying, knowing from the start that he’ll fall short in the end, but doing it all the same. Because there’s so, so much to be said for the trying.

So you do. You bring the messy fingertip to his clavicle, smearing the first word you know to absolutely be true of him, as if starting the premise with a whisper of I know you’re even more than the sum all of these singular praises. 

The word “complex” appears in your penmanship on his skin as you drag it to life. You look up to his eyes, and his curiosity is clear there, but also so is the tenderness that is elemental to any time he looks at you. And just like that, you have your next word.

Kind.

And at the way he flushes so lovely for you at that?

Beautiful. 

You feel his protest before you see it, the objection in his signature, and you know you’re going to have to switch methods. 

Just then, a droplet from where you’ve written the last word on his pectoral falls, down, down, threatening toward the hem of his trousers, but you’re fast, dropping your mouth down and catching it all on your tongue before it can stain the bleached beige of his remaining clothing. 

When his stubborn revolt at the affirmation quiets in his mind in exchange for a flash of searing lust, you know exactly how you’re going to continue. 

Because Obi-Wan Kenobi, general, warrior, negotiator, Jedi Master, legend, has rarely ever been affirmed as such, and he squirms under the thick blanket of his humility and deprivation anytime someone endeavors. 

So you need his mind to be preoccupied enough, guards down low enough, so he can even hear the message get through.

When you place your hands over his waistband, locking eyes in inquiry, stopping when he hesitates, scanning the area around you, vigilant as always. Overly so now. 

“We’re alone. And wouldn’t you be able to sense it if we weren’t?” 

He looks down at you as he answers. “If I stay mindful enough to do so, yes.” 

Good, he’ll be even less prone to fight you if he has some of his mind sensing outward.

You look back up at him with the facial equivalent of asking “well?” to which Obi-Wan sighs in response. “Very well then.”

With your familiarity with ridding him of clothing, it only takes moments before you can finally taste him where you want to, where he’s already hard and swollen for you. 

 You know you won’t be able to take him as much as you want, a recently-developed overactive gag reflex preventing you. But it just so happens to be convenient tonight, as the resulting taunt should have him right where you want him.

A gentle kiss, right to the head of his cock is all the warning you give him before taking the whole tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around him, pulling a choked hum deep from his throat. 

Oh, oh, Maker, have you done a grand miscalculation, because you forgot an entire factor in this equation: the way you have been borderline hysterical in hunger for him.

You’ve kept so much from him, and part of how you’ve even managed is starting to convince yourself of less than fact. Facts like how many times you’ve had to change underthings recently, physical evidence of desire unwilling to comply to your head’s demands. Facts like how you’ve literally had to bite your finger to keep the feelings at bay. 

You’d expected changes in your body even before your belly grew, but this was one you hadn’t anticipated. In some ways, it wasn’t that different than usual. You never knew you could want someone with the breadth that you want Obi-Wan. 

But this? Of late? It feels like it’s been amplified tenfold. 

You’re not keeping any cards close to your chest anymore, but you do have to ignore your own body’s screaming cries as you complete this.

He needs to know. 

Nerves still serenading his brain with feedback, you re-wet your finger with the purple juice and write the next words across his abdomen. 

Wise.

Perceptive.

He’s caught on to your scheme by now, cued by the all-too appropriate addition of the last word, and he lets you know it, an impression projected, speechless but still unobstructed. He’s still powerless against it. Or rather, letting himself be powerless. Trusting you with the control he has left, trusting you in his vulnerable places. The places where he’s weak.

Strong.

The word spread over his right upper arm, where he’s obviously just that. But may the tint of the word bleed through his skin, may it run through his veins, because that’s how deep and deeper still that his strength runs. It’s in the way he doesn’t flaunt it. It’s in the way he chooses to wield it. 

Gentle. 

He closes his eyes, flinching at the onslaught of acclamation, and you dip your head down again, wrapping your lips around his cock, letting him slide to where you can take him comfortably, just starting to build a pace as his hips squirm in harmony with his suddenly erratic breaths. Oh, how you’d love to let him deeper, allow his cock past your lips beyond the teasing amount you can take now, but the little writhes his body gives in protest are enough to almost make you okay with how your mouth won’t agree with your ambitions. He says your name, groaned out in bliss as he cups a hand on your cheek.

His barriers are down, so it’s easy to hear when his deprecating thoughts quiet again, and you switch back to coloring him again. 

You know the moment you look up at him that it’s a mistake, because he’s flushed, so torn, suspended in the limbo of your give and withdrawal, mouth ever so slightly open, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 

You’re only human, so before you draw anything else, you bring your lips to his, which is yet another mistake, because among the many things Obi-Wan is, he is a deep kisser, and as his tongue delves into your mouth, your will power takes a devastating blow. 

You pull back, reeling at the reminder of how easily he can take back control, knowing you have to complete this before you let him. 

Stars, how you want to let him. 

For now, you need that control back, so you take him into your mouth again, filthily wet and not nearly long enough as you quickly pull back, watching in satisfaction as he heaves forward at the loss, correcting himself quickly back into straight posture. 

With a smirk, you drag your slippery, pigmented finger across his lower stomach. 

Disciplined.

There’s so many more words, so much more he needs to know, and if you covered every inch of his skin in the smallest writing it still wouldn’t be sufficient of all that he is. 

Or you could whisper it all through the Force, embed it all in his mind. 

But because you’ve been there, know his mind inside and out, you know every time he sees his own skin, all he sees is the red of blood on his hands. The blood of his brother. 

And that’s exactly why you’re going to stain it in your own colors. Take back territory and push back the front lines that the army of guilt has taken over on him. 

Your Jedi, ever-adorned in unassuming beige, now drips in the color of royalty.

Charming.

Humble. 

Confident. 

Steadfast. 

You’re only left with enough space for one more word, and you want some sort of conclusion to it all, something to summarize the expanse of the man kneeling in front of you. 

Nothing can. 

But maybe, just maybe, one word encapsulates what he is to you. 

Treasure. 

This time you do chant it across his thoughts, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you.

Cerulean blue blinks open, slowly, almost painfully and nearly overflowing with emotion. 

Thank you, is all he says, unable or unwilling to say it out loud, much too heartfelt and newly-budded for that.

You know his pain has older roots than those tended to in this moment, but you vow to yourself that you’ll never stop trying. 

Lowering your mouth around him once again, you don’t tease him anymore, at least not intentionally, even though you still can’t take more than half of him. 

“Look at you, you’re…” he hisses in a breath as you swipe your tongue against that vein on the underside of him. “Stunning. You’re doing so well, little one.” 

The taste of him compels you as much as his words, seizes you in spice-like addiction, and how interesting it’s going to be explaining that taste craving to him, among your sudden adoration for those damn melons. 

“Darling, I’m…” 

You feel it in his energy before he says it, already pulling off, replacing your mouth with your hand, dropping your lips down even lower, mouthing at his balls, and the feedback is instant. An outpouring crest of his pleasure blasting outward as he lets out a depraved moan, netting his hands into your hair.

Your hand is wet and so is where he’s spilled on his still flexing and releasing stomach, clear white maring the lettering halfway through “disciplined.” You’d clean it with your tongue if you weren’t sure how your overly sensitive taste buds would react now. 

It’s not the first time you’ve had sex since you’ve known you were pregnant, but it’s the first time since he’s known, and it’s the first time you’re not hiding the symptoms. Before, you carefully shied away from anything that might give you away, and between the preoccupation of everything on his own mind he was trying to keep from you and his respect for your boundaries, he never pressed. He had questions in his eyes, but you knew how to carefully reveal partial vulnerabilities to keep him off your trail.

Your chest flares at the memory.

We’re not hiding now. 

It’s your chant, your reminder, your comfort. How nothing of this caliber will be kept between you again.

His eyes confirm it, sincere and exact as they fight to break through their dazed slipping. 

Never again. His voice in your head is home, so consoling it can and has put you to sleep before. 

Right now, it wakes you up in a different light, dowsing you in heat as Obi-Wan takes your hand in his, wiping it on a piece of his discarded clothing before wiping the spend off himself. 

Then he’s taking your face in both his hands tilting you up before kissing you soundly. 

I love you, he says across the wire that ties your minds, the wire that keeps growing stronger every day. So, so very much.

You say it back, a fact as simple as breathing. You love him.

You want him, borderline need him the way you need your next inhale, you don’t say, but he must hear it anyway, because that cocky little smirk that’s been gone far too long is back.

“Shall we do something about that?”

You’re about to just lift your shift dress up and off in response, but he halts you, grasping your wrists. 

“Allow me.” 

He pulls you into another sultry kiss, completely neglecting the task of ridding you of clothing.

Or so you think.

There’s buttons all the way down the dress, and you’ve never used them, always wondering at their purpose if it can so easily lift over your head. 

At first, you don’t even know he’s doing it until you start to feel the coolness of the night air on your nipples. Opening your eyes, you pull back from him to watch as seemingly in thin air, your buttons undo themselves. 

“You needn’t seduce me further. You already know how much I need you,” you gasp, breathless from the kiss.

Obi-Wan just gives a small smile as he drops a hand, dragging it down your side, then down your thigh. “Hm. So impatient. All this from just pleasuring me?”

Maker, he knows! He knows that you are. You always have been, and it’s not as if you weren’t projecting your feelings too.

When he reaches a hand between your thighs, parting them and making a single, tempting stroke through them, his fingers come back glistening. 

“I should think you could feel that I am.” You let the tide of your frustration spill over into your connection to his mind. 

You know he had to hear you, but he gives no indication that he did. 

“Mm. Desire needn’t always be indicatory of impatience,” he punctuates his statement with a hand at the base of your skull, tipping your head back to expose your neck. “I need you to be patient, little one. Let me savor you.” And with that, his mouth makes contact with your neck at the same time his other hand plays with one of your exposed nipples. 

You whimper at the attention, quietly pleading with him for more. Among the still slight changes to your body, this has been the most notable one. How sensitive your breasts have become to even the scrape of the fabric of your clothing. 

And with the rough pads of his fingers working only one, leaving the other to pang in want...

“Obi-Wan,” it’s a prayer, a request. He doesn’t need his hands to cause sensation, and you’d beg him right now if he asked. 

He lets up on your neck, only barely, lips moving against the now throbbing skin. “Answer me first.” 

Clearing your throat, you give the most cogent response you can muster. “Depends on if you’re definition of savor is synonymous with torture.”

He locks eyes with you then, gently grasping a breast in each of his hands, dragging his thumbs over the nipples as you moan out your assent.

His chuckle is far too self-satisfied to be becoming of a Jedi, but you’re already too far gone to call him on it. 

“Is that what you want, little one? For me to torture you so?”

An affirmative whimper is all the response you can give, and Obi-Wan reacts quickly, taking your chin in his fingers and tilting your eyes up to his again. 

“Then you will be patient for me. Because I’m always happy to stop, and we can begin again when you decide to adhere.”

Your brain short circuits on the spot, and all energy is redirected much, much lower. His voice, stars above, his voice when it takes a commanding tone. 

It’s intimate, it’s personal, and yet this game is almost inappropriately playful for how sincere the moment is. 

But such was being loved by Obi-Wan. Full of dissimilar feelings that shouldn’t fit, but moved together in liquid consistency. Like metaphors that didn’t rhyme but still somehow gave their own life-giving rhythm, not dissimilar to the sound of his heartbeat when you lay your head against his chest at night. 

Making quick work of the remaining buttons of your shift and underwear, he beckons you to join him as he lies back down, large, warm hands guiding you to turn around so you’re facing away from him. 

You know that the purple stickiness of the fruit will smear from his body to yours like this, but you can’t at all bring yourself to care. 

You gasp a sigh of relief as one of his hands finds your breast, brushing a knuckle over the too-sensitive nipple. 

“Please.” Your whispered beg sounds pathetic, even to your own ears. But as you arch against him in a frenzied attempt at skin contact, Obi-Wan juts his hips forward, grunting into the exposed column of your neck, and stars, yeah, maybe he didn’t find that so pathetic after all. 

“What do you want, darling?” His voice doesn’t divulge any desperation, and for only the hundredth time do you envy his immaculate self-control. 

“You know, don’t pretend you don’t.” Leaving any doubt to the wind, you push your chest against his barely-touching hand. 

“Specificity can be a virtue; that I also know.” 

You change techniques, driving your hips back softly into where he’s hard and insistent against your ass, hoping it compels him. 

Then you simply… can’t anymore. You’re frozen, unable to move your lower half at all. 

Tangling your desires into a knot and tucking it away, you find the mindfulness to reply. “Yeah, so is mercy.” 

“Indeed it is. I shall concede when you do.”

You won’t win a battle of the wills with him. You’re not sure anyone could.

So you bring his hand over to your nipple. “Touch me here.” 

You feel his smile without even seeing it as he starts tweaking the bud. “Like this?”

It’s so much sensation, all concentrated on such responsive flesh, that you want to beg for him to switch to touching you between your legs.

You haven’t even finished the thought when you feel his unmistakable metaphysical brush against your thigh.

Extending a tendril of your own energy, you invite him in, and he takes it eagerly, ever as eager if not more to be entwined with your mind as with your body. 

He hears it all, the besottment, the arousal, the neediness. The panic that he might drag this out longer, that you’ll have to go a single minute longer without...

“It’s alright. It’s alright.” He sends soothing waves through your connection, and he swaps the positioning of his hand with the curl of power. He turns his hand so that the back of it runs through where you’re aching for him, gathering up your slick on the backs of his knuckles. You have to contort your neck to see what follows when he takes the hand back behind you, and your mouth goes dry when he sucks the knuckles in between his lips. 

You want to hear, you want to know what he’s…

He’s welcoming you in, navigating you to the brink of his mental barriers, letting you take that final plunge into the unsuppressed fullness of your bond to each other.

Now it’s your turn to hear it: how his carefully constructed unaffected persona is not at all a match for his naked, wanton need for you. 

And under that, the foundation on which that desire is built, not the product of it, is his love, his unyielding, unashamed, iridescent love for you. 

It’s all you can do but to pour it back, affirming and soothing and calling his love into action with your own. 

You both don’t want anything else except the most complete of entanglement, and that’s exactly what he moves to do, situating your bodies, hiking your top leg in the crook of his arm as you feel the initial breach of his body into yours, and all breath leaves your lungs in an exhilarating evacuation.

His audible gasp is an echo of his emotions, how he thinks he’s prepared for this onslaught of feeling, but how you take him off guard, how his equilibrium threatens to teeter every time. 

The web of his consciousness enveloping you, it’s easy to pick out a single thought blaring within him: How much he adores the way you fit together. Your back against his chest, how your breast fits in his hand, how the snug joining of where his cock presses into your body sends you into trembles, how comforting your very presence is to his soul when he lets you in like this. 

Tears, without warning, seep out of your eyes as he starts to move against you, slow and deep. You close your eyes, willing the powerful emotion away, but glimmers of light flash out behind our closed lids the moment you do, and how the kriff does he stay composed? 

Anchor. Anchor against me. 

He stills, letting you have a break from the barrage of pleasure blinding you as you search him out, looking for the cords of his intellect that seemingly both steam downward and beam upward, grounding him.

You find it, and you clasp on tightly.

But the moment he starts moving again, you lose sight of it all over again.

Your heightened hormones make your flesh so susceptible, and the tears start to fall again. Obi-Wan rolls your nipple in between his thumb and index, and he’s so good, and you’re so full, and you can hear his pleasure as your own, adding, doubling everything…

Scorching, electrifying heat speeds through your veins, hitting hard and fast, leaving you astounded and even more sensitive than before. 

Obi-Wan’s signature spikes as your climax resounds through him, and you can feel the vibration of the wanton noises he’s making right where his beard scratches against your neck. 

But he doesn’t allow it to overtake him, letting it run through him without resistance, making himself pliable but unmovable, keeping himself back from the edge. 

You still have much to learn.

Because that control? Gives him the ability to not even stop, not even hesitate once, even at both yours and his own ecstasy flowing through him.

When he starts striking his hips hard into yours, the weight of him inside you dragging exactly in the right place, you start to cry in earnest. Obi-Wan stops for a millisecond, concern radiating off of him, even when he can hear how much you want this so clearly, has access to every little passing thought. 

“Don’t stop, I’m fine, I pro…” He does just as asked while moving his hand down to your belly again, a soothing touch to his rough thrusts. Your eyes are blurred with wetness, overwhelmed with him. 

He’s listening to it all, applying every micro-feeling of feedback into action against your desperate, post-orgasmic skin, hand switching back and forth from your nipples to loosely clutching your neck, Force energy focused on applying pressure to your clit. 

“You’re doing so well, so good for me,” comes the wisp of his sultry tone, lips pressed against your ear. 

Since you aren’t even thinking about changing position, you know it’s his own preference that has him withdrawing, guiding you onto your back. 

There’s no inhibition this way, not the way there is when you’re on your side, no separation from your bodies being flush when he pushes into you again. You have to anchor in him, both mentally and with your fingernails clawing at his shoulder blades as your body starts into tremors.

He’s keeping the weight of his chest off of you, even though your belly is still barely swollen into distinguishable roundedness, and as much as you miss the contact, you can look into his eyes like this, can see the unfiltered attachment and all the weight of all the emotion he wills his body to not cave under. 

But then the tremoring transforms into series of contractions throughout your body, centering through your slick core, and you thrash your head to the side catching a glimpse of Obi-Wan’s fingers clenching into white knuckles, grasping into the exposed sand from the blanket being bunched up. 

He projects his thoughts across the tether to you,  how thoroughly impacted by the very fact you’re carrying his child, how affected he is by every little thing about you, honored that he’s allowed to touch you like this. 

You roll your hips back up into his, and that’s what it takes. His stuttering body is the lightning, and the searing, molten pleasure across your connection is the thunderous repercussion. 

It completely overthrows you, and your body bows against him as his high instantly cues yours again.

You can feel him throb inside you at the very moment you do, his turn to experience the secondary sensory white-out of your mate’s climax through the Force, his shuddering shout meeting your breathy whines in the close distance between your mouths. 

And he does kiss you then, soundly but with the haze of afterglow slowing it. 

“Have you any idea how bewitching you are to me?” He breathes it out, and despite all the ways you’d normally scoff at such words, his eyes tell the story, and you listen to it’s truth. 

His eyes hold that constant infiltrating study of you, the one that could be unnerving if his mind, still tethered to yours didn’t hold such amor, heart bleed such fondness that settles in the creases around his eyes. 

How interesting it is watching someone as knowledgeable as him having such an inquisitive outlook on life, and being so frequently the object of those investigations. 

Did the galaxy know her debt to him? Did she know the sum owed to inflicting the worst of life’s pains on someone who refused to let it build anything except an even gentler man of himself? When does she plan on repaying him? What does she offer in exchange for her cruelty of the hand she’s dealt Obi-Wan Kenobi?

Then the whisper comes, soft but crisp, from somewhere in the threads of existence around you, “Can’t you see? It’s you, child.” 

You could argue it. You could scream how it’s not enough, how you’re not enough,  how he deserves so much more from some dark insecure place inside you. Or how love shouldn’t be treated as currency in exchange for pain, how the galaxy could still have your fists if that was how it tallied. 

But the finality of it settles in your soul, more impressionistic than in solid wording: there is no easy conclusion that ties the suffering of life into purpose, no experience that erases or mends its pain. But love. Love makes the complicated endeavor of trying to find purpose in the madness worthwhile.  

Obi-Wan’s hum of agreement resounds in your ears and through to your head. His Force signature feels so familiar, so at home within yours and yours within his, that you’d briefly forgotten he could still hear you. 

With all the strength still left in quaking limbs, you wrap your arms around him, and he melts into it. 

The compassion of his soul hardly matches his war-ravaged skin, his guilt-ridden memories. Every good thing here came to be with a war waged, refined and not burnt away in fire at his sheer tenacity. 

It’s a growing thing, blooming in the desert. The beliefs in both of you. Your love for each other. Your own trust in the Force. 

Healing is no short journey, but her two sojourners here are determined.

And if that tender hope can blossom here?

Then maybe, just maybe: Tatooine is exactly the place for a baby after all. 

*********

In the valley beyond the hut, a boy jets quickly away in some mechanical contraption he recently motorized, a girl in a similar vehicularized compilation of junk not far behind. 

On the cliff’s edge stands Obi-Wan, eyes scanning the landscape intermittently for any sign of threat between longer affectionate looks at the children before him.

He turns, feeling your approach in his keen awareness as you set a hand on his shoulder from behind. His temples are now even thicker with sun-bleached silver, and his eyes wield the lines of laughter around them. 

And you? You’re as roped in by his gravitational pull as you’ve always been. 

He puts a hand over yours, clasping it to bring you in front of him, where he can still watch the children and encase you in his arms at the same time. 

“Slow down, Luke! You’re going too fast!” comes the distressed cry of your daughter, Ahlina, drawing your attention away from admiring Obi-Wan and back to the valley. Her vowels curl in the same way her father’s does, but her more casual phrasing was certainly thanks to you. Luke shouts back at her, “Come on, keep up!” while he races on ahead.

Obi-Wan smiles, seemingly amused at a secret joke. 

“They are much too young for this nonsense still,” he speaks, muffled slightly as he hides his lips in your hair. 

“Probably,” you reply with an airy laugh.

Not long after, the engine on Luke’s small contraption gives out, jutting him off and tumbling forward into the sand. 

“I told you!” Ahlina yells, her own machine coming to a halt not far away from Luke. 

When they make it back up the cliff, Obi-Wan couches and opens his arms, and they both come running with smiles. They’re still young enough to be unshy about affection, and Obi-Wan knows to soak it up, closing his eyes in relishment. 

Luke is the first to wiggle down, waving before running over to hug your leg, which you happily return, brushing some of the blonde mop of hair from his forehead. You adored the nights that the Lars let him sleep over. 

Although the nights that Ahlina slept over at theirs certainly had their allure too. 

“Can we have a snack, Daddy?” Ahlina asks, still happy to be hoisted up on one of his arms. 

“Hm. Perhaps I can make some of those ahrisa sweet breads again?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Can Mommy make them?”

“Why not mine?”

“Because you always burn them.”

He bops a finger lightly on her nose with a smile. “Cheeky.”

She goes to bop him on his nose in return, but he catches the finger, holding it. 

“Give it back!” she screeches through a giggle. 

“No, no. I think I’ll keep it now.” 

The suns are dipping low as you retreat into the hut, the two children running ahead, racing to gather the ingredients to help you bake the bread. Luke especially was an enthusiastic sous-chef. 

You step to follow them, but Obi-Wan grasps your hand. You turn back to him, and he barely gives you a second before he joins his mouth to yours. Sliding a hand into the auburn beard, you open your mouth to him, letting his familiar taste permeate your senses. 

He reluctantly breaks after a long moment, and you take his hand in yours. When you turn back to the horizon, the suns are dipping, blanketing the landscape in the most celestial light of the day. 

The planet’s eyes aren’t harsh in the way you used to see them. They’re still intense, and frequently unforgiving. 

Perhaps they never changed. Maybe only you did.

But as they sink now, you give a silent, partial farewell, knowing they’ll greet you again in the morning. 

Because if Dark’s patience is infinite? 

So is the promise of the return of the Light. 

Tagging upon request: @million-dollar-legs

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