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#people want a scapegoat and an easy target to blame

sophieinwonderland · 10 months

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A new hate blog is on the scene: Meet @no-context-endogenics

The DNI is rich when your whole blog is dedicated to witch-hunting and calling out endogenic systems by name. But let's see if this blog is even living up to its own name.

Here's the first post on their blog:

First... literally have no idea what's wrong with this. But second... Let's take a quick look at the pinned of this system they targeted.

Literally a traumagenic system.

IN THE FIRST POST OF THIS BLOG!

To be fair, they did post to the endogenic tags, but a lot of pro-endo traumagenic systems do when users like this make them feel unsafe in traumagenic spaces.

Right... which is why you posted the previous traumagenic system on your no-context-endogenics blog that claims to be about posting endos! 🙄

Also, I can't tell... are you lumping in mixed origin systems with "endos" here? It seems like you are, because the blog has a tendency of posting mixed origin systems too when it claims to be posting endos, as well as ones that just don't state their origins. Because many mixed origin systems do, in fact, have a disorder and are very public about it.

For example...

Mixed origin, polyfragmented DID system.

(Also, runs some of the coolest and most important plural blogs on Tumblr.)

Another post on this blog, which I'm not including here, was from a 14-year-old polyfragmented c-DID system. That system didn't say if they were endogenic or traumagenic, but I think it's safe to assume that they were most likely at least partially traumagenic.

And no, I think systems that harm the community definitely deserve hate. People who are out there calling out systems, fakeclaiming them, implicitly fakeclaiming trauma, bullying, etc.

But systems who are just existing as endogenic... sorry... we aren't your scapegoat.

I generally try to be nice with these. At least relatively.

But I'm going to fail this time.

You. Are. Pathetic.

All of you.

Endogenic systems have NOTHING to do with why systems are fakeclaimed. Do you want to know why systems are fakeclaimed? It's because systems... are weird. We are. We're a step too far from the norm and the average neurotypical singlet can't comprehend multiple existing in the same body together.

That makes us easy targets. And we should be standing together. We should be supporting each other.

But people like you are only interested in tearing us down because you're too cowardly to put the blame for your fakeclaiming on the actual fakeclaimers.

You want to talk about ruining the community, but you fakeclaim other systems. You hurt other systems. Including traumagenic DID systems. Because you're miserable and you have to inflict your misery on others to make yourselves feel better.

Have you ever been to Fakedisordercringe?

Because let me tell you, the people who get fakeclaimed there aren't usually fakeclaimed for being endogenic. Yes, of course they're anti-endo. But many who are targeted are traumagenic DID systems and it has nothing to do with endogenics at all.

Although... I guess that also applies to the @no-context-endogenics too, doesn't it? I mean, out of every post there, I think this might be the only one that's actually purely endogenic. (Not mixed origins, unknown or explicitly traumagenic.) Most of the blog is just Fakedisordercringe-style posts targeted at trauamagenic DID systems.

Minor bodied? Minor bodied with over 200 headmates? Using the word "headmates?" OSDD-1b? Fictive heavy? Undertale fictives?

The cringe subreddits would gobble you all up in a heartbeat.

And you know what the most incredible part of this is???

You're supporting them!

You give them the moral justification they need. You support this ridiculous narrative that there are these groups who are causing DID to not be taken seriously by... existing... often, in the case of most endogenic systems, not even claiming to have a disorder in the first place. Just... being plural.

And you give the okay for these singlets to feel morally justified in attacking and fakeclaiming systems just like your own.

You are EVERYTHING wrong with the system community.

You're the reason systems fear expressing themselves online or in public. The reason fakeclaiming is so rampant. You contribute to this toxic environment of fear and paranoia in system spaces.

You're not defending the system community.

YOU ARE THE ONES RUINING THIS COMMUNITY!

You're just a bunch of cyberbullies.

And the same goes for anybody supporting you too.

(And before anybody takes issue with me posting this when two of the bullies acting as admins for the blog are minor-bodied, I'm just going to remind you again that another one of their posts which I didn't share here targeted a 14-year-old polyfragmented DID system, so I really don't care about the ages of the bullies in the slightest.)

#syscourse #pro endo #pro endogenic #system discourse #bullying #ableism #cyber bullying #endogenic #fakeclaiming #systems #system #sysblr

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compacflt · 11 months

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I love your interpretation of Mav and Ice. I love how realistic they both feel because well, they're white men in the Navy starting in the 80s. What it does make me wonder about Carole? I know you don't write for her but your analysis of Top Gun itself just made me wonder about her. Like whether she was a traditional military wife or just kinda met Goose and fell into it. Did Goose's death and the period between his death and her's change anything? Did it make her more skeptical of the military because of the cause of Goose's death or was her asking Mav to not let Bradley fly purely out of her hurt for Goose's death and not a moral/political thing also. PS. I read your Slider fic and absolutely adored it

well… i think any attempt to flesh out Carole’s character is gonna be completely based on conjecture, because we’re not given more than “slightly naive Christian woman who doesn’t always say exactly the right thing.”

But I think it’s helpful to remember where she fits into the narrative at large, and why: Carole Bradshaw is the villain of the Top Gun franchise. Top Gun is her villain origin story.

The rhetorical purpose of the top gun franchise is: to make money, obv, AND to get people to join the navy. (to what extent it’s successful at achieving that latter goal is the topic of a different post… im certainly not the first to say it’s pretty easy to find an antimilitary reading of TG.) but if top gun is aiming to portray the navy as someplace you want to be, and someplace where you have to earn a spot to be (as I keep repeating over the last couple weeks, it’s all about honor), then Carole Bradshaw becomes the villain of the recruiting story of Top Gun: Maverick, because she (momentarily) prevented her son from joining the navy with the honor he thought he deserved, and she is to blame for the emotional through line of the entire movie. Thank God! we don’t have to blame maverick for fucking up and preventing Bradley from achieving his Dream Of Working As A US Military Contractor! we can blame his dead mom instead, so that maverick is still a good guy whom we, a moderately-conservative pro-navy target audience (🤑), can still root for & pay money to see.

so yeah narratively speaking she’s just a scapegoat. She has no agency in the story whatsoever, she’s only an object to receive blame. any backstory/reasoning/character we invent for her doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t really matter WHY she does it—whether she hates the military or not, narratively speaking we have to blame her just the same either way—it just matters that she does it. and then she has to immediately die so she can’t explain herself and maverick has to self-sacrificially take the blame. Because otherwise the plot of TGM wouldn’t happen, which would not achieve the rhetorical goals of making a bunch of money and getting kids to sign up for the navy.

#always a treat to remember that the target audience of tgm is republican dads of teenage boys #i only watched top gun bc i (teenager) was forced to by my formerly republican dad #i saw ur Carole post & i actually think she was fridged.#in case you couldn’t tell i am a little pissed about it.#very rarely are side characters just characters. everyone (paramount pictures and me included) has an axe to grind.#thanks for the ask glad you liked slider! It’s my favorite thing I’ve written for the fandom so im glad #top gun maverick #top gun #carole bradshaw #asks #pete maverick mitchell #* pissed about the fridging not about your post. i liked your post #she is killed not to strengthen the emotional throughline of the story but #solely to further TGM’s pro-navy pro-recruitment agenda and absolve the male MC of guilt.#that is the purpose of her death & her character at large in the franchise #sooooooo imo it doesn’t really matter what her outlook is/was #she’s the villain #and also part of joining the navy/having family members in the AFUSA is accepting the risk. esp if ur husband is an aviator there is so #much risk involved independent of enemies etc. people die flying all the fuckin time. she would’ve had to accept that #the fact that she doesn’t accept that is what makes her an anti patriotic villain etc etc #and remember she TOLD maverick GOOSE would’ve accepted the risk ‘he would’ve flown anyway’#again she is incredibly out of character in TGM (as is Mav) re: papers pulling & its all to serve this rhetorical goal

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lingeringscars · 1 year

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mari's way of ...dealing with? for lack of a better term? her guilt is so fascinating. the reality is that i don't know how guilty mari actually feels, but she is a prime example of one core aspect of teenage behavior: deflection. mari feels guilty so she projects that outward. mari has done things that could easily reflect poorly on her, so she twists the narrative and focuses on someone else instead.

this is very obvious with misty, who she, two months later, is still blaming for what happened with the shrooms. the reality is that neither was fully at fault for what happened, and it was a lack of communication that resulted in what occurred. misty left to go help shauna zip up her outfit, and mari noticed mushrooms on the table. of course she was excited. of course she wanted to share the wealth. ( how she was storing the fruit that later were all gone is another interesting aspect because ... she stored it for so long it essentially fermented. so she wasn't keeping those berries solely for herself, and when she realized that they were planning a party, she did offer it up ).

mari was the actor, misty was the provider, and none of them intended for it to happen. but that night changed A Lot and javi also went missing then. misty is no longer allowed near the food, but mari is. mari directed that so clearly that no one trusts misty with the food even though she was the one that added the content. mari, essentially, has suffered no consequences and remains the cook.

i don't think mari blames herself; i do think she fully blames misty. i also think that she wants to keep the attention off of her and scapegoat misty as the easy target. i think it is also something that can easily unify people; everyone against one target. this can only last for so long though. i think it's a lot easier to deflect the blame even though misty only intended to drug one person, not everyone.

then we have jackie and shauna.

"oh now you're her protector? too little too late"

mari and shauna who actually do, to some extent, share some blame in what happened to jackie. (dammit jackie i can't control the weather) but shauna tells jackie to get out and mari verbalizes that she should. shauna and jackie have the fight but mari tells jackie that if she thinks they're all crazy she should just go. tai tried to speak up but was shut down by jackie, and no one else made a sound so they're all complicit in a way to the demise of jackie ( + later all together for the taking ).

mari so viciously throwing this back at shauna in this moment where she was going to take more from jackie is so real! she is deflecting all the blame. she is focusing in on shauna instead of what she was trying to do ( take jackie's clothes ). it's such a teenager thing to do. deflect the blame. point the finger at someone else. ignore the guilt by pushing it onto someone else.

#muse: mari #meta: mari #still goign insnae over this scene #everyone in it #every single one #yellowjackets spoilers #yj spoilers

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avatarfandompolice · 1 year

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What's with this fandom and flat out ignoring the actual villains in the room?

Ozai's parenting screwed up Zuko and Azula, but somehow Ursa is worse compared to him. Kuvira made the conscious decision to become a dictator with many crimes under her belt such as her "summer camp" to weed out non Earth Kingdom pure blood citizens but somehow the blame is on Suyin. Unalaq merges himself with a dark spirit and uses it to severe the connections between Korra and her past lives, but guess who get fingers pointed at their face? Spoilers: it's not the guy who's main goal was to plunge the world in eternal darkness.

It's so frustrating because Ursa, Suyin and Korra are characters that deserve so much better than fans targeting them with their misguided slander when the actual perpetrators are right in front of them.

It stems from a few things:

1 - With Kuvira, she is an extremely likable and relatable villain. People want to absolve her of guilt whether consciously or subconsciously just because they like her. It’s a similar situation to Azula where she’s such a strong presence that people can’t attach bad actions to her. It’s one of the reasons a lot of people think Kuvira’s prison camps and giant robot are “OOC” because “in character” for them would just be her acting like a boss babe but not really doing anything bad. Su becomes an easy scapegoat because there is one, tiny, minuscule moment in B3 where Lin thinks Su might be working with the Red Lotus, and people just ran with that apparently.

2 - With Ozai, it again goes back to Azula. Azula’s issues in the show always result in her mother being brought up, and if someone lacks the inference skills to realize what’s going on, they’ll just think that Ursa caused Azula’s issues. From canon, Ursa struggled to connect with her daughter despite wanting to, and Azula in her teen years subconsciously knows that missed connection with her mother is why she is so messed up. But again, if you have the mental capacity of a peanut then this may not be clear. Since Ursa is relatively unknown in terms of backstory within the series, she’s an easy scapegoat because people can paint any picture they want with her. Not to get too much into another topic, but the exact action of people just formulating whatever backstory they wanted with her is why people hate her portrayal in the comics.

3 - With Korra, it’s just people still bitter that Korra even exists. They over-emphasize every mistake she makes to glorify how “perfect” Aang was (despite that not being even remotely true). You can look at any bad event that an antagonist caused in LOK and find at least one person putting 100% of the blame on Korra simply because they have some undying devotion to defending the original series. I find that unbelievably sad considering nothing about LOK is trying to minimize or compete with ATLA at all.

4 - And most importantly, it is people simply trying to analyze things in a way that makes them feel smart. The obvious answer to a bad thing happening in a story is that an antagonist did it, but they want to seem smart and subversive. Their whole value is placed on feeling smarter than a Nickelodeon cartoon, and they will make the most outlandish statements devoid of any context just to make the show seem “bad.” Unfortunately, in a world where there is an epidemic of videos and metas over-analyzing the most basic of story elements in stories, this is a byproduct: people who fabricate problems in stories to analyze just for clout.

#atla #lok #avatar the last airbender #avatar #the legend of korra #Kuvira #suyin beifong #Korra #avatar ursa #Ozai #Azula #notice how all the scapegoats here are women too

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sarcastic-salem · 1 year

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So before I say anything else I want to specify that

I am transgender but I have decided to stop taking hormones.

I don’t know right now if this decision is permanent or not. What I do know is that I thought I would be happier being on HRT. And I’m not. I’m not happier and I’m disappointed with the results, which for me have been minuscule.

I feel like I’m constantly walking on eggshells in the transmasculine community. At least with the people I’ve encountered. Because my definition of masculinity has evolved a lot, but it seems like a lot of trans men are very eager to conform to the heteronormative societal norms that define “traditional” masculinity. Whether its toxic or not, and just never speak of it again.

I can’t do that — I can’t make myself be someone I’m not. And, for me, its resulted in a lot of bullying and misogyny. I mean, I know there are other reasons but I feel like me being more feminine than other guys constitutes a lot of it.

Feminine men are treated like scapegoats in the transgender and queer community. “Masculine” men see us as the root of all evil — we’re the cause of all the homophobia and infantilizing. And TERFs see us as easy targets either for bullying or to be converted into their cults.

On top of that, I no longer believe in gender roles and I just can’t do it anymore. It feels like even mens’ clothing is designed to make a statement and to portray machismo.

I do not want to make a statement. I don’t want to be told that I’m brave for wearing floral prints or the color pink. I don’t want to have to justify my every move down to the clothes in my closet.

I am always going to spread awareness about Civil Rights, and I am always going to remind people that Loki is a queer, transgender God.

But I’m tired, I’m stressed out — I’m losing my fucking hair.

I just want to exist.

Right now, I identify as nonbinary specifically agender or pangender. I don’t think I am particularly masculine or feminine. I’m just me.

I am still transgender, but being a transgender bisexual Heathen does not mean that I have answers to every queer Heathens’ problems or that I know the solution to every Civil Rights issue or whatever.

One of the reasons the @lokisbookworm account got shut down is because, aside from getting hate mail and death threats for nearly 4 years, I was starting to feel like an unpaid therapist. I want you guys, my followers, to feel like you can come to me for anything because I love helping people and making people happy. I really do.

But I cannot tell you if you are transgender or not. That is not up to me to decide — that is for you to decide.

And I cannot tell you if the crow in your front yard or the joker card you found in a library book is a sign from Loki or Odin or whoever. I don’t speak for them, okay, and whether or not I think something is a sign is not a valid reason to just skip discernment. And assume the best or the worst.

Never skip discernment.

This account was created by accident. Technically. I had another one and because I have no idea how to navigate this app aside from the simplest shit like reblogging and making a post, that other account got shut down when I was trying to delete a side blog. But the reason this blog exists is because I am trying to be a genuinely better person and I want to try to have a positive impact.

I’m not perfect and I have fucked up a lot. You guys have no idea how much of a piece of shit I feel like every day. For being narrow minded and argumentative and accusatory. Its embarrassing but its also disappointing because like…….I try to explain and people don’t want to hear it. To an extent, I don’t blame them — actions speak louder than words, right?

But this is the fucking internet and I’m not the kind of person who documents every single second of my life with a live post or a selfie. So what do I do? I try not to argue with people. If there’s a post I disagree with, I usually back the fuck off. Unless I’m triggered and being stupid because I don’t think rationally when I’m triggered. And if someone posts things regularly that I disagree with or that upset me, I unfollow them to avoid getting into arguments.

I do fuck up, I know. Part of the reason why that is because I cannot comprehend why people are acting like Tumblr is not a social media platform. When that’s exactly what it is. I cannot understand why people are so offended when you comment or reply to their posts. Especially when they’re able to turn off the replies and the reblogs.

Like the entire concept of Tumblr etiquette is expecting people to censor themselves in a public forum.

Jfc, this post has gone off-topic but um……Yeah, I’m nonbinary and transgender. Still queer. But right now, I am going off of my hormones and I don’t know what comes next.

I am still Milo.

I don’t give a shit about pronouns. People have misgendered me so much irl, I don’t even care anymore.

Happy Yule

Blessed Holidays

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stranger-rants · 2 years

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It seems like there's a lot of dissatisfaction with the show and I think people vent that frustration at Billy's character because he's an easy target and it's easy to list his flaws and dislike him. I sort of remember doing the same when I was a teenager in fandom when I was dissatisfied with how my "faves" were being written. You can kind of see it when people bring up Kali - even though Billy's existence had nothing to do with the Duffers choosing not to bring her back. I remember putting down other "worse" characters by comparison because I was annoyed at writing choices for characters I liked. With ST, I don't think that frustration will end either because I can't see the show coming to an end in a way that'll make the fandom (and specifically the Tumblr sect) happy. A lot of their writing choices are always at odds with what they seem to want, like Byler being so popular with the Tumblr fandom and etc.

Yeah, I agree. A lot of lateral attacks on character preferences are a distraction from greater issues with the writing. People to this day blame Billy and Billy fans for fandom toxicity when he has nothing to do with the ongoing ship wars or lack of screen time or appreciation for a character or actor. They just need someone to be mad at, and Billy is the Duffer's scapegoat.

#asks

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gareleia · 2 years

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FMA plot-heavy royed AU with Lust!Ed going undercover to influence Roy and make him commit human transmutation.

• Homunculi come to Resembool to check out Hohenheim's house and find his son, short on two limbs and a brother. They decide to just take him in to lure out his father and make sure their sacrifice doesn't kill himself - that's how bad off he is.

• Ed is basically catatonic from trauma and guilt, so he doesn't even try to fight or correct them on Al's situation - he might as well have killed him, after all. Besides he's pretty sure these guys are a threat, and though he doesn't care about himself he still wants to protect his brother.

• Lust is tasked with looking after him as the only one who somewhat understands humans (because Greed ran off and Envy only does quick impersonations).

• Her motherly disposition resonates with Ed and he starts to get attached. Lust uses it to gain his trust and manipulate him into becoming her apprentice, since she still has work to do.

• She teaches him to blend in, disguise/flaunt his age and features, and basically uses him as a bait for predators/whores him out to important government figures.

• Except... She does get attached. Maybe not as a friend or family or a mentor, but at least as a pet owner (or that's what she tells herself). So when a mission goes south and Ed ends up gravely injured far away from anyone who could help, she gives him her stone to save his life.

• Without her stone Lust dies and Ed is now a homunculus (which makes his limbs grow back at least). Father is furious, but lets it slide, since he at least didn't lose both a sacrifice and a stone; Sloth doesn't give a damn; and the rest of the homunculi hate Ed and blame him for everything. Especially Gluttony.

• Ed steps up to become the new Lust. He is, like Bradley, a former human, so he ages. Since the ouroboros gang is now down a sacrifice, it's up to him to find a new one, and to do that he's ordered to keep an eye on their most promising candidate: Colonel Roy Mustang.

• With military's assistance Ed creates a life for himself complete with a fake name, documents and personal history, gets a job and sets up a 'mugging' so Roy can 'rescue' him - except Ed is really crappy at the whole 'damsel in distress' thing, but it somehow works out???

• Instead of Cornello Ed gives the stone to Rose and convinces her that she's a saintess and that if she 'helps' enough people with it she'll get her boyfriend back. After the stone runs out the rebound kills the person Rose was trying to heal, people lose faith and start rioting. She gets burned at the stake as a witch.

• Ed and Gluttony aim to kill Scar before he gets to Mustang. Scar survives, but he loses a leg and has to get automail.

• Ed is the one who gets Envy to kill Hughes, because 1) he knows too much (his secret lab 5 investigation), 2) it would hurt Roy and it would make him more susceptible to manipulation, 3) to commit human transmutation one needs a loved one to resurrect. Except afterwards he for the first time feels guilty for what he does. Before dying Maes asks whether or not Ed is with Envy, because he has suspected him all along.

• Ed opposes using Ross as a scapegoat because Roy is way too smart to fall for that. That's when Ed realizes that he genuinely respects (and is offended on behalf of) his target. But it's not like he likes him or anything.

• Instead of Lust, Roy fights Envy who, while wearing Hughes' face says that he only killed Maes because of Roy. Havoc dies and Riza is in critical condition. Ed is supposed to play on Roy's guilt and self-loathing to plant the idea of committing Taboo into his head, but he hesitates. He realizes how easy it would be to break Roy right now, and the fact that he doesn't want to scares the shit out of him.

• Both Ed and Roy start to avoid each other for their own reasons and the ouroboros gang grows impatient. Ed leaves to check out two other potential candidates, the Tringham brothers, and finds out that while he was focused on Mustang Fletcher died and Russell lost half of his body trying to bring him back. He takes their new sacrifice to Father and gets praised, but that only makes it all so much worse.

• The whole thing reminds Ed of Al, so he breaks down as soon as he comes to their house. Roy's been waiting to tell him they're breaking up (for Ed's protection), but ends up trying to calm him down. Ed realizes that Mustang is probably the only person alive who actually cares about him and that he's going to die because of it. Because he followed his asshole dad's evil twin and forgot what it was really all about: protecting Al. Protecting his loved ones. And holy fuck, does he love Roy.

• They split up, officially - because of Roy's work and Ed's crazy family's bullshit, and Ed deflects. The last thing that Lust has ever taught him, right before shoving her stone in him, was that if he was ever in trouble with the family he should visit that one bar in Dublith.

• Ed meets Greed and offers his stone in exchange for help in stopping Father. He also decides that it's finally time to check up on Teacher, Winry, Pinako and Al.

• Izumi doesn't recognize him in disguise, but feels that there's something wrong with him, so she's reasonably hostile. It hurts to see what grief has done to her, but at least she's alive. For now.

• Winry is in Rush Valley studying under Dominic, who took her in after his daughter-in-law and grandson died. She seems okay, but she's just pretending. Ed also meets Ling, who starts following him around because he's obviously not human. It's the first friend he's ever made besides Winry.

• While stalking Pinako and Al Ed meets Hohenheim. The latter thinks he's with Father, treats him like a monster in his son's skin and threatens that if Ed so much as comes near Al again he'd die a horrible death.

• Meanwhile Bradley threatens Team Mustang, so Roy rushes to check on Ed but can't find him. While digging, he finds some small inconsistencies in his cover story and realizes that something is wrong. Envy gets torched and before dying reveals that Ed was a spy and that he orchestrated Hughes' murder.

• Ed goes to Briggs to prevent the bloodshed, but fails. He kills Kimbley and Gluttony, but his stone takes a hit and Ling gets impaled.

• Greed makes contact with Curtis and Mustang, telling Izumi that Ed isn't dead and Roy that he's risking his life to protect him.

• When the four sacrifices (Izumi, Hohenheim, Russell and Roy) get dragged into Father's den Ed, Greed, Ling and their minions follow. Ed throws himself at Roy to protect him, and Pride drags Ling through the Gate instead, which costs him his tongue.

• There are now four sacrifices without Roy, but before they can do anything Sloth comes back from his latest mission with unconcious Al. Turns out, Father knew about him all along, but deemed him useless as an agent and non-threatening.

• Roy and Ed face down Pride, the alchemists face Sloth and Greed engages Wrath, but fails horribly.

• Al is the one to finish off Sloth while using alchemy for the first time in years.

• Greed, Scar and Riza manage to finish off Bradley, but Greed's stone almost runs out of souls - it's not enough to sustain him, but can still be used, so he gives it to Ling.

• Ed is also running low on souls, but keeps protecting Roy. When it gets so bad he thinks he's going to die, Ed confesses that it was his idea to kill Hughes, so Roy doesn't mourn him and fights harder in his rage. Except Roy already knows and it's just a confirmation that Ed both actually cares and still tries to manipulate him - which, to be fair, Mustang is exactly the same.

• They manage to kill Pride, but Father still grabs the souls from Amestris. They manage to reverse it and engage Father.

• Father tries to take Hohenheim's stone, but Al sacrifices himself to protect him. Enraged, Ed beats Father to a pulp but then loses. His stone is taken and he's back to being human again.

• Hohenheim finishes Father off and makes a move to restore Al, except his stone is down as well and he only has his own soul. Ed tries to stop him, saying that he's the only family Al has left, but Hohenheim disagrees. He's finally admitted that Ed is his son and how proud he is of that. Besides, his soul, like Greed's, is too old and isn't going to last long, so he might as well use his life for something worthwhile.

• When Al comes back he already knows what their father did. He's angry and sad, because he thinks he's alone now - since he never had a good look at Lust. Ed just stands there awkwardly and says something really dumb to alleviate the tension, and that's what makes Al and Izumi finally recognize him. And his disguise is trashed (make up washed off, glasses broken, golden roots visible, etc.) so he can't even deny it.

• The Rockbells have found his wheelchair near the river and all this time everyone thought that Ed had drowned himself, unable to deal with the guilt for his brother's condition. That's what made Al swear off alchemy and why he didn't even try to get his original body back, instead staying in Resembool and later joining his father on the road.

• Al is confused but happy, Izumi is that and angry and Roy is like "Edward, huh?" Tearful reunion ensues.

• In the end Ed and Roy make out, then agree to take a pause (for Ed to spend time with his family and for Roy to clean up the military mess) and then try and start from scratch, this time for real.

#fullmetal alchemist #edward elric #roy mustang #royed #homunculus ed #lust!ed #angst #greed/ling on the side #I actually only remember like half of both shows #so there are probably plot holes #oh well

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avandelay20 · 9 months

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Many places have begun to regulate short-stay rentals to encourage owners to return their properties to the long-term rental market.

Nicole Gurran, a professor of urban and regional planning at Sydney University, has been studying this for almost a decade said the link has been well established.

"There's robust research evidence now internationally that the more short-term rentals in an area, the tighter a rental market, and you see that tight rental market flow on in terms of higher rents and higher house prices," she told 7.30.

"The research evidence shows too, that when you take short-term rentals out of the market and return them back to the long-term rental supply, that rents also fall in an area."

The short-stay companies like Airbnb and Stayz believe they've become an easy target and are a scapegoat for more the complex long-term issues that contribute to housing availability.

From Stayz:

"...it's important to remember that regulating short-term rental accommodation in isolation will not solve the housing crisis."

To which the world has responded:

BULLSHIT

Here's the proof:

THE NUMBER OF short-term Airbnbs available in New York City has dropped 70 percent after the city began enforcing a new law requiring short-term rental operators to register their homes. There are thousands more listings that could be unregistered.

August: 22,000 NYC listings

September: 6,841 NYC listings

Some short-term listings have been switched to long-term listings,

The number of long-term rentals jumped by about 11,000 to a total of 32,612 from August 4 to September 5.

That uptick in long-term rentals is exactly the behavior NYC wanted to see.

Good for you NYC!

Housing is for people. Not for investment.

As for Airbnb and Stayz who have desperately tried to spin this debate as though they are simply scapegoats for bad government planning - we can all clearly see that these companies have ALWAYS been part of the problem.

Can you imagine an arsonist or a murderer putting up such a ridiculous defense when all the evidence points to their guilt?

When a tobacco company is found to be selling products that cause cancer, or a chemical company is found to be polluting the local aquifer and poisoning nearby residents, when a big pharma company is found to be paying doctors to over-prescribe addictive opioids - when the court of public opinion finally sees the evidence that those companies are at fault - those companies have to pay.

And in those cases where RJ Reynolds, Dow Chemicals, and Purdue Pharma were found guilty - NONE of them were so pathetic as to try to play it off like they are just a scapegoat.

That's how pathetic Airbnb and Stayz look right now.

Worse than Big Tobacco.

Worse than Big Pharma.

Airbnb / Stayz are at the root of a failed experiment that has distorted the housing market over the past 10 years and they need to be stopped.

Forcing low and middle income people and families out of long-term housing, forcing countless others to pay obscene increases in rent due to lack of supply, pushing people to live out of their cars or on the streets.

These companies have caused untold suffering and mental anguish - many of those impacted likely resorting to drugs/alcohol or self-harm to escape the pressures.

Yet Airbnb / Stayz claim to be unfairly demonized in this story?

Fuck that noise.

Take em down.

#airbnb #stayz #nyc #short-term rental #rent #australia #regulations #big pharma #sackler family #big tobacco

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mindclearer · 1 year

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Countries can only be "better" than other countries in leadership, and by leadership I mean what the government does for its people. The more corrupt a country's government is, the worse the country. I'm guessing Americans don't get free health care because their government is not actually there to serve the people, but rather to control them. Most american politicians (the people in congress, house of representatives, etc) are there not to serve the people and make the country better. They are there for selfish reasons like power and greed. And the people who are there for those corrupt reasons do not care about making the country better for everyone, they are there for themselves, and it will actually seem more beneficial for them to keep the general public distracted.

The corrupt government keeps the people distracted from the real problem of corruption by arguing about the wrong things. In other words, if the people have something to argue about they won't come after you.

That is why abortion and race for example are still a big issue, the government wants the people distracted. That is probably why they elected Trump, he is divisive and therefore beneficial to their own selfish desires.

If the people have a single person like the Donald to blame, they will not come after the people who elected him... Ironic, but that seems to be human nature, fighting corruption is hard, so when the people have an appointed scapegoat like Trump, they might forget about the real problem and go after him instead, since one target is easier to hit than a thousand.

The US government isn't ethical, and they aren't doing what they should for their people. Most of them are there for the easy money that comes from manipulating the masses.

If you're an American that trusts their government to do the right thing, you have been brainwashed. This brainwashing is more subtle than in countries like russia, but it is there. The greatest country in the world perhaps in terms of military, but not in terms of individual freedom and in terms of life quality.

As an American you may feel a little offended, you may be asking how you are not free... Yes, you are allowed to own a gun. Yes, you have free speech.

But why do you have to pay thousands for healthcare? Why do the most important things in society like schools lack funding?

You should be offended at your government, not me.

Where do these billions of tax dollars go? Most of it should be going back to the people in the way of services benefitting the people, but does it?

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lucianalight · 2 years

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Loki can scream and cry his motivation out loud yet so many people still don't get it

You know it's really interesting(poetic? ironic? downright weird) that the way Loki is seen in-universe is also mirrored by so many people out-universe, specially when you consider that this perception of Loki parallels myth Loki who is known as the scapegoat of the gods.

And in-universe Loki is the scapegoat, not only in his family but in his society.

"The scapegoat doesn't get picked randomly or by accident. Usually they are either sensitive, unhappy, vulnerable, ill and/or the outspoken child or whistleblower. In other words, the scapegoat is the child who refuses to look content or stay silent in the unbearable atmosphere created in the family home."

- Glynis Sherwood

And Loki was that child. He confronted Odin on his lies, racism and his favoritism and got no answer. He confronted Frigga and got excuses and he screamed that he never wanted a throne, all he ever wanted was to be Thor's equal, and he wasn't heard. He practically begged for Odin's love and acceptance on the verge of falling to his death and he was rejected.

And the tragedy is that he was never understood, and his pain was never validated. He told he had imagined slights. His uncharacteristic behavior during the invasion was never questioned by his family. They just assumed the worst of him and that he wanted a throne. Odin told him that should have been grateful that he was saved as baby because his birthright was to die and then sentenced him to solitary confinement for life, one of the worst forms of torture. And Frigga tried to excuse Odin's actions, tried to put the blame solely on Loki and manipulate him into accepting Odin.

"Controllers, abusers, and manipulative people don't question themselves. They don't ask themselves if the problem is them. They always say the problems is someone else."

- Darlene Ouimet

And then MCU decided to retcon the character, to portray Loki instead of someone who had rightful grievances but committed wrong actions, as a narcissistic slimy betrayer. And since he was villain coded and the other characters were hero coded, people easily accepted that retcon.

"For scapegoating to occur, a community must agree on a target who can be blamed for anything that goes wrong. Sometimes a community just needs someone to BE wrong all the time, so they can know they are right. It really doesn’t matter if the person is actually guilty or wrong, as long as everyone agrees on it. That agreement allows the community to act against the scapegoat and feel justified. They can hate, abuse, ridicule, neglect, expel, wound or kill the scapegoat and actually experience feelings of joy and well-being afterward."

- Raven Foundation

And people prefer to see Loki that way, to blame him for everything, to scapegoat him because then it's easy to look at all the terrible things that happen to Loki in the story, all the mocking, humiliation, beatings and abuse that he goes through and laugh at him because in their opinion he is the bad guy and deserve all that.

What's ironic though is that despite the narrative efforts to frame Loki as a selfish narcissistic power hungry jerk, he still comes off as more relatable, empathetic and even heroic than the hero coded characters when you analyze the events objectively and don't let the narrative tells you how to think. Sth that yet again fits the definition of a vilified scapegoat.

#loki is a scapegoat #loki #anti thor ragnarok #loki series criticism #mcu critical #anon #messages

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valkerymillenia · 2 years

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So many people are misunderstanding the whole point of this line. It has become a whole debate and I see the fandom divided about this in all forms of social media.

I keep seeing people whining and saying

"she held a while town hostage! She is bad!"

"but she is a villain! She always has been!"

"she's dangerous! She's destructive!"

"strange didn't mean any harm, she did!"

FINE!

Let's fucking talk about it, shall we?

⬇️

Wanda is not evil, she's not a villain and never was.

She's a highly traumatized person that keeps losing everyone she loves and being placed in extreme pressure situations over and over again and yet still has the moral fiber to try to fight for a greater good.

Yes, she held a town hostage. In Wandavision she had a mental breakdown from the sheer amount of complex trauma and grief she was going through. On top of that she was S.W.O.R.D.s scapegoat and manipulated at every turn by Agatha while she was emotionally vulnerable.

The problem is that she's very powerful and altered reality in an attempt to escape her pain. I do not know a single person that wouldn't do the same thing (escape the pain by changing reality, bringing back lost loved ones) if given the chance, the problem was her execution. That's beside the point though!

The point is she made a mistake and she accepted the blame, she didn't mean harm but she admitted her guilt and suffered for her mistakes, suffered immensely to fix what she did.

"she held a while town hostage! She is bad!", "strange didn't mean any harm, she did!"- she was having a mental breakdown and though she was deluding herself and in denial, she did try to give all her hostages happy lives and spare them pain. Yes, it's absolutely no excuse, but if you're going to say Strange didn't mean any harm, then you have to admit she didn't either.

Wanda was traumatized over and over and over again, she was USED over and over and over again, all she wanted was a moment of happiness. So many other "heroes" have done awful things for so much less and nobody says a thing.

Strange though? He did what he did out of pure hubris.

He knew the possible consequences, he was completely sane, he was warned not to do it, he just wanted to prove he could do it and his only excuse was that he wanted to help a kid with something mundane that he could have helped with in a hundred other ways.

Strange might not be evil but he broke the rules out of arrogance and narcissism.

Sure, Wanda affected people's lives directly while Strange did so indirectly, he didn't target anyone personally. But it's still one town vs the whole world (or more accurately, multiple worlds, even if he didn't know that at the time).

(And, just to be clear let me highlight this again, Wanda had no idea the amount of power she had, she had no idea she could do what she did. Westview was ACCIDENTAL. But Strange in NWH? Absolutely on purpose.)

Wanda is 100% right in saying that it's unfair that he's still treated as a hero while she's seen as an enemy. It's true, it's a fucking double standard.

And another thing!

So many people say she got off easy. EASY.

She had to willingly give up the only people that still loved her.

She had to give up her husband.

She was a mother that had to indirectly kill her own children, whom she loved.

(And she placed herself in self-isolation afterwards.)

How exactly could she have suffered more? Honestly, tell me what's worse than having to sacrifice your own children for a greater good?

You need to have ENORMOUS strength and character to do that, to give up all the happiness you have for the sake of other people, and not truly turn into a villain. A selfish person wouldn't do that!

Stop acting like the death (or "erasure" or whatever you want to call it to sanitize the situation) of literal innocent children isn't important, stop acting like it was deserved, stop acting like it wasn't a punishment for her actions.

"oh but they weren't real, she created them!" - yeah, well, my mom might not have used magic but she created me too. How the kids were born doesn't change how real they are or how much Wanda loved them, stfu!

Meanwhile, there's Strange.

Yes, arguably he tried to clean up his mistake but did he take accountability for that mistake? NO, he blamed a kid, he made Peter pay the consequences of his hubris and got away scotch free and still holding his titles of hero and sorcerer supreme!

(And then he went beg Wanda for help.)

You see, here's the real problem- Wanda IS dangerous, she has A LOT of power. And that generates fear. And fear generates hate.

That's true for the fandom too, not just the characters.

Plus she's a woman, and there's always double standards with women (why is Loki so loved but Wanda so hated?).

TD;LD: Wanda is fucking right.

Wanda is right and you not liking her doesn't make her wrong.

If you're going to treat her as a enemy, then you have to treat him the same way. It's a vicious double standard and the fandom is falling for it the same way the fictional characters are, which is stupid because the fandom has all the information and many are simply choosing not to use critical thinking.

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lilhawkeye3 · 2 years

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12 months ago, I was friends with a popular art blog. Or at least I thought I was. We talked a lot. Even made a server together. But over the course of us knowing each other, I would often do things that would upset them without warning and only be allowed back into their good graces after apologizing for things that I didn’t understand to be wrong. It culminated in them and their new friend group of popular creators blocking me without warning and I was stuck alone, confused as to what I did. Unless someone had been on their bad side, most ppl I mentioned this to didn’t believe me.

And then it turned out that they had a history of being racist to Black creators across several fandoms, of sending mean anon messages, of their friends doing the same… and I had to realize there wasn’t anything I could’ve done to fix things, because I hadn’t done anything wrong.

So when another popular creator treated me in a similar manner… I largely stayed quiet about it.

And then six(ish) months ago, it came out that another popular blog had been racist (among other things), and that I was one of their targets.

I thought that I had lucked out! That someone else had spoken up about them and I thought people would believe me now when I explained what had happened! I wouldn’t be alone with what happened anymore.

Until a few creators I had considered mutuals and friends blamed me for not telling them that this person was hurtful. It was my fault for not informing them, and I should’ve trusted them enough to tell them.

That’s when I realized I couldn’t win.

It didn’t matter what I did. If I named names, it would’ve been me against everyone else, and it’s really fucking lonely being the only one to do something controversial like that. I would know, seeing as that’s what happened when I made my Bad Batch design post months before any hashtag started. And then I would need to take the risk for people to believe what I said was true. They had not done so in the similar previous situation. I couldn’t risk it being the same again.

And things were different. This second hurtful person knew my name, my phone number. I thought we were friends. I really thought I found something genuine.

Maybe I’m just stupidly hopeful.

I wish I could just teach myself this lesson all tied up in one neat bow, but it would mean lying to myself. “You’re the problem”— while an easy scapegoat, I wasn’t the inciting issue in those cases. “You’re a bad friend/person”— potentially true but my therapist disagrees. “No one likes you”— likely true but not an excuse for people to have been racist to me. “Internet friends aren’t real friends”— well that’s just completely false, because some of them have proven to be true friends. One sent me groceries when I struggled to eat. Two sent birthday presents, two sent cards. One let me send booty shorts and another wine lmao. And several didn’t abandon me when I was at my lowest point mental health wise and lashed out at everyone around me, trying selfishly to get them to all leave because I thought I was hurting them simply by existing.

I’m not a good person or great friend, but I logically get now that I don’t have a Midas touch either lmao.

But also… I can’t ignore the damage that was done to me emotionally. I really was hurt by people I trusted. The behaviors they perpetuated online are those that encouraged the racist bs I deal with. And now I forever have to look over my shoulder and second guess everything people tell me because I don’t know who is genuine up front anymore.

And now I see that big groups of creators seem to be becoming the next new facet of social media. Maybe cause isolation, but I think it’s natural for us all to want a solid group of friends that we can be ourselves with. Sigh i don’t know. I’ve never been in a friend group, so everything I say comes from an outside point of view and from the perspective who was hurt by two different popular groups but… please, just… understand the power that you potentially have? And how someone can get hurt by it? Things get passed around like a game of telephone and shared and twisted and next thing I know, I’m hearing three sides to a story during my gift exchange fest over why they in their subgroups of the fandom are wary of others. Some people are genuinely malicious but idk, maybe I’m not hopeless enough to thing that everyone is.

I’m not really sure why I’m writing this. Maybe because my therapist suggested it because clearly I use writing as an emotional outlet lol. Maybe because when I went through my ask box to find some kiss prompts, I had to face some of the awful messages I get sent every once and a while. Unfortunate for them, I have decided that killing myself is too energy consuming and expensive. And the insults to my creative ability: yeah okay you aren’t saying anything bad about myself that I haven’t already thought.

Or maybe I just felt like I’ve pent up all this hurt about the situations I was forced into this past year and now writing this while I cry is the best outlet for it all. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyways yeah. I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I was just sad and wanted to write about why I was sad I suppose. Might stay up and finish a spicy Jango Fett art, bc I might be a fake fan but I thrive off of spite and horny chaos.

In conclusion, if you want to see some good homegrown drama, join a Facebook fandom group. Thanks for coming to my Sad Time with Hawk Talk.

#can I bill tumblr through my insurance for this therapy session?#hawk says yes #if you managed to read this then uh holy shit why would you do that to yourself but also good for you

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crossdressingdeath · 3 years

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To me JGY is a much more compelling antagonist than JC. I just feel like JGY's motives and reasonings make sense in canon due to his background and everything. JC wants to punish anyone vaguely related to WWX? Doesn't want to help people he owes his life to? He's had privilege from the day he was born and he does what with it? I'm not saying he isn't complex or an interesting character, I'm just more drawn to like JGY over JC.

JGY is a complicated antagonist with nuanced motivations and emotions; JC is just a rich asshole abusing his power to kill people for reminding him of people who didn't sacrifice enough for his liking. JC works better as a representation of how awful the ruling class of the MDZS setting can get; he hurts people because he wants to and gets away with it because he's rich and blames it on everyone but himself because bad things happened to him one time, and he's allowed to keep doing it because he's a sect leader. Like... JGY isn't actually a worse person than JC, but he's not allowed to get away with his actions because he wasn't born into wealth and power and mostly targets people who were, while JC was born into wealth and power and targets people who weren't. Such is the way of the setting; WWX even acknowledges that JGY was targeted so harshly because he was an acceptable scapegoat rather than because of what he actually did. You can look at JGY's actions and understand why he did what he did; JC was just lashing out at every easy target he could find for over a decade, and was just an abusive piece of shit even before that.

#mdzs #jin guangyao #grapehate #asks #anon

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anti-anti-a-la-bi-bi · 2 years

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-Disclaimer: I am not a native English speaker. Several things could have been expressed better. If some wording confuses you, please ask.-

Also, I feel like antis pulling the 'what about propaganda?!' argument from their hat need to realize that propaganda rarely acknowledges itself as fiction, and when it does it is generally in a 'But do you *want* it to become like this?' or 'it *could* be like this' manner. Fictional works about dark content are widely acknowledged as fiction, they create a clear border between reality and that fiction by virtue of acknowledging that those stories are fiction.

Propaganda's very goal is to influence someone's perception of reality. There are no content warnings on propaganda, instead it presents itself as a truth that you must acknowledge, or as an action that must be taken.

TW for nazi imagery, as I will be using a propaganda poster aimed against Jewish people.

(Loose Translation: He is to blame for the war)

This image wishes to convince you that Jewish people are to blame for the misfortune. It does this by presenting a stereotype, or rather, a caricature of Jewish people, as an enemy. The greedy Jew, an image used to use the Jewish population as scapegoats, to justify the horrid actions of the nazis as morally correct. Nowhere does this say 'Nah jk this is all fiction sweetie💖". That would go against its goal.

(Translation: Dutch people, for your honour and conscience! -Against Bolshevism! The waffen calls you!)

Some notes for context: The waffen-SS was the combat branch of the nazis' SS organization. People from occupied countries were often recruited. Bolshevism was a revolutionary Russian movement, later resulting in the NBP(National Bolshevistic Party), it was a mix of many ideologies.

Again, Bolshevism is painted as an enemy that ought to be destroyed. It is the honourable thing, according to that poster. Imagine being someone uncertain of what to do and seeing that. It plays on Nationalism, as a lot of propaganda does. In fact, while under occupation, Dutch newspapers were not allowed to speak badly of the Nazi forces, extending to them not being allowed to report lost battles or other bad news, all to uphold the image of the nazi forces as being undefeatable. One of the things the resistance did was bring their own newspapers, which contained actually accurate information(largely women, too.).

However, someone already cemented in their beliefs is unlikely to be swayed by such a poster. Someone who believes that Jewish people are falsely targeted will see the poster above and likely note it as a lie.

Non-propaganda Fiction generally aims to tell a story, and it is easy to tell it as fiction due to a lot of factors. First of all, the book is often labeled as non-fiction if it is not fiction, which can be signaled with words such as 'autobiography', or other non-fiction genres. Because we can generally tell what books/stories(games and such) are fiction, we aren't very likely at all to hold them for the truth. Third, fiction generally cannot convince someone that something reprehensible(eg murder) is acceptable if that person already finds it unacceptable. It is very unlikely to sway any held beliefs.

I may elaborate later, but I'm struggling to word stuff atm. I was simply pissed at antis constantly comparing dark fiction to propaganda.

#poorly worded so if anyone can reword it go ahead #general tw #tw nazi mention #tw antisemetism #ask to tag.

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no-droids · 4 years

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Chapter 5: Of Metal and Men

Part five of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.1K OUR LONGEST SIN YET FOUNDLINGS

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, mild mild degredation whoops

A/N: Uhh this is so fluffy? wtf how come??/?

“Mando?”

“Hm.”

“I have to pee.”

He grunts. “So go pee.”

“I can’t see.”

“Turn on a light.”

“But…” You don’t even want to say the words aloud. You’ve so far convinced yourself that if you just never mention the fact that he’s got his helmet off right now, he’ll somehow forget to put it back on again.

It’s not that you necessarily want him to deviate from the ways of the Mandalore, obviously; you have more respect for his culture than that. No, it's just that. This is so nice. Hearing him speak without a modulator warping the natural frequency of his voice, being able to feel his skin directly under your lips with your face buried in the crook of his neck like this. Practically everything on this fucking ship is metal—the floor beneath you, the mechanics, the hull, the cockpit, the blasters, the armor. When he puts it on, he becomes nearly invincible; an unreadable, impenetrable fortress that abides by a strict code he rarely deviates from.

But without all that, he’s so… human. Not a Mandalorian, just a man. Everything that gives him prestige and recognition stripped away. Every weapon he straps to his body removed. The code he’s honored his entire life suspended in a paradisiacal loophole that you never want to end, even if it means having to walk around in the dark for the rest of your life.

He has to put the helmet back on at some point, you’re eventually forced to remind yourself. What starts out as an impossible task slowly becomes easier as the pressure in your bladder increasingly makes itself known, a reminder that you too are only human and sometimes humans have to pee soon after they wake up.

Which, y’know, a lot of times is okay. But sometimes, like right now, it really fucking isn’t okay. Because right now, his hand is so big and warm resting against your upper-back, shoved up underneath the fabric of your shirt and spread out across your shoulder blade. Right now you can feel his heartbeat through his chest, feel his lungs expand and contract slowly against you. The last thing you want is to move, and the darkness makes a perfect scapegoat.

You’re quiet for too long, apparently, because he eventually turns his chin to brush his lips against your temple. “Turn on a light. Just don’t look.”

You honestly don’t blame him. He hasn’t had as much time to contemplate the staggering predicament you’re in. “Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive, shiny.”

“Go. I trust you.”

Your lashes brush against his neck when your eyes pop open, and the giant pang you feel in your chest shouldn’t be nearly as debilitating as it is. You know he trusts you, it goes without saying. But it’s one thing to travel around the galaxy with him, cultivate that inherent trust that comes naturally with odd partnerships that work surprisingly well. He trusts you to look after the kid, trusts you to pilot and maintain his ship, trusts you to cauterize his wounds when he’s incapable of doing so. He even trusts you enough to fall asleep next to you, leaving himself unarmored and vulnerable in ways you know you’ll never truly be able to understand.

But this—this is entirely different. This is the Way. And he’s half-asleep right now, putting a proverbial blaster in your hand and painting a target on his livelihood, telling you he trusts you enough to uphold one of the strictest, most foundational pillars of his belief system for him.

Okay. Okay. If this is what he wants. You’re not sure you’d put nearly as much blind faith in your own abilities (pun totally intended), but okay. You trust him and apparently he trusts you, so by some weirdly paradoxical extension inwards, you’re just going to have to trust yourself, too. He’s always been a man of relatively few words, so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you that somehow only three of them work to provide you with more motivation than you’ve experienced in your entire life. If this is what he wants, then you’ll fight logic with gloves on and downright force yourself to see without seeing. Somehow.

You slowly start to wiggle out of his arms, but then pause for a second to tilt your chin up and press a soft kiss to his lips, trying not to get distracted from your task when he mmphs low in his throat and his hand comes up to cradle your jaw, holding you there for just a bit longer than you originally planned.

“Go,” he eventually breathes into your mouth.

“You’re not making this any easier.”

“Go.”

“Fuck—fine.” You carefully remove yourself and do your best to stand up on the blanket with unsteady legs, but then you stop for an entirely different reason, patting the skin on your bare hips in the pitch blackness to check. “Wait, hang on, did—did you not put any pants back on me last night?”

“…Was I supposed to?” Eventually comes from somewhere by your feet.

No. No, he most certainly was not. You’re honestly just surprised it took you this long to notice, especially since you’ve been subtly clenching your thighs and delaying the inevitable in the darkness for so long.

You don’t end up answering him, determined instead to find your way to the fresher without the use of sight so you can come back to him quicker. That’s easier said than done, though. It’s slow going from the start, trying to step over him without actually knowing exactly where he is, carefully tapping your toes to the ground three times before putting any weight on them and hoping you don’t accidentally step on anything important.

He takes the possibility away when you hear him sigh and strong fingers wrap themselves around your ankles in the dark, pulling and guiding your legs up over his body while muttering inaudibly under his breath. Something tells you he’s still getting used to having companions that are so blatantly helpless without him, but he does good in rising to the challenge regardless.

The second he releases you and you take a step forward off the blanket though, you immediately trip over something bulky and painfully hard on the floor, catching yourself just in time but managing to stub your toe in the process.

“Careful,” his voice says from behind you, over the loud clang echoing throughout the hull. “Beskar’s there.”

“Thanks, I almost tripped.” Once you get closer to the machinery standing upright against the far wall of the hull though, it’s a bit easier to see. The red and green lights act as your navigation beacons, stationary air traffic control wands guiding your turbulent body through the darkness.

The fresher light is fucking blinding when you finally make contact with the switch, and with the illumination comes an incredibly stern reminder to yourself not to look behind you. It… it’d be so easy, wouldn’t it? Turning your head just a fraction right now would be the equivalent of pulling a blaster’s trigger a mere inch—devastating, life-altering, and permanent, yet somehow so fundamentally easy.

You don’t, of course. It’s just the fleeting thought of it that jars you for a moment. You quickly shut the door behind you, use the toilet (annoyingly slanted thing you need to have a talk with him about soon, more of a weird space urinal than anything else and not really designed to be used by people with vaginas at all), and then wash your hands.

Your slightly damp fingers press tight to bridge over your eyes before you carefully open the door again, knowing you’re now facing him and the fluorescent light over the sink behind you is probably shining directly on him.

“Is it… safe?” You ask after a second.

“I’m not a rancor.” The sound of his voice makes you sigh in relief and your heart drop in disappointment simultaneously.

Modulated. Filtered, and familiar.

Sure enough, you peek through your fingers to see him laying back with an arm casually folded behind his head, his helmet back on. Even though the only skin you see is his bare hand resting on his stomach, he still looks fucking gorgeous like this—waiting silently for you in the make-shift bed you shared, blanket twisted around his lower half.

You pause there in the doorway so you can just admire him for a second. Relaxing, looking so trim and flexible in his long sleeved under-armor without all that beskar weighing him down. He looks back at you through the chrome visor, letting it tilt to the side and rest lazily in the cradle of his arm, and you suddenly remember with a jolt just how incredibly pantsless you are right now.

“Come here.”

Maker, he still makes you nervous. Stars, he had his mouth buried between your legs for longer than you can even imagine last night, why are you still so nervous? Is it the proximity? Just the literal act of seeing him in front of you? Not being able to feel like yourself around him unless he’s a disembodied voice in the darkness? Not being able to remember he’s an actual fucking person under there if you’re not actively touching his body in some way?

You feel… kind of shy now. Why? It’s like a flip inside you he can switch at will, just ever so subtly change his posture or tone of voice and bam—he’s dangerous, remember? He’s an underground bounty hunter, remember? He’s a mystery, he’s unpredictable—he’s an invincible, unreadable, impenetrable fortress, and you know absolutely nothing about him. Remember?

You trip over his armor again for an entirely different reason on your way back to him this time, despite how much better you can see now. You catch yourself once more, looking down at the offending pile of beskar like it did that on purpose, but then stop to consider it for just a second.

It’s just metal. And he’s just a man. You know he’s probably killed more people than you can count and he’s intimidating as all fuck, but you also know he stutters when he gets really worked up and decided to fall asleep next to you without his helmet on. Because he’s just a man, and men aren’t born with shields on their backs and visors covering their eyes and grenades in their hands. Not even Mandalorians.

So you slowly bend down and grab his hefty gloves, taking a moment to study them before fitting your comparatively small hands into each of them one at a time, flexing your fingers inside the fabric and feeling how much space the tips of them have to move before reaching leather.

He says your name shortly as you’re carefully stepping your right foot into his oversized boot. You ignore him, balancing precariously on one leg while your left foot slides in the other one. “Hey, guess who I am.”

“No.”

You reach down and lift the unexpectedly heavy ammo belt over your head, letting the thick leather drape between your breasts and come to rest just below the curve of your bare hip. “I’ll give you a hint,” you say, gathering the mass of dark fabric at your feet and making sure your butt doesn’t get caught on the thick bandolier when you rise back up again. You wrap the cape around your shoulders and lift your chin to tie it in a sloppy, makeshift little knot around your throat, fingers noticeably less nimble when confined in loose leather. “Handy with a blaster, not real big on droids. I also wear a helmet, probably because my face is too pretty to match my menacing vibe but those rumors are unconfirmed.”

“Come here,” he gruffs impatiently, but you just turn around and waddle back a few steps in the baggy getup, much too tiny feet clomping around awkwardly in his roomy boots and the floor-length cape dragging on the ground behind you.

And then you stop, before grabbing the hem of it and whipping around dramatically to face him, giving him your best bounty hunter pose.

“I can bring you in warm,” your voice is a deep as you can get it, your eyebrows narrowed as you fingergun and shift with flair. “Or—”

“Hey—careful—” he quickly sits up and points at your hand, “—don’t touch your thumb to the—”

“—I can bring you in—” And then an actual, real life, giant ass blaze of fucking fire suddenly shoots from your wrist and scares the living shit out of you so much that you stumble backwards and trip over your cape, choking and flailing as you come down hard on your bare ass.

You blink up at him from the ground with wide, terrified eyes. He looks back at you, arm outstretched and frozen in midair.

And then he laughs.

Mando actually fucking laughs at you.

You stare at him in utter shock as he abruptly drops his hand to his lap and his helmet to his chest, his shoulders shaking with it. As lovely and uplifting the sound is, you’re not really sure how to feel about the fact that the first time you managed to get an outright laugh out of him was at the risk of your own mortality.

“Excuse me,” you say after a second, trying your best to sound appalled. You carefully remove the death gauntlets with your hands extended as far away from your face as possible, fingers spread and thumb held completely rigid in position. “Are you actually laughing at the fact that I almost just died horrifically in front of you?”

“Stars, just—” he lifts his head back up to look at you, “fucking—come here. You’re worse than the kid is, I swear.”

You slowly stand up, and the boots are so big around your ankles that you don’t even have to kick them off, you can just leave them there in position on the floor as you lift your feet and begin walking over to him. “I’ll have you know I am a fierce bounty hunter—”

“Terrifying,” he mutters, and you’re about halfway done untying his cape when you get close enough for him to reach out and snatch the bottom of it, swiftly yanking you down on top of him and removing the fabric from your throat at the same time. He ignores your dramatic choking noise, catching your flailing body with barely a grunt. “Craziest in the guild. Your first kill was yourself.”

“Yeah, I—” you oof and giggle as he immediately flips you around, downright giddy at the ease with which he maneuvers you on the floor and gets on top of you, “—I bring them in warm, or I bring them in hot.”

“Stop,” you can hear his smile through the helmet as he catches each of your wrists and pins them to the ground by your head. “Maker.”

“Wait—” you try to wiggle out from under him. It’s futile, of course, not just because he’s all muscle while he holds you down and straddles your hips, but because all your body weight is now laying on top of his ammo belt as it slings around your chest. “Wait, h-hang on—the fresher light’s still on.”

“So?”

“So I can see you right now, which means—” you can’t take that stupid thing off your head and kiss me.

That’s what you want to say. You catch yourself just in time, biting your lip and blinking up at your warped reflection in the chrome visor. He releases your wrists and lifts his torso up tall. “…W-which means—”

Mando’s too smart for that, though. You’re not getting one by him anytime soon. Before you can come up with an alternative, he hooks his fingers under the thick band of leather trailing down through the valley between your breasts and calls you out.

“Do you want me to take my helmet off?” He asks, tilting his head down at you and letting his hand slide back and forth under the ammo belt idly. For a second you think he’s going to remove it, try and find some way to wiggle it off you in this position, but then he just lets the heavy bandolier drop back down to your sternum again and continues moving his hands down your tummy. “Hm? Or do you want to see?”

And then one of his thumbs catches the hem of his trousers and ever so slowly starts to pull the fabric downwards. Your breath stutters as tan skin and dark, coarse hair are gradually revealed right in front of your eyes, the hemline making a mouthwatering triangle shape that runs alongside the lines of his Adonis belt.

When he stops just at the very base of his cock, it takes you a second to realize he’s waiting for an answer.

“Uh—” Stars, what the fuck kind of harrowing, existentially crippling question is this? Kiss him or look at him? Is he serious? “Uhhhh…” You legitimately feel torn, blinking up at the visor and noticing the struggle blatantly written all over your reflection. Why in Maker’s name would he put this on you? On the one hand, his mouth. On the other hand, his—

“I want you to see,” he admits quietly, and you flick your eyes down to look at him slowly running his thumb along the slope of flesh peeking out of the dark curls. “Can I show you?”

Oh fuck, what is happening? And why are you so wet already?

“Uh… ye-yeah—” and then he’s immediately using his other hand to reach inside and shift up just a bit, before he eases his gorgeous cock out of his pants by cupping his balls and letting the fabric hooked in his thumb rest under them. He’s already half-hard for you, already deliciously thick as he carefully lowers himself back down again. Against all reason, his skin practically glows under the artificial lighting, somehow looking sunkissed in places that never see the sun.

Maker, you want it in your mouth.

You have no idea why that’s your first thought. Okay, well no, that’s not true—you know exactly why that’s your first thought, especially when you can physically see him getting harder and harder right in front of you, watch him trace his fingers down his shaft and lazily brush them over the head. You love the way he touches himself, how his hands look cradling the base, the beautiful contrast between the dark hair and his warm skin tone.

He slowly starts to move down your body, slide his legs back on either side of you until he’s straddling your lower thighs, and it’s not until his cock goes in the exact opposite direction you want it to (away from your mouth) that you find your voice.

“Hey, wait—I want—” his touch immediately stills along your hips and he lifts his helmet, letting you scramble to prop yourself up with your elbows, “—let me go down on you. Please.”

“I told you I’d fuck you when you woke up,” he says, dropping his gaze back down between your legs. His voice somehow sounds deeper through the filter. Maybe not the pitch exactly, but the… color? Fuller, darker, more depth. “You want to make me into a liar?”

“Never. Fuck my mouth instead.”

His hands tighten and his breathing subtly picks up through the modulator. “I want your pussy. First. We’re almost to Corellia and I’m not risking my life on another hunt until I’ve fucked it like I want to.”

“You decide that timeline,” you remind him breathlessly, pushing your upper-body up off the floor and catching the fabric of his tunic near his neck.

“I have to earn credits somehow, I can’t just—” he abruptly cuts himself off when you yank his collar to the side and lick a slow, hot, wet line up his throat. “—I… I-I can’t just stay on this ship with you f-forever and… and…”

His breath catches when you bite down on the thick cord of muscle connecting his neck to his shoulder. And then he murmurs your name when you wrap your hand around his hard cock.

“You can do whatever you want to my pussy,” you whisper against his skin, feeling him shudder under your lips as you slowly pull your hand up and down the thick length of him. “Whenever you want. I made that clear last night. All I’m asking is that right now, you lay back and let me suck your cock for a little bit. Is that okay?”

He doesn’t answer with words, but he throbs under your hand and his body is surprisingly malleable as you urge him to move back slightly, just enough for you to collect your legs out from under him and rise up on your knees to face him. You keep stroking him the entire time, sucking marks down his neck while you hold the hemline to the side. Nobody will ever be able to see them, but somehow that makes it even better. A secret only you and him know. Next time he scares off a crowd of locals, he’ll be wearing your signet under his armor.

When you’ve sufficiently bitten and kissed marks along his neck and the fabric won’t stretch anymore, you reach down and pull it up from the bottom, lifting it up up up—up until it rests right above his sternum and you can see almost the entire length of his torso underneath, tan and dusted in dark hair.

You strongarm him back to sit on the floor with one hand and hike your own shirt up over your breasts with the other, letting the fabric bunch under your armpits while his ammo belt bisects your chest diagonally. He curses when you immediately climb on top of him and start dragging your skin against his, rolling your exposed tits and pussy against the hard planes of his body and letting him feel how soft you really are.

“Is that okay?” You ask him once more, rubbing yourself into him. “Will you let me suck your cock, Mando?”

“Fuck—” he growls, grabbing your hips, “—why are you—h-how do you always make it feel so… so good—?”

“It’s supposed to feel good,” you tell him, beginning to slide down his body.

“Not like this,” he pants, tipping his head back when you slowly lick down his chest. “Not—not everything, n-not all the time.”

The warmth that settles in the pit of your tummy is intensified by the clear drop of precum shining at the tip of his cock, now achingly swollen and a mouthwatering shade darker in color than the rest of him. “Keep talking,” you whisper. “It’s sexy.”

And then you slide his head into your mouth and let your tongue flutter gently along his frenulum.

Mando instantly goes rigid and grabs a fistful of your hair as you hum and taste his precum, slowly brushing your tongue over his tip to see if you can get any more out of him like this without going deeper.

“Fuck—” he grits while lifting his helmet to look, every muscle in his body tensing under you. “Y-your mouth is—” he gasps when you gently swirl circles around the pulsing head, his open palm coming down hard on the blanket with a dull thud, “—fuck, your mouth is s-so—so fucking good—”

You open your jaw and take him down a few inches so he can feel your throat, satisfied when his helmet falls back and his grip tightens in your hair. You slowly begin bobbing up and down, dragging the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft and getting him nice and wet. His thighs almost feel like he’s wearing beskar over them, his entire body held so incredibly tight and stiff as you softly pleasure him.

You can only get around half of him in your mouth without straining for it, so you soon lift off him and start coating your palm and fingers in spit. His head raises immediately, exposed chest heaving as he watches.

“You’re so tense,” you murmur, reaching down and starting to jerk him with your slick hand. He doesn’t relax into it, instead he straightens his back even more, his hips starting to thrust into your grip. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I want to fuck you,” he growls, the exact opposite of relaxed. “You—you can’t w-walk around half-naked in—in my clothes and expect me t—”

He cuts himself off with a groan when you take him back down again, deeper this time. And then he relents and starts slowly fucking into your mouth, gradually rolling his hips further and further with every thrust. One hand fists itself into the blanket while the other holds your hair back as you open your throat and work the rest of his length with slippery fingers.

When you take him down as far as you can and you drop your palm down to cradle his balls, Mando just about loses his mind.

“Fuck—let me fuck you,” he starts rasping at the ceiling, “please, l-let me—let me pound you into this dirty f-fucking ground like you wanted, like—like the filthy little girl you are—”

You hold there and swallow around his thick cock, letting your other hand slither down between your own legs and start rubbing your clit. He probably can’t see you do it from this angle but it feels so much better this way regardless, having him as far down as your throat as possible and listening to him babble while you touch yourself.

The sound you make pulling off him to breathe isn’t necessarily the most attractive thing in the galaxy, but with the way he groans and tugs your hair sharply in response, you’d think it was the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. You keep jerking his throbbing cock and rubbing circles around your clit, before moving down to take one of his balls into your mouth.

His grip tightens, along with the gorgeously soft skin under your tongue. “W-Wait—stop—”

You look up at him. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat and everything about him is unbearably stiff, even with the way his body is sprawled out and his chest rocks up and down with exertion.

“Sorry, I just—I was—” he gasps, “—I d-didn’t want to—to c-cum—”

“I want you to cum,” you murmur, blinking up at him and dragging your tongue up the length of his swollen, throbbing cock. “Please. Want it down my throat.”

You don’t know how it’s possible for his body to go even more rigid, but it does. “You—?”

He possibly could’ve stopped himself, you think. Even with the way you start gently sucking on his tip and looking up at him innocently after telling him you want to swallow his load, maybe he could’ve stopped the way his balls suddenly pull up tight, the way his grip on your hair turns to steel and his helmet rolls to the side.

But then the subtle shift of his head means he can see your hand moving between your legs, you can tell. You can tell, because he makes a choking sound through the modulator and his stomach flexes, and then he’s cumming down your throat exactly like you wanted him to.

There’s a second between the moment of detonation and the explosive result of it. It’s just enough time for him to slowly tilt his chin up and let out the smallest, quietest moan you’ve ever heard from him before his cock starts throbbing on your tongue, his balls working to steadily pump cum up his shaft.

You pull up and start swirling circles around his head just as the first spurt hits your tongue, moaning at the taste of him and preening at his hoarse whisper of your name. You swallow everything he gives you, drain him until he’s completely empty and spent, trembling in pieces on the floor.

Admittedly you do keep him there in your mouth just a little bit longer than you should, just taking a minute to savor how good he tastes and how fucking beautiful his cock is, how stunning his body is exposed and spread out for you on the ground like this.

“Keep—keep doing that and I’ll get hard again,” he eventually warns, though his voice comes out sounding like sandpaper in his throat.

You hum and finally pull off him. “That’s got to be the least threatening thing you’ve ever said to someone, I think.”

“Not able t—” he jerks when you bite his hipbone, “—to scare you off, apparently. Most people run from me.”

“Nope. Told you I wouldn’t, remember? Back on Cantonica. I’m also the craziest bounty hunter in the guild, so. Look.” You lift up to show him. “I even have an ammo belt, see? It holds all of the bullets, for all of my guns that I have.”

His hand slowly comes up and you think he’s going to grab the band of leather across your chest to either take it off you or pull you forward with it, but then he just grabs one of your breasts and gently squeezes it instead. “You’re beautiful.”

Your breath catches. You blink twice at him, your heart suddenly thundering under his hand.

“Wearing my armor. Not wearing it. Not wearing anything. Wearing your clothes. In complete darkness. You’re beautiful.”

You think—for one ludicrous, insane second, you think that the enormous swelling in your chest literally transfers itself up to your brain and causes you to have an aneurysm right there on the floor in front of him.

But nope—it’s just the entire hull starting to violently shift and shake, swerving sideways and jerking upwards with rapid, unpredictable shifts in gravity.

You thrown on top of him in the chaos and try to find some sort of stable ground without accidentally kneeing him in the crotch. Mando grunts and gets rolled on top of you when the ship immediately veers the other way, the weight of him suddenly crushing your lungs and making it impossible to breathe with the brutal changes in g-force. Did he—did he leave the baby in the fucking cockpit?

He left the baby in the fucking cockpit.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #smut #reader insert #pedro pascal #no-droids

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