Heimdall Is A SAINT.

EXCUSE ME OBI-WAN WTF IS THAT LOOK

Mr. Puppy Eyes

"IG: Favorite mentorship on ina11"

I mean... I'm weak for "mentor that is kinda like a parent for the mc" and yeah, we all know Kageyama was an antagonist in all the OG seasons and Kidou had a big internal conflict about it but that is what make it interesting for me. Also the fact that Kidou is Kageyama's soft spot and Kidou keep referring to him as Commander after his death and in Galaxy.

Okay, so I find Riyo Chuchi to be a really interesting character, and this scene from the episode “Trespass” in season one is a fascinating look into her as a person and it’s a fascinating look into the Republic’s political climate at the beginning of the war. This entire episode is a chilling (ha) reminder of how little power the Jedi have, and this interaction is a brilliant one to include.

Because while Riyo isn’t one of the main protagonists, she’s still meant to be a sympathetic character, a character we like and a character we want to succeed. We know that she’s friends with Ahsoka, and we know that she’s at least friendly with Padme. Hell, right after this scene she has a kickass speech and saves the day! Riyo is pretty undeniably portrayed as a good guy to the viewer.

But Riyo still does a pretty huge fandom no-no, for lack of a better way to put it.

Because in this episode, Senator Riyo Chuchi asks the Jedi to negotiate on her planet’s behalf, and when the Council member present says that they can’t, Senator Chuchi changes her tone, and orders them to.

Now, thankfully, Riyo Chuchi is also a logical character, so when Obi-Wan tells her why he said no, she doesn’t fight him on it any further. But it still is fascinating to think about, because… the Jedi serve the Senate. Because even a Senator who’s friends with the “good guys” has no with issue using that fact to her advantage. Because the look that Obi-Wan and Anakin send each other implies that this has absolutely happened before.

It’s just… interesting to think about.

(But also, seriously, the implications throughout this entire episode are kind of horrifying??? Like, within the first two minutes of this episode, we see the Chairman, uh, remind Obi-Wan and Anakin that the Jedi serve the Senate, aka Senator Chuchi in this case, and Riyo then confirms that, leading to Obi-Wan standing down. And that’s pretty much the tone of the entire of the episode! It’s wack.)

The muse came to me. Who was I to say no? 

Dooku at the Opera: A Lineage Tale (A Comedy in 3 Acts)

Featuring: Yan Dooku, Rael Averross, Qui-gon Jinn, and Obi-wan Kenobi

—————————————-

“Here, take this.”

A dented, silver flask was thrust into Qui-gon’s inner pocket, the weight of the object throwing his deep brown dress robe off-kilter. 

“Rael!” Qui-gon hissed, trying to fish the object from his voluminous, velvet-trimmed outwear. By the Force, he hated wearing this thing. “I’m not - “ The fabric tangled, wrapping around Qui-gon’s arm - once, twice - somehow pinning his limb immobile against his side. 

Rael Averross tossed his head back and laughed for a good minute, leaving a scowling Qui-gon half-bound, trapped in the finest Jedi robes the Temple had to offer. Chuckling, he stepped forward to help Qui-gon unfurl from his self-made prison. “Just trust me, kid. You’re gonna need it.”

“I’m not sneaking Rodian liquor into the Coruscant Opera with Master Dooku at my side. He’ll flay me alive if catches me!” Qui-gon shuddered, testing out his freed arm.

“I’m not asking you to drink it,” Rael cocked his head with a small sigh. “That stuff would strip the paint off the side of a Grellan nightclub.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Qui-gon snapped, rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to know how Rael had such intimate knowledge of the infamous Grellan nightclubs.

“All I’m saying, kid,” Rael’s voice softened as he wrapped an arm around Qui-gon’s bony shoulders, leading him to the full-length mirror standing in the corner of his and Dooku’s shared quarters. “Is that Master Dooku has probably forgotten about about this particular escape tactic.” Rael put a finger to his chin, glancing to the ceiling in thought. “It was twelve years ago.”

Qui-gon frowned, his own confused expression staring back at him in the polished glass. The boy - man - seemed a stranger, wrapped in a long, velvet-trimmed robe, his tunics a darker shade of his customary beige, pressed, absent the usual dark soil spots and off-green streaks that so infuriated his Master. He looked…well, respectable. 

He was fifteen now, had been Master Dooku’s Padawan for just over three years. He had also had the dubious honor of keeping Rael Averross’s occasional company for almost as long. 

“Rael, it’s the opera, not the Citadel. Why do I need an escape tactic?” Qui-gon gestured with the flask in his hand, liquid sloshing against its container. “And if I’m not to drink this, then what in Nine Corellian Hells am I supposed to do with it?”

“I don’t know, kid, you’re a Jedi. You’ll figure it out,” Rael shrugged, pushing wavy black hair from his face. He cocked a crooked smile in Qui-gon’s direction, ruffling his short, spiky hair. 

“Make your exit after the first intermission, but not too close to the start of the second act. Did that one too many times and Dooku’s cottoned on to it.” Rael began to push Qui-gon towards the door, ignoring the boy’s stammered protests. “Now get outta here before he gets suspicious.”

Qui-gon gaped from the other side of the threshold. “Rael!”

But the door only closed with a final whoosh, leaving a very confused Qui-gon Jinn in an empty Temple corridor, battered container of Rodian gin in hand. 

What in the galaxy was that all about? It was the opera. Not just opera, but a Serennian opera. Truth be told, Qui-gon wasn’t much one for the more prestigious arts, not like his Master was, at least. But he had learned to keep those opinions secret after spending two weeks dusting and reorganizing Master Dooku’s extensive holoart book collection, a consequence of expressing his opinion at an exhibition of Tuerrilian landscapes that all the paintings “looked like the same smashball field with the goalposts removed.”

But this would be different, this wouldn’t be a bunch of boring green lawns perched atop various boring curved, silver architectures. This was a story about Serenno. Yes, with large-bodied, multiple-lipped Trellian singers in strange, pointed hats and all, but it was a way to get to know his Master better, learn something new about him, about his planet. 

Behind Qui-gon, the door to Dooku’s quarters opened halfway. “Oh, and kid?” Rael called down the hall. “Say hi to Brigindia the Breadthful and Hagvor the Hu - “ Rael clicked his tongue, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks flushing. “Anyway, tell ’em Rael Averross sends his regards if you happen to leave by the stage door exit,” he finished, sly smile spreading across his face.

—-

Knock knock knock.

Rael looked up from his holobook, tapping the bookmark button as he glanced at his chrono. 

Not bad, kid, he thought, giving his arms a long stretch before leaving the comfort of Dooku’s plush arm chair. He stopped in the pantry before answering the door, pouring two cups of cold, Nemishian tea.

“So you got out,” Rael said as greeting. “Record time, too.”

Qui-gon pushed past the older Jedi, a flurry of wrinkled fabric and frustration, the faint odor of burnt Ceylla wood drifting from his robes. He made a series of aborted half-circles, like a jittery, indecisive Lothcat before Rael took pity on him and led him to the sofa, pushing a glass of the Nemishian tea into his hand.

The young Jedi sat, unmoving, for a good minute, eyes wide as he seemed to replay every last event of the past three hours in excruciating detail. Rael took his own glass, downing half of it in one go, giving a satisfied smack of his lips. Dooku always did have better provisions than the Jedi commissary, a way of enticing wayward Padawans out of mealtime trouble and sometimes extracting an extra hour’s work out of them.

“It was terrible, Rael,” Qui-gon finally spoke, eyes still wide, voice somewhat haunted.

Rael laughed, slapping his thigh as he sat back in Dooku’s armchair, extending his legs long, his ankles crossed. “C’mon. It couldn’t have been that bad,” Rael teased. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Five of them, actually,” Qui-gon murmured, taking a sip of his tea. The drink seemed to restore some of the color to his pallid face. “Each with a thirty-minute aria.”

“Ah, The Fall of the House of Carellic.” Rael grinned. “A classic.”

Qui-gon’s eyes widened, as he nearly dropped his glass. “You mean he’s seen this one before?”

“It cycles in every seven years or so,” Rael answered. “I imagine at this point Master Dooku has it memorized.”

“But then why,” Qui-gon’s voice rose, “did he give me a three-hour running commentary of everything wrong with its portrayal of Serennian culture if he knows it so well?”

“That, my young friend,” Rael drawled, eyes tightening with barely restrained laughter. “Is all part of the experience. Now,” he leaned forward, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “How’d you escape?”

The corner of Qui-gon’s mouth quirked upwards. “Spilled your paint stripper on the mezzanine-level bar. Was a real shame everyone knows the Senator from Gorrusk likes to smoke indoors, although I think both his outfit and pride will recover from the mishap.“

“And being the dutiful Padawan you are,” Rael continued, grinning, “of course you volunteered to accompany the poor Senator to the on-site healer, ensuring your Master would not have his night interrupted.” Rael tutted. “It’s just a damned shame there was so much paperwork to fill out.”

Qui-gon raised his glass in Rael’s direction. “Takes forever, really.”

Rael nodded, raising his own glass in salute. “Not too shabby, kid.”

The two Jedi sat in contented silence for a few moments, the adrenaline rush of Qui-gon’s frantic escape finally waning, the younger man’s head slowly tilting downwards, his eyes closing. A minute later, Rael heard a soft snore emanate from the pile of tunics sprawled on the couch. 

Chuckling, Rael stood, collecting both glasses, pulling Qui-gon’s long legs fully onto the couch, boots and all, covering him with a soft blanket plucked from a nearby closet. Dooku could snipe at Rael later for letting his Padawan desecrate his furniture in such a manner. He wouldn’t be back for at least another five hours anyway.

Qui-gon was going to be one of the good ones, Rael thought. Still needed to loosen up a little bit - Dooku had him scared to rights most of the time, but he’d learn soon enough that his old Master was just as much bark as bite - at least, most of the time. 

Fifteen years and Dooku has never gotten anyone to sit through the entirety of one of those Force-forsaken circuses. Rael had never been sure why he insisted on the charade every year - Dooku had to know full well his Padawans were sneaking off. Hell, even the other Jedi Masters always seemed to find a polite excuse to avoid Dooku’s yearly invitations to the opera, Master Windu going as far as claiming he needed to “shave his head and was busy that night and all the other nights the act was in town.”

Force help all of us the day he finds some kid willing to sit through that schlop. They’d probably end up being more terrifying than Dooku himself.

—-

“Master,” Obi-wan Kenobi gave a series of gentle raps on the door to Qui-gon’s room. 

Qui-gon peered his eyes open, squinting at the bright morning sun shining through the small gap in his curtains. Morning already?

“Obi-wan, come in,” Qui-gon groaned, voice still full of sleep. “How was the opera?” he asked, suddenly remembering where his Padawan had been last night, shuttled away in a familiar velvet-trimmed robe by his old Master. 

Qui-gon felt a pang of disappointment. He had hoped his Padawan would come to him after making his escape, would share in his escapades with Qui-gon over a glass of Nemishian tea, that they would laugh like two younglings as he and Rael had every year until Qui-gon’s Knighting.

But like most other parts of their partnership, this, too, Obi-wan seemed to approach with cool, measured detachment. 

Obi-wan brightened at the question, however, pulling out a crisp holoprogram from his robes. “It was delightful, Master! Master Dooku and I had a splendid time. He even treated me to a Drynarian spiced wine during the second intermission.”

Qui-gon gaped at his student, certain he had heard him incorrectly. His eyes flitted to the cover of the holoprogram - The Fall of the House of Carellic - emblazoned in regal Aurebesh and Serennian script. 

“You - you stayed?”

Obi-wan furrowed his brow. “Of course, Master. Granted, the opera as a whole was a bit bloated, the singers past their prime - Brigindia the Breadthful’s range didn’t quite match up to her alias and Hagvor the Hu - “ Obi-wan hissed, his cheeks flushing red. “Well, Master Dooku said that wasn’t really his name, that it was a ‘improper moniker bestowed upon a great artist for base reasons.’ I didn’t ask after it, but he was alright, as tenors go.”

“But Padawan, the letter-opener I gave you - “ Qui-gon stammered. Not that he had expected Obi-wan to stab anybody with it in an attempt to escape the opera, far from it. But he had thought - Qui-gon let out a breath - hell, he didn’t know - maybe rip a curtain or sabotage some official’s clothing? 

“Oh yes, that was quite useful Master, thank you,” Obi-wan beamed. “The packaging on those meiloorun pastries can rather difficult.”

Qui-gon nodded dumbly at his Padawan. 

“Oh, before I forget, Master, this is for you, from Master Dooku.” Obi-wan held out a flimsi, folded in half, Qui-gon’s name printed in familiar, elegant script. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a shower and a short nap before the day begins.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Padawan,” Qui-gon said, distracted, not bothering to close the door as Obi-wan hopped out of the room.

With no small degree of trepidation, Qui-gon opened the note.

“Qui-gon - 

I would like to thank you for allowing me to borrow your charge for the evening. It is rare to encounter a young mind with such intellect, curiosity, and, shall I say, an inherent sense of taste and propriety. I find myself wanting to repeat the experience, if Obi-wan (and you) should be open to it. 

As for your letter-opener, I am disappointed that you would arm your student with such an unimaginative weapon. I would say that next year you should confer with Rael in the matter, but I do believe that will not be necessary, given Obi-wan’s sincere enthusiasm throughout the evening. Senator Rembran of Gorrusk sends his regards to you, as he does every year. Ever since the incident at the bar, he has been convinced of the Jedi’s importance in the Republic, so I must thank you for the unintended repercussion of your clumsy sabotage those years ago.

Brigindia and Hagvor also send their regards to Rael. I do hope you didn’t share the mortifying origins of Hagvor’s colorful moniker with your student. He has yet to encounter Rael Averross in person, and I would prefer he and Obi-wan to meet without any prurient preconceptions, as Rael is a good, if infuriating man. How he remains my former pupil is still one of the great mysteries of the galaxy.

Finally, I would like to extend an invitation for you to join me (and Obi-wan, again, if it is to be allowed) for next year’s production of The Sentinel’s Progress, which has not been staged in over a millenia. I am told it is a most inaccurate depiction of our ancient Serennian culture and I would be glad to share my thoughts with you and your Padawan. Of course, if you feel the need to come armed with a letter-opener, you need but slip the blade through Madame Tursky’s silver gown-train. Rumor has it she is most protective of her honor and can be seen hovering near the mezzanine-level bar like a drunken hawkbat at most intermissions. 

Until then, Padawan. And may the Force be with you.

             —Best Regards,

                    Yan Dooku”

On regard of Mitsuru’s mental state

So, since I’ve seen some kind of discussion going on in regards of Ichihoshi possibly having mental illness, I decided to do some research and here’s my hot take on it:

He does, or at least, if the show wasn’t strictly for kids and didn’t magically cure illness without properly addressing them because of the sensitive target, then Ichihoshi would probably have a case of Depression+BPD

Why? Well here are some extracts that luckily will help you understand my point! If you’re triggered by mental illness talk I suggest for you to skip this post and blacklist the tag “mental illness” cause I will always put it in my posts about the matter and I don’t want for you to feel uncomfortable!

ON CHILDREN DEPRESSION

“Nadine M. Melhem, Ph.D., of the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, and colleagues identified 140 families in which one parent died of suicide, accident or sudden natural death. They were compared with 99 control families in which two parents were living and no first-degree relatives had died within the past two years. The offspring, ages 7 to 25, underwent interviews and assessments for psychiatric disorders. The results of the survey showed that children’s symptoms after the loss of a parent were depression, anxiety, PTSD, suicidal behavior and complicated grief (severe, lasting unhappiness).

The symptoms of depression in children vary. It is often undiagnosed and untreated because they are passed off as normal emotional and psychological changes that occur during growth.

Signs and symptoms of depression in children include:

Irritability or anger

Continuous feelings of sadness and hopelessness

Social withdrawal”

ON BPD

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). People with BPD are often exceptionally enthusiastic, idealistic, joyful, and loving.

However, they may feel overwhelmed by negative emotions (“anxiety, depression, guilt/shame, worry, anger, etc.”), experiencing intense grief instead of sadness,

shame and humiliation instead of mild embarrassment, rage instead of annoyance, and panic instead of nervousness.”

ON DEPRESSION+BPD

“the quality of depression seems to be different in BPD. For example, whereas depression is typically associated with feelings of sadness or guilt, depression in BPD has been described as being associated with feelings of anger,

deep shame (i.e., feeling emotionally like a bad or evil person),

loneliness, and emptiness. Further, depressed episodes in people with BPD are often triggered by interpersonal losses.”

Since Ichihoshi’s dad death and Hikaru’s hospitalisation occurred when he was very young, not older than 10 I believe, there are high chances of him developing both illness. Given that one of the environmental factors cause of BPD is being exposed to chronic fear or distress as a child and that the same goes for child depression, plus the fact that it’s possible for the two illness to coexist (as shown before) and that Mitsuru presents lots of the symptoms listed, I think it’s not too farfetched for us to believe so. Despite the fact that the show won’t address this matter, I believe that if we were to do realistic headcanons then we would not be in the wrong at all!

"Don' matter. Enemy or no, Fei's our friend. 'll get'im back. By force if I have to." - Kurosaki Yukine

"Yeah!" - Raimon

Genda: Tsuki! Hey. Have you seen the thing?

Lina: Depends on what "thing" you're talking about, Koujirou.

Genda (searching the whole house): Oh, you know. The thing. I might have misplaced it. And you're going to kill me, because it's very important to you.

Yukine walking up from the basement: Why are ya runnin'? And heya, Koujirou, Lina.

Genda: Oh! There it is.

Lina: ...

Lina: You lost Songbird? In our house. Really?

Inspired by this:

I cannot resist Papa Wolf Silco. So here is a comic I made over break.

I feel like this happened at some point

[3am]

Hiroto: Haizaki, wake up.

Haizaki,annoyed: What is it?

Hiroto: When butterflies fall in love, do they feel humans in their stomach?

Haizaki:

Hiroto:

Haizaki: What the actual fuck-

Haha I'm having emotions~

Okay, secretly, or not so secretly, I really like the idea of Dooku and Ahsoka as a duo?? Nno no listen, it's wholesome I know nobody cares butT

I like Dooku as he was prior to the Disneyfication of Star Wars. The guydude who called Obi Wan his grandson before asking Palpanite to spare his life? That one, your honor.

Cause my HC (supported by Episode 3 zhe novel and Labyrith of Evil) is that after losing Qui, Dooku did an oopsie. He channeled the dark side. Maybe it was just for a moment. But somehow, in the old story, Dooku finds Darth Sidious on his own, he figures it out or senses him. Doesn't tell any of the Jedi cause fuck those losers they let his padawan die! and he goes to wreck Palpatene's ass (But Palpitane got in his head, and yeah..)

Before all that, Dooku was supposed to take Yoda's place as the next Grand Master of the Order. (I haven't read that, somebody told me that. Idk how credible it is, but I dig it as an idea and I think it makes sense)

My point is, I assume that losing Qui Gon was a big deal to Dooku. A big enough deal to throw his entire life and work out the windu. On top of that, I think Ahsoka and Qui Gon share some personality traits that I find important in this case: they're both stubborn imps, they value the work of a Jedi more than the title of a Jedi, they both look inward for answers, they're both Consulares, etc.

Putting all of this together, if I could add something to Dooku's story, it would be him meeting Ahsoka as a baby.

No I will not shut up about this ☝️☝️☝️

Because Dooku was a bad bitch but a good politician, and thought slavery was barbaric, it wouldn't be impossible for him to sense Ahsoka while visiting Shili on a "diplomatic" mission? He'd also have the money to pay off the imposter Jedi or have the skill to, at least, expose them.

(I see Dooku as the Qui Gon of the Sith btw. Like they're both very grey but on opposite sides of the spectrum..)

Dooku would take Ahsoka with him but he wouldn't tell Pilpitine. Dooku wouldn't trust that Ddried up cucumbér and more importantly, Dooku might've been angry with the Jedi but he didn't hate them like Anakin did. Dooku would take Ahsoka with the intention of giving her to the Order.

He would call someone like Master Plo, someone trustworthy, because I think Dooku didn't regret his decision for leaving the Jedi. But he might have regretted leaving without somebody there to replace him?

If Qui Gon was alive and Dooku still fell to the dark somehow, he'd have left knowing Qui Gon was there.

I think Ahsoka embodies a lot of the Jedi spirit™ that Qui Gon had and the heart or Hope that Luke has. If Dooku had met her it would help heal some of his wounds and subsequently pull him away from the dark side. If only by a little tiny bit.

But it would be enough, if over time he watched her grow by his grandpadawan's and Anakin's side. It would take more energy for him to channel his powers and it would add to his weakened state if he suddenly had hope!

In the beginning of Episode 3, he loses to Anakin a little too easily (and pls I don't wanna hear about Anakin being the chosen one, he could be Avril Lavigne's double for all I care here). And in many versions of the story it's said that the Dark Side feeds on the people that use it and weakens them. Like what force lightning did to Pilpatene.

👉👈

Okay I'll come clean.

I hate when characters just die and nothing happens. Dooku died and nothing happened.

But if he knew Ahsoka was still somewhere out there. If he had pulled some strings here and there to ensure her safety? Then that means Dooku died with a little bit of hope... And that's what Star Wars is all ABOOT!!!

And I would have them meet again when Ahsoka had to battle her darker emotions inbetween Episode 3 and and the Mandalorian BUT that's another talk for another time when I'm on crack and need to scream about them again

Boop