#(SO YES ANYWAY sorry I cannot join in on that shared fandom experience)
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bluedalahorse ¡ 1 year ago
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Oh wow, this is an excellent post! These are the kinds of things I wish I knew when I wrote my meta on philosophies of justice in YR a while back. The focus on what rehabilitative justice looks like in theory and practice was especially interesting to me, living in a country where justice is much, much more retributive, even for minors.
(This may not be a popular opinion for me to hold in this fandom, but an ending where Wilhelm and Simon get a sweet Happily Ever After won’t feel fully—hopeful? cathartic? something—to me unless it’s also an ending where August has a fighting chance at rehabilitation. I don’t condone what he did one bit, but I also don’t want to see a scenario where he’s never able to change and grow—or worse, where he becomes a repeat offender, forever trapped in a cycle of hurting others and himself. I also find “rehabilitation” to be a more interesting idea to explore than “redemption” which is a word that feels like it carries too much baggage from fandoms past. We don’t have to see it all happen onscreen but I just want to know there’s the possibility of it, somehow.)
The notes on Simon and Wilhelm and how they fit into things was also fascinating. It’s clear to me that Lisa set all the crimes up to be very entangled, and didn’t create space for an easy solution. I have no idea how she’s going to untangle all of it in six episodes, but I’m so curious to see how everything’s gonna play out.
Thank you so much for sharing, @sflow-er!
YR Season 3 speculations: a layperson’s take on the criminal justice side
I’ve been considering making this kind of post for a while, because I’ve seen a lot of hopeful takes on how things are going to play out now that Sara has called the police, and I feel like I could add some perspective for those less familiar with the Swedish justice system. I hesitate to do it because I’m just a layperson and not even from Sweden but the next country over - but our justice systems are reasonably similar, I’ve spent a lot of time poring over relevant sources on Swedish law and justice, and @scatteredpiecesofme encouraged me to do this after our conversation yesterday.
So, here goes, haha.
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As usual, I could very well be wrong about some things, and I welcome any additions or corrections!
Keep reading
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starcanwrecked-confessions ¡ 6 months ago
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so uh. I am “Cis Boy Anon” I guess I’m being called now and I just wanted to. Apologize and clarify a bit for my previous confession. I already sent something like this, but it wasn’t posted I thought of a bunch of other stuff to say immediately afterward.
First, I am very sorry for any harm I may have caused. That was not my intention. I acted very childish.
Second. I at no point was trying to say I spoke for all cis people. I was sharing my own experience and opinion. It was a bad opinion, and am not trying to imply that anyone else shared anything like it.
Third. I was… in a bad headspace when I wrote that. I’ve grown kind of frustrated and disillusioned with this fandom recently, as every single time I’ve tried to share my thoughts and opinions they’ve just been ignored. I feel very left out of the discussion, and it has discouraged me from trying to actually join.
Fourth. I do not despise anyone for having trans headcanons. I have a couple of my own. But to see it be one of the only things talked about, and it being something that I didn’t really feel I could take part in, it caused me to feel a lot of unearned hate towards it.
Fifth and finally. About people “not wanting to hear the opinions of cis man”. That’s a me problem. I do not value my own opinions much and am afraid that I will be hated for them. It is something that I need to work on, and I should not have it about gender. That was very childish of me.
Anyway. I apologize for any harm I may have caused, and I thank you all for your patience.
P.S: “Go cry cis boy” is iconic.
Ok the first two point are fine but I want to address the rest:
#3 your frustration and feeling of being left out should not end up being left down too "I don't like people I having trans headcanons, you should listen to cis ppl instead". Idc that your "worded it badly", that's basically what you said
#4 I'm not sure where you're getting it being "one of the only things talked about", trans headcanons and headcanons in general are a big part of the fandom yes but that's how it is for most fandoms, but so much other stuff is talked in this fandom as well. Also just because you are cis doesn't mean you cannot at all partake and trans headcanons, as long as you're not lying or something and claiming "oh I'm the trans and see this character as trans bc it lines up with my experience" then you're fine
#5 it is not just childish if you to have said that. So many transphobes and queerphobes say stuff about how cis straight white men are the minority and aren't listen too. You were reiterating a transphobic idea
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chili-aux ¡ 3 years ago
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Im honestly so done with aot fandom wars really. I now let people spew whatever shit they want. It gets toxic in the end. I started hating so many characters because of this irritating fandom till I realized that a bunch of teenagers dont have the right to steal my love for this story away from me. Theyre so ridiculous really it looks like a bunch of kids decided to watch AOT and miss the point entirely. Yams wrote a beautiful story that gets more interesting when you reread it. I wasnt even aware of shipping wars till I finished the manga only to realize its hellfire here. I just assumed oh Erwin loved Marry but chose the corps how sad. Shadis had a thing for Carla. Bittersweet. Oh Ymir and Historia loved each other. Tragic. Reiner is a historia simp great. Oh Levi and Hanji are closeted lovers who just cant accept they're into each other. And thats it. But I went online just to see wow manga discussions yaaay and I ran into middle school children shipping Levi with Eren/Mikasa I mean are you ok? Are you not unhinged? Do you need therapy? Seriously guys wtf? Levi/Erwin? WTF? They're literally brothers wtf? Hange/Moblit, WTF? Are you even aware of the concept of friendship and loyalty that runs in the army? Do you think everyone in the army is in love with each other wtf is this logic Im sorry Im so done with this fandom. AOT deserved better fans who'd appreciate the story and its depth. Apart from a few plotholes that made no sense. (Especially hanji's useless fking death, dude she could've lived ok its so unfair. Anyways) I also can't stand it when people start making Yuri and Yaoi ships of two clearly straight characters. I don't mind if you ship characters within a show that have some sort of legitimacy FROM THE SOURCE MATERIAL. But literally changing everything about characters just so they can fit your idea of a stupid ship is pathetic. A character is so much more than someone you ship with someone. Grow tf really.
hi anon, thank you for sharing! i am tired too. i honestly cannot wait for the time i will get over this anime, but if that time comes, i will still ship levihan and probably continue making fanfics about them. at this moment though, I still hyper-fixate on this ship.
I agreed with some of your points, like that with a bunch of kiddos ruining our experience cuz damn, I've seen it a lot after I joined the fandom but I just stayed on my place and blocked a lot of them for peace of mind. And really, at first, I don't have any ship in aot not until i rewatched it for the 2nd time, that's when I have noticed levihan's bond then boom, I'm riding this ship forever. But when I dove through aottwt, I discovered that eren-levi and those ships that involved a veteran and a 104th member exist, damn I just wanna cringe so hard (or i did cringe hard) cuz why? that's fukcing illegal, my brain can't even comprehend why some people ship those characters who obviously treat each other in canon in a parental-child way.
and hange's death? so true! it's just useless when falco will have the ability to turn into a titan and fly by the later chapters -_- they're just one day away from the end of the rumbling but... fck I'm sad again.
however, i do not agree with some of your points.
disclaimer: I'm not mad anon!
eruri and mobuhan aren't illegal. people can ship them cuz of the exact reason that you said - the concept of friendship and loyalty that runs in the army. i admit I cannot see levi/erwin and hange/moblit in a romantic relationship too like how you perceived it, they're just more like superior-subordinate for me that I can't affiliate their relationship to bud in something that will surpass that. but the loyalty and friendship between those characters, i think, are enough for other people to ship them. why? because there aren't any spoken rules in shipping so we don't have the right to dictate what they ship (proshippers aren't included. stop.)
and babe, what's wrong with yuri and yaoi ships?? aot characters' genders aren't mentioned in the source material (though i see hange as nonbinary cuz of the searches that i made before when i kept on seeing gender wars that always involved hange.)
the case is, there's this term called 'projecting'. people are often doing this in the fictional characters that they love - projecting their identity or what they headcanon about this certain character that, whether we like it or not, often diverge away from the source material. i believed that there's no harm in doing so. they see erwin as gay? let them. they see nanaba as nonbinary? let them. they see levi as pansexual? let them. they ship mikasasha? let them. they ship ererei(erenxreiner)? let them.
it's pride month babe. and even if it's not pride month, people can ship yaoi and yuri. people can project their identities that they cannot express in real life to their favorite characters. and you can't stop them from doing so no matter what. that is their decision and we don't have a say on that. it's not pathetic nor dumb.
but yes, do not reduce any character to ship material. that's downright stupid. and as anon said, grow the fuck up.
thank you for sharing still. and as I've said, I'm not mad! i just want to clear some things that i don't share the same sentiment with you.
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eveningstar1516 ¡ 3 years ago
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Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 11
Rise of the Demon King
Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:
After that day, Beel would take responsibility for waking the youngest whenever he slept for too long and Belphie took responsibility for making sure Beel ate whenever he was awake. From that day forward, you’d never find one twin without the other close by. Their relationship strengthened, one relying on the other. Always being there when needed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 11 - 2 Realms, 2 Families (2003 words)
Making my way up the palace steps, I took notice of the lack of angels tending the gardens or palace. Oh well, I thought to myself. It is still too early for any of them to get to work. Michael led me through the castle towards the throne room. It was the same route we took on my first day here, only this time, I had a sneaking suspicion that it was about to be my last. Stopping in front of the door, Michael announced our presence and waited for the angels inside to open the doors for us. I’ve been in the throne room a small handful of times since my first day. Today, however, the atmosphere felt a little off. Normally, one would feel a sense of dread walking into this room, as it usually meant punishment. All ceremonies took place in the garden, the throne room being deemed as an unofficial courtroom. Today the atmosphere felt almost, denser than usual. Michael and I made our way towards the throne and kneeled before Father.
“Rise”
Both of us responded with a “Thank you Father” as we stood. God turned to face me.
“I apologize for calling for you this late. I do hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Not to worry Father, I was actually up finishing this week's work when Michael came to get me. If I may ask, why did you want to see me?”
“I called you to make an offer. I have observed how you ran the council this past millennium. I’ve seen your leadership and your dedication to your job. I’d like to offer you a permanent spot on the council.”
“Father, I’m sure-”
“I’m well aware of our initial deal. Bear in mind that this will not impede on your ability to see the Sins again. As head of the council, it will be your job to oversee business in the Devildom as Michael had been while you were here. You will be able to travel between the realms for business and visit the brothers while you’re there.”
“But I’d have to return and continue serving you, won’t I?”
“That is correct. You are a unique individual Y/N. You are a human with the blood of a fallen, you accepted the demons and was still elevated to the Celestial realm. As such, you have experience from all three realms. This is a powerful tool to have.”
“For you. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I am not interested in staying, nor am I interested in allowing you access to this “tool” as you so crudely labelled my experience. I made it abundantly clear that I serve you under the condition that I return once Lord Diavolo has been crowned. As the Father of the Celestials, I expect that your promises would be kept. Unless that is your telling me I’d have more luck trusting a demon if I wanted promises kept?”
“Y/N! While you’re here, you still serve Father. You cannot speak to him like that!”
“I’m not wrong though am I? If that is all, I’d like to get some rest before reporting in. Good evening, or should I say morning?” I didn’t wait for a response as I bowed to Father and walked out of the throne room without so much of a glance back.
“I apologize Father. I will see that they don’t speak that way to you again.”
“That’s quite alright Michael.”
“Father?”
“I find it to be one of their more enduring qualities. They don’t take anything from anyone, regardless of their position. It’s a valuable trait to have, if used correctly.”
“Father, you weren’t really going to cement their position as the leader of the council, were you?”
“No, I knew they wouldn’t have agreed anyway. I wanted to test them. By offering the position permanently, they would have gained an abundance of power and authority.”
“Instead they turned it down to be with Samael and his brothers. I still don’t understand what they see in them.”
“It would be wise to re-think your opinion on Lucifer and his family. Contrary to what you think, they haven’t changed much. If you looked at it from an outsider's perspective, perhaps you’ll find that they’re still very much angelic.”
“Are you seriously telling me that with a straight face? I appreciate your suggestion Father, however, I highly doubt my opinion on them could change.”
“I am not telling you to change your thoughts about them overnight.” Standing up God stepped down and put a firm hand on Michael’s shoulder.
“I’m just reminding you that Pride is a sin.” God exited the throne room towards his personal chambers leaving a perplexed Michael standing in the throne room.
“I’m not prideful.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was wrong.
~3 Months Later~
“That is all for today. Does anyone else have anything that needs to be brought to attention before we leave?” I looked around the council table and took note of Azrael's continued absence. The angel of death was called for a quick meeting with God before the start of this meeting and had yet to return.
“Alright then. This meeting is adjourned. If anyone has anything they’d like to drop off, I’ll be working by the fountain." The council of 7 stood and started chatting amongst themselves as I packed up and left. A few weeks into leading the council, I found that much like the Devildom, I couldn’t find much peace anywhere indoors. As such, I turned to the gardens, in particular, the stone fountain. It reminded me of the one in my old village square back on earth and found a sense of peace here. I’m guessing the other angels got the hint of me needing some peace and quiet to complete my work as I’ve never been disturbed while I worked here. Anywhere else though, and it’s anyone’s game.
About halfway through my work, I decided it was a good time to take a break and get something to eat. Making my way to the makeshift kitchen area in the council building, I passed by Azrael and Michael conversing with each other. We exchanged some polite hello’s when something Azrael said caught my attention.
“I apologize for not making the meeting. There was an issue with a soul’s candle that was fluctuating that I had to deal with.”
“Fluctuating? I was under the impression that a soul’s candle can only slowly burn until the soul’s time runs out and the candle burns out or someone snuffs them out. How can a candle fluctuate?”
“It’s more like the candle was shifting, evolving. The flame itself is fine but the stick itself was changing. You see, the flame is just that, a flame that will never burn out until its designated time, or if as you put it, someone snuffs it out. It’s the stick that holds most of the magic. The type of wax used identifies the soul, its nature, and where it’s destined. Only angels of death, or reapers, can tamper with the stick and alter it, however, it seems this stick is changing itself without outside interference from myself or another reaper.”
“The stick is evolving on its own and this is a cause for concern because this type of thing shouldn’t be possible and has never happened before?”
“Essentially.”
“What did you do about it?”
“For now, nothing. We’ve tried manually altering it ourselves but it keeps rejecting the change. I have a junior reaper watching it now. He’ll update me if anything changes. That is all I can tell you for now.”
“That understandable, thank you for sharing anyway. Good luck with the candle.” At that, my stomach rumbled.
“Go enjoy your lunch” Azrael replied, walking away with Michael.
“Why did you tell them all of that?” Michael demanded of Azrael.
“They have a right to know. Besides nothing would be gained by hiding it from them. It’s best they are aware of the situation.”
“That’s not your call to make Az.” Michael responded angrily as he stopped. Azrael turned to face him, a calm mask slipped on.
“Yes, it is Michael. It’s my call as the leader of the reapers and the overseer of their candle. What isn’t right is how you keep insisting that they be left in the dark, blissfully ignorant. Despite what you may think, they are a bright soul and have brought much light with them, even to the brothers. I understand why you feel about them the way you do, but times have changed. They have changed, and so have the rest of us. Everyone but you. It’s time you change too before you do something you’ll regret.” With that, Azrael left, leaving Michael standing there thinking about what the reaper had said and thought back to what their Father had said 3 months ago. Threading his fingers in his hair, he made his way to his office, hoping to distract himself from these thoughts with some extra work.
~7 Years later~
“Y/N'' I woke up realizing that I fell asleep at my desk again. Looking up, I saw Uriel looking down at me. His hand on my right shoulder shaking me awake.
“Father would like to see you. Go get dressed please. I’ll be waiting outside.” Uriel left, closing the door behind him. I leaned back thinking about why God would want to see me, especially this early in the morning.
Not wanting to Uriel waiting for too long, I tidied up the papers at my desk, and sleepily made my way to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready. Once I finished, Uriel and I set out except this time, instead of heading to the palace, we headed for the gates.
When we arrived, I found that the rest of the council including Azreal and Simeon were already there and waiting for us. We landed and bowed our respects towards Father. Uriel joined the council in a semi-circle behind God.
“Y/N, as I’m sure you realized, the time has come for you to return to the Devildom. I offer you one last chance to stay here. You should know that once an angel falls, they’re not allowed back. Y/N, if you through with this, you will be cast out from the Celestial realm. Are you ready to make that sacrifice?” Looking to the council standing behind God. I recalled the past millennia I spent with them. While I tried to keep a professional relationship with them, they ended up growing on me and we became a little family of our own. I realized that I was going to end up missing them. None of that matters though, not anymore. I’m finally going home, to my real family. To the brothers. Ignoring God, I addressed the angels gathered behind him.
“Thank you, all of you. Despite our differences, you all still accepted me and let me into this little family of yours. I’ll be sure to remember all you’ve done for me and I hope we could meet again someday. Oh and Mike.” Michael looked at me, surprised that I singled him out. “You don’t belong down there. Don’t forget that.” I turned back to God giving him my answer.
“Yes, I am willing.” Giving me a nod of affirmation, God addressed me for the last time.
“Y/N, Virtue of Loyalty and former leader of the virtues.  I hereby strip you of your angelic status and cast you out into the Devildom for the sin of misplaced loyalty.” I faced the edge, ready to jump when I realized I had forgotten something. Turning around, I looked God straight in the eyes and threw the strongest right hook I had ever thrown in my life before jumping backwards, tucking in my wings and closing my eyes. A content sigh leaving my lips as I let the darkness engulf me whole.
I’m coming guys. Wait up for me
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iwrestlenow ¡ 4 years ago
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Many More To Die, Chapter 8
TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 8)
FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)
SUMMARY: Roman and Logan reconnect. Remus and Virgil find some common ground. There are too many secrets--but the royals finally expose a big one to the Crofter brothers: the one that ultimately led to Logan's imprisonment and the destruction of their family.
Meanwhile, Janus is looking for some information from his treasure trove--and Patton is more than happy to provide it to him.
SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and future Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)
WARNINGS: I’m nervous about this one, ‘cause it sucks? But I also don’t care cause there are cuddles for my fave ships and I do what I want.
I am, however, SO SORRY FOR THIS TERRIBLE CLIFFHANGER, but the next chapter will come out much sooner. Promise. XD
Also, no betas, we die like men.
NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD
Also located at AO3 over here.
1033, A.A.
Logan asked Virgil to leave. With murder in his eyes, Virgil acquiesced.
And when the door clicked shut...they were alone.
For long moments, the silence was deafening. They sat there, staring at each other—Logan seated on the edge of the bed, and the king with the blankets pooled around his waist, bare chested and staring at Logan as if...
Logan's mouth suddenly went dry as his heart seemed to grow in his chest, swelling to the point that it compressed his lungs against his ribcage, preventing him from drawing breath.
Silently, Roman extended his hand, palm up. It took Logan abruptly back to the visitations in his dreams, anchored by the feel of human contact he thought he had only before imagined. The reality of it was so much more, so intense—so necessary he could hardly stand to think about it.
And yet, with the king's silent offer, Logan was helpless to resist it, reaching out to slide his hand into Roman's. Their fingers meshed with the ease of experience—through dreams or through the history that had been stolen from him, Logan could not say, but that alien ecstasy of skin on skin felt so right it hurt.
“I have dreamed of this for so long.”
Logan looked up from where he'd been staring at their joined hands, spellbound. For a day now, he'd been in the presence of his Green Man, seen his true face, but this was the first time he'd actually been alone with him since...
“So have I.” he confessed. “Every time you came to me.”
Roman blinked, confused—then a light went on behind his eyes, making them snap with something electric and so alive it made Logan's chest tight.
“They...were real.” he realized. “I wasn't dreaming.”
“You were, but... we were inhabiting the same dream at the same time.” Logan explained softly. “Knowing who you are now, it's unsurprising. Conduits cannot use the magic within them, but it does make certain forms of involuntary magic possible—such as dream walking.”
“I've never done it with anyone else before.”
Logan frowned. “That is unusual. If that was the case, the ability would be consistent.”
He paused, then felt something in the core of him tremble with...a feeling he could not name, even reluctantly. It was light and fragile and enormously powerful—and Logan wasn't totally sure if it was good or bad.
“Did...did we share dreams...before?” he asked hesitantly.
Roman smiled, sad, tremulous, and hesitant in his own right.
“It's...a complicated thing to explain.” he confessed. “I don't have all the answers.”
“Do you have any?”
“I do. If you want them.”
“Why would I not want them?” Logan asked.
Something slid through Roman's eyes, dimming their light, and it ripped through Logan with a fury that had no root, no real cause.
Only that something dared to darken his demeanor, and with terrifying clarity Logan knew he would even destroy himself were he to discover that he was the cause of it.
“Because I'm a royal?” he pointed out. “Because my family did this to your people...because I did this to you?”
“Falsehood.”
Roman smiled, and Logan felt suddenly powerful. He felt...he felt, with no anchor for any of these feelings. It was deeply disconcerting—and it was also intoxicating.
“Hearing that again is almost as comforting as hearing you call me an idiot.” Roman laughed, squeezing his hand. “I missed it.”
Logan felt dizzy with the gaping hole in his chest, the warmth of Roman's touch—the world, every breath, every second that ticked by, it all suddenly felt like too much to hold inside of him. If he could remember, maybe he could bear it, maybe he could handle the things that his fingers and his heart seemed to know as he clung to the king's hand and stood on the edge of a chasm of years that stretched between them with no memory of how it got there.
“I do not remember,” he managed to choke out, “but...I think I did, too.”
“Oh, Starlight...”
Roman pulled him forward, and suddenly Logan was being held, cradled against acres of bare flesh and solid muscle. His lungs were filled with the scent of warm cotton and sweet skin, tinged with something that reminded him of fresh earth and damp stone—not the rank stone of the dungeons, but granite and petrichor, fresh from a gentle, cleansing rain.
Logan could not have stopped himself from clinging as Roman held him, not even if he wanted to—and he didn't want to stop.
“Tell me?” A question, whispered against his shoulder as he was held in strong arms and drowned in the warmth of safety and affection.
Roman did not hesitate to open his mouth and start talking—and he kept talking until there was nothing left.
Until Logan finally knew everything.
********** 1022, A.A.
“Okay, wait, so—familiars are human?”
Logan laughed—one of the greatest sounds in the world, as far as Roman was concerned. It was rare as diamonds, soft as a whisper, and always so filled with bright, gleaming emotion that it made him happy even if he was having the worst possible day.
Roman lived for his laugh—among other things. Logan's eyes, Logan's intelligence...Father called it that 'special age,' told him that he'd started noticing how certain boys made him feel when he was thirteen, but this wasn't just...
Logan was younger than him by two whole years—it might as well be decades. Besides, Logan probably liked girls, and oh yeah, he was a Weaver. Being one of the Necromata was one thing, but Weavers were revered among his people. Even if liking a necromancer wasn't a crime, Logan's family wouldn't want him to have anything to do with an outsider like Roman. He'd learned that much in two years of friendship with him.
Two years of hiding how he really spent his afternoons away from the tutors. Two years of learning the truth about how good and kind and generous the Necromata were...how good and kind and generous Logan was.
“Yes, familiars are human.” Logan replied, sweeping the flat stone marker of the grave they were tending. “Virgil—my little brother, the one I call Stormcloud—is my Spider, the keeper of the Loom of Memory.”
Roman risked peeking out from under the hood of the cloak hiding his face to follow the tilt of Logan's head to the eight year old boy on the other side of the open field. He was small and slight, with a shock of black hair like Logan's, save that his gleamed blue-black in the sun where Logan's shone with the most subtle red-brown hints of dark cherry wood. When he faced them, beaming up at the massive redhead that Logan had identified as their grandfather, Roman could see that Virgil's eyes were dark compared to Logan's startling blue.
Over the last couple of years, Logan had gradually shared the True Names of his whole family with Roman. Outlaw was his grandfather, Josiah. Rainbow was his pari, Talyn. Joan was his geni, Elliot. He'd trusted Roman with that knowledge...but Virgil, his little brother, the person Logan loved more than life itself (and possibly more than jam tarts), he'd protected.
Until now. Now, he'd let Roman in all the way—in more ways than one, given where they were.
While Logan finished sweeping the headstone clean, Roman watched the countless other families among Logan's tribe attending similar areas just like they were. Some were cleaning other graves, others were scouring the ground for signs of unmarked ones, others still were tending the trees in the open field that needed pruning or fertilization to grow healthy and strong over the graves they stood as markers for.
The Festival of the Forgotten that came every autumn was a day Roman had only ever known as one of solemn remembrance for those who had fallen to the Animator's slaughter a thousand years ago. He got dressed up in his formal attire, stood by Father's side while he gave speeches at the palace memorial, and basically spent the day being as quiet and unobtrusive as possible.
Logan had treated the whole thing with open disdain and offense when Roman explained it to him—then told him what the real Festival was all about.
The Festival wasn't happening for a week yet, but the Necromata were already preparing. For Logan's people, it was a week long celebration of the dead that involved hard work and loving attention. The field they were in had once been a graveyard in the time before the Animator, and many of the dead who lay in repose below the earth had been lost to time. Some had no names to be remembered, others had no lineage to go after them, still more were buried carelessly without even a marker to their name.
The Necromata took custody of these dead, trying to give them remembrance even if they couldn't give them names. All week, they carefully cleaned the field up, tended what few graves they could identify, looked for others—and at the end, had a giant party full of food, music, and drink. They decorated graves, left offerings for the departed, and kept the forgotten souls company with laughter and song. They would soak the earth and the air with enough joy and celebration to ensure that these lost ones would have comfort enough to take them through the year, when they would do it all over again.
Roman had been humbled by the true story of the Festival—and so Logan had invited him to attend. Both the party, and the stewardship of the dead.
“Familiars enhance the power of their necromancer in different ways.” Logan continued once Roman had given him his attention again. “A Black Dog has their Wolf, who acts as their spirit guide through their visions. A Reaper has their Raven, who helps them take the pain away from those they heal or release—and a Weaver has their Spider, who spins the fibers for the Loom of Memory. When a Weaver reaches the Loom, it's very much like the real thing: a visual representation, where a soul to be resurrected is mounted like a half finished tapestry, and the Weaver completes it with the connection he has to his Spider.”
“What does the fiber represent?” Roman asked as Logan stepped back, dropping his broom and moving to crouch before the worn headstone while Roman quickly followed suit. “The fiber your Spider spins?”
“Focus. Virgil gives me his focus to aid me in retrieving the memories I need to restore the soul to life. With his mind working in tandem with mine, it's like I'm weaving with a shuttle wound in spider silk, and it allows me to finish my work much more quickly. It ensures the tapestry lasts longer once it's taken off the loom before it unravels...before the soul I raise to life slips away again.”
Roman didn't like the way Logan's features fell a little at that. Ever since his Warping, Roman knew that Logan was troubled by the idea that there were people he couldn't fully resurrect—those not meant to die, he could save, but those whose soul had slipped through the opening in the Barrier carved for them at the moment of their death? Those were temporary—and the few times he'd half restored a soul like that as part of his training lingered with him.
Knowing he could say nothing to comfort him, instead Roman turned his attention to the smooth granite surface before them.
“You said this grave was new, right?”
Logan nodded, shifting to kneel while Roman remained in his crouch—and with hardly a care, rested an arm on Roman's knee so he could lean forward and peer at the gravestone. The touch made Roman's heart flip in his chest, but he tried to focus on the task at hand.
“Grandpap discovered it last year while they were digging out the roots of a dead tree. We replanted it over there to better mark the site because the stone's been worn so flat.”
Roman frowned, reaching down to run his fingers over the stone. “This poor person will never have a name now.”
“Sadly, no.” Logan agreed, reaching down to lay his hand against Roman's atop the stone. “Whatever epitaph was on this stone was worn away hundreds of years ago—“
“What's that?”
Roman, reluctantly, slid his hand out from under Logan's to run his fingers along the base of the stone.
“See this ridge? There's something beneath it...here, help me...”
The earth was damp, and for a moment Roman was left to dig on his own, fingers sinking into the loamy earth at the base of the stone. In truth, it was fun—feeling the grit under his fingernails, the ache of muscles as he clawed at the dirt.
Only when he started to uncover a broader base on the stone did Logan move to start helping him dig.
After about five minutes, they had exposed a second, broader slab beneath the stone. This one, heavily covered by dirt, seemed to be part of a larger piece that appeared to just...keep going.
“This isn't a headstone.” Logan realized. “It's a burial vault.”
Roman nodded. “I actually know what those are—big boxes for dead bodies, right? So they don't rot in the dirt. For the coffin to sit in!”
“Correct.” Logan murmured. “What's more, it's not buried all that deep. Perhaps, once upon a time, it wasn't buried at all.”
Roman thought about the last burial vault he'd seen—that of an adviser in his father's court council. He hadn't been buried in the royal mausoleum, being of common birth, but he'd been given a special place in the surrounding cemetery: an above ground burial vault, bearing the royal seal and just beneath it...
“This isn't a headstone.” he realized aloud, furiously going back to digging.
“That's what you said—”
“No, I mean this part! The crest of the royal family sits here, not the epitaph! We have burial vaults like these in the palace cemetery, and the name is always under this piece! Help me, Logan—we can find out who this is!”
Glancing to the side, he was pleased to see Logan adjusting his glasses, a restless sign of pleasure as he crowded closer to Roman's side.
“If the name was not exposed to the elements before it was buried, it might still be preserved.” he agreed.
“So we can help them?”
Logan nodded eagerly, making Roman grin. He was so happy, and it warmed Roman's heart—but so did the fact that they might actually be able to give some poor, forgotten dead necromancer back their name. The fact that Roman, himself, was helping to do this thing for one of the Necromata, an heir to the throne helping these good and caring and generous people that just wanted to make sure that the dead were remembered...
It gave him so much hope for the future. Logan gave him this hope by letting him in.
That was the moment Roman knew...
Refocusing on their new task, Roman began to dig in earnest. Logan shifted to reach for the broom, trying to scrape away the earth from the stone vault with the end of its handle. Gradually, they worked down a couple of inches until the edges of a very clear engraving became visible. First the frame, then what looked like...
“Numbers. These may be the dates of birth and death, if this person died Before Animator.” Logan murmured, jostling Roman in encouragement. “Keep going.”
Voices buzzed around them. The cool autumn air stung Roman's nose. His fingers were sore, cuticles caked with dirt. Logan was pressed securely to his side, digging tirelessly alongside him.
Time stopped. Nothing existed but the two of them, crowded close and digging, all heavy breath and exertion and movement, bumping and jostling in a strange rhythm that blurred the line between where one ended and the other began...
“...Roman.”
Roman blinked, shaking his head. He glanced at Logan, who'd gone ashen as he stared down at the inches of earth they had uncovered.
With a start, he realized they had finished. There, in worn but very clear lettering, was the epitaph of a forgotten corpse. Beneath the confusing dates of birth and death, there was a name.
Reading it, Roman could feel the blood leaving his face just as it had left Logan's.
“This...cannot be right.” Logan murmured.
“No, it can't.” Roman agreed softly, flopping artlessly back on his behind. Logan collapsed with him, half across Roman's lap, with Roman too stunned to fully take it in. “You said this was a burial ground for the Necromata.”
“It is.”
Roman met Logan's gaze, something sick and panicky forming a lump of ice in his throat.
“Then why, in the Seven Hells, is one of my ancestors buried here?”
**********
1033, A.A.
Few things in the world scared Remus—but that scrawny little necromancer fucking terrified him. The cadet wasn't much better, mostly because they were brothers.
Remus was smart. It was a problem, had been his whole life. For all that he knew, easily and quickly, there were few things he really understood, important things like personal boundaries and courtesy and the difference between things that were fascinating and things that were disturbing.
Brothers, however, he understood. Which was why the cadet was so fucking scary: look at either one of them wrong, and the other would take your fucking head off to defend them.
So Remus stayed in the shadows, watching the pipsqueak stomp around outside Roman's suite like he wanted to get caught by some other member of the palace guard, cursing just loud enough to be heard but not understood, vibrating with tension and so furious the air seemed to ripple around him with heat waves rising from his skin.
“Why is your brother alone with mine?”
Scary as the situation was, Remus found some deeply satisfying pleasure in watching Virgil Storm leap about six feet into the air with fright, choking on the scream he fought to stifle.
“Shadow's Balls, you miserable son of a bitch, what the hell are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?” he spat, clutching his chest with both hands.
Remus shrugged. “Hey, not my fault if you don't have the nerves for guard duty, toy soldier. Should've tried hiding in the kitchens instead. The wash boys bring the dungeon prisoners their daily meal.”
“I'm not guarding anything.” Virgil shot back, turning to glare at the closed door of Roman's suite. “I was sent away. By my own damn brother—doesn't remember shit, and he's still treating me like a little kid.”
“He's your big brother—that shit doesn't change with age.” Remus huffed. “Ro Ro's got a half life on me, and he makes use of ever second of it.”
Virgil looked at him strangely. “A half life? I thought you were twins.”
Remus shrugged. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”
“Can you speak in anything but sarcasm?”
“Can you address the crown prince with a little respect?”
“Not when I've seen the kind of people you sneak around with. Cadets pull a lot of graveyard shifts.”
Damn—the game of questions was just starting to get fun. The toy soldier wasn't just cute, he was feisty and totally lacked any fear of the throne. That was a problem, because Remus was actually starting to like the little shit.
“You're lucky I'm into that.” Remus quipped, but finally rolled his eyes and leaned back against the opposite wall of the corridor. “Fine: we're half-twins: identical, born one hour apart on the cusp. Roman came at eleven and I came at midnight. We celebrate our birthdays on the same day to hide that fact.”
Virgil went eerily still—and Remus's estimation of the kid went up a couple notches because of it.
“You do remember I'm Necromata, right?” he asked slowly. “Everyone in this castle knows you and your brother are both well versed in the ways of necromancy. You know what we can do with half-twins.”
Remus sobered, wondering for one irrational second if he'd been wrong. Wrong about the scrawny necromancer, wrong about the toy soldier, wrong about the limited amount of sense Roman had in his thick skull...
“Does anyone else know?” Virgil asked in the silence of Remus's brain spinning away from him.
Remus shook his head. “No, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“...you gonna kill me, Highness?”
Remus rushed him then, pinning Virgil to the wall with a hand wrapped around his throat.
“Only if I have to.” he warned quietly. He could hear his own heart beating in his ears, but it was slow, steady, far too calm. He could already imagine those gleaming dark eyes going flat and dead, that lovely pale skin going ashen as he choked the life from him, hear the bubble from his lungs as they gave up their last breath...
He'd do it. He'd sleep easy. He wouldn't regret a thing.
Not for Roman.
“I'm a little brother, too.” Virgil reminded him quietly, breathlessly—and for one split second, as Virgil reached up to wrap his hand around Remus's wrist, gentle but firm, he was kind of breathtaking. His pulse was jumping in his throat, every exhale was shaky and his lips were parted as he sucked down oxygen...
Remus let him go, but he didn't move away. He couldn't quite make himself, not when he suddenly felt like swallowing the terrified little spider whole.
“No one can know what Roman really is.” he whispered. “No one.”
“Make you a deal,” Virgil shot back, “you protect my big brother, and I'll protect yours.”
Remus narrowed his eyes...but it was what he wanted, after all, so he offered Virgil his hand to shake.
“Mutually assured destruction it is.” Remus agreed. “Can't trust a royal and all.”
Virgil had just wrapped his hand around Remus's when he blinked, startled. “I...yeah?”
Laughing, Remus shook his hand firmly, and let the world fall away for just a moment. His grip made it easy: firm, warm, strong.
“You're right about us, toy soldier: Roman and I? We're both pretty into necromancy. That means we know more than most about the royal family—at least I do. Roman...I'm not quite sure what he remembers anymore.”
“About what?” Virgil asked.
Remus released Virgil's hand, then sighed and shifted to press his back against the wall, sliding down to sit on the ground.
“Park it, Storm. There's a few things you need to know about my brother...and yours.”
**********
1022, A.A.
“It has to be a mistake.”
“It's not.” Logan insisted, reaching up to tug at his mask—he would have adjusted his glasses if he'd been wearing them, but he couldn't with the domino that covered his features, heavily adored with thick black feathers. Roman reached up to stop him before he could remove it.
“Can't be rude to the dead, can we?” Roman chided gently.
That got a smile out of Logan, despite the circumstances—almost as good as his laughter, and once again the spirit of the evening swept over him.
Five days had passed since the discovery in the graveyard. Earlier in the day, this day, he'd done his duty: donned his formal dress, stood beside his father, pretended to be solemn and respectful while, all the while, he'd been vibrating with excitement for this.
The final day of the Festival—the final night.
The real Festival, an actual festival with music and food and costumes. The Field of the Forgotten was now clean and well cared for, lit up with torches and free floating luminaries. There were tables laden with food and drink and plates and cups—large for the living, smaller ones for graveside offerings. It was a celebration of life lost, a gift to the dead.
And the costumes—they were so much fun, and yet even these carried meaning. Roman hid his face behind a domino adorned with white feathers to Logan's black, and rejected his name to call himself Muse for the evening. Because these souls they honored no longer had names or faces, forever lost to time, the living hid their own with masks and costumes, gave up their true names and identities for the night out of respect.
It was magical, all of it. He enjoyed himself, drinking sparkling cider and eating meat skewers, burning his mouth on sweet-searing phoenix taffy, wrapped in wax paper printed with tiny black skulls. He even pocketed some for later, vowing to enjoy them slowly and remember the forgotten as he let the cinnamon tingle sting his tongue.
He celebrated instead of mourning, gave his own joy to the forgotten dead for a year, and for the first time dreamed of being king one day instead of crown prince so he could show this to the citizens. After all, they would understand if they knew—how much the Necromata cared about the dead, how hard they worked for those who were gone because it made things so much better for the people that were still here.
They weren't messengers of death, they were guardians of life, and one day Roman would set them free. He'd show everyone...he'd watch Logan stand beside him before the whole kingdom and smile when he realized that he was no longer feared, but loved. Just as he deserved to be.
Smile like he was smiling now. At Roman, because he stopped him from removing his mask, and for one really stupid second, Roman almost hoped Logan would...maybe reach for his hand or press against his side like he had earlier in the week, huddled before the final resting place of Thomas Roman I.
Roman's namesake. Roman's ancestor.
“Can we be sure?” Roman asked, the brief euphoria stolen from him as they walked side by side, trying to be discreet about returning to the grave in question. “I mean...what's the likelihood that a necromancer would name their child after a king? It's done, you know.”
“Not among our people.” Logan insisted with a shake of his head. “The royal family are our oppressors, have been for generations. As much as it pains me to say it, my people view the royal bloodline much as the population at large view necromancers. They are cutthroat, bloodthirsty, power hungry demons that will stop at nothing to see every single one of us destroyed. No parent would ever do that to a child.”
Roman felt a little like he'd been punched in the gut, but he said nothing. Logan wasn't great with feelings—better, a little, since his Warping, but it always made him squirmy to try and confront them, in himself or in anyone else.
“I want to change that.” Roman replied quietly, vowing he'd say no more on it.
“Falsehood.”
“What?”
“Falsehood.” Logan repeated, as if he hadn't just called Roman a liar. For a second, Roman wondered if he'd done or said something that...oh, gods, did Logan know how Roman felt? Was it bothering him that badly? Were they—
“You will change that.” Logan pressed on before Roman's thoughts could spiral any further. “This is simple fact.”
“Lo—er, Starlight, I appreciate that you have so much faith in me—“
“It's not faith, Muse. It's fact.” Logan insisted, stopping in his tracks. “This revelation is confusing, life changing...dangerous for what it could represent, but the facts are thus: your ancestor is buried on sacred Necromata ground. For generations beyond the Animator, we have taken great pains to ensure that no outsider has ever been interred among us for the simple reason that necromancers cannot be resurrected because we have no souls—it would be sacrilege to allow a resurrection to disturb the rest of our dead. This can mean only one thing: the royal family is either of our tribe, or of theirs.”
“Whose?”
“The Lazari.”
Roman's stomach dropped clear through his shoes and into the sacred ground of the Necromata. “Seven Hells, do you think that's truly possible? W-w-what about the Animata?”
Logan shook his head, then turned to keep walking. They were nearly at the grave—the pair of them had hastily covered up the name they had unearthed, pressing the dirt flat and scattering some leaves to make it look like nothing had been disturbed.
“The Animata are not necromancers—not all of them were even fully human, given their twin souls. It would be easy to resurrect one of them. No, the only other creature it could possibly be is a Lazari.”
“But they're a myth—they're not even real.”
“Myth to you, theoretical to us.” Logan replied as they reached the grave. Sitting in front of the tombstone, he beckoned Roman to join him. “The Lazari are, essentially, an evolution of Weavers. They cannot merely recall the dead to life, they can change the fate of the dead. Their power is such that they can weave a soul not from memory, but from the Spider's Thread. They can change fate.”
Roman fell silent, staring down at the careworn tombstone before them. Reaching out, he ran his hands over the smooth stone that once likely bore a royal crest—the crest of his family, above the name of his ancestor.
“How can you change fate?” he asked softly, forcing himself not to look at the boy beside him. Not when he felt so...weird. So full, like his lungs were being crushed against the inside of his ribcage by his heart and his soul, and everything he was feeling.
He wanted to not be of the house of Sanders. He wanted Logan to not be of the Necromata. He wanted to live in a world where nothing separated them, where one day he could court Logan as proudly as his own father had courted his dad, as proudly as his dad had courted his mother...
Roman wanted, wanted, wanted in that moment, and he was afraid to look at Logan...suddenly afraid of what would happen if he did.
“Knowledge.”
Logan's quiet utterance nearly stole his resolve, his head twitching, but remaining down as Logan continued.
“Knowledge is how. It is an incomparably valuable, multi-purpose tool that is instrumental in identifying and solving any problem.”
He paused—then Roman felt his hand on his shoulder.
Don't don't don't don't don't...
Roman looked up, and found Logan meeting his gaze with a look that briefly stole his breath.
“If you're worried about getting hurt? Then seek knowledge. It is our greatest weapon...and our greatest defense.”
The words felt oddly weighty, like he was trying to make Roman remember something for later. That, or...
He couldn't give the feeling words, and so he didn't. He held it inside himself, embraced the crushing weight against his lungs and the way his entire body felt too small for his bones.
“And the Lazari would be a pretty powerful weapon—especially if they were members of the royal family.” Roman mused softly.
A necromancer on the throne—if it was true, it could destroy his family. However...
It could save Logan's people. If the world knew that one of the royal family had been a member of his tribe? Maybe the Necromata could finally be free to live in the open, free and unafraid.
Looking into Logan's face, Roman realized there was no decision to make.
“Where will we find it?” he asked finally. “This knowledge...the knowledge we need to prove it, one way or the other?”
Logan fell silent at that. He still had that strangely intense look in his eyes, high color in his cheeks—and at some point, his hand had found its way off Roman's shoulder and down to mesh with Roman's fingers.
Roman's face felt warm, and the world felt kind of spinny.
“We start with the king.”
**********
1033, A.A.
“What're you thinkin' about, Janny?”
Janus drew a deep breath—not quite a sigh, but very close to it, not over Patton's question but his own inability to function properly.
He should be looking over the shoulders of his lieutenants, currently investigating the king's death. What he was doing was walking through the North Gardens in the dark with Patton, their hands firmly linked together between them. Patton even went so far as to swing them occasionally, making something deep in Janus's core twist in a manner that made his baser impulses nearly impossible to control.
“Nothing I can discuss with you.” he replied.
“Oh, wow. You're telling the truth—it must be bad.” Patton breathed.
Janus squeezed Patton's fingers, uncertain if he was trying to reassure Patton or himself.
“You have no idea,” he admitted softly, “and if I get my way? You never will.”
There was no immediate answer as Janus scanned their surroundings, double and triple checking to make sure they weren't being spied on. He was well aware of the fact that Logan had already absconded with the cadet—his brother, now that was never going to stop being funny to Janus—and could give a damn. He knew Logan well enough to know he'd be careful...he had to admit, reluctantly, that Storm was a damn capable soldier...and by holding up the pretext that the prisoners were safely ensconced in their quarters...
He could steal this time with Patton. Stealing, sneaking, taking things he had no right to, things that didn't belong to him.
“You're gonna ask me things again, huh?”
Janus stopped dead in his tracks, looking at Patton sharply. Patton, the gods love him, was just smiling that smile he always had when he told Janus things that Janus didn't ask for, much less the things Janus did make a point of requesting.
“That's not why we're out here.” he replied instead of rebuffing Patton's assertion. It felt more important, even if it wasn't...
It wasn't.
Patton giggled—actually giggled at that—and wrapped Janus's hand in both of his.
“Janny, I asked you to spend some time with me, remember?”
How could Janus forget that desperate plea, wide eyed and beaming through the tear tracks that lingered on his cheeks after he was done crying in Janus's arms earlier, done warning Janus about what was happening to Logan in another part of the castle? How could Janus have ever said no?
How could Janus admit that, even if Patton hadn't asked, Janus would have come anyway—just because he couldn't stay away?
“You couldn't possibly know I wanted to...ask you things, as you put it.” Janus pointed out.
Patton stepped closer, looking up into Janus's face from his diminutive height. The moon was nearly gone, but its few stray rays caught his mop of curls, forcing Janus to ball his hands into fists to resist the urge to touch one.
But, of course, because Patton still held one of his hands, he only succeeded in holding on tighter, sending a ripple of warmth and softness through Janus that ought to be more troubling than it was.
“I always know.” Patton pointed out gently. His dark blue eyes were black in the low light, his face shining and open and so dazzling it made his very bones hurt with the primal dragon's urge to grab him and hide him and claim claim claim mine mine mine...
Patton sank to the ground, tugging gently on Janus's captive hand. Janus followed—but rather than sit on the ground as Janus did, Patton got to his knees and immediately deposited himself in Janus's lap with a merry giggle that Janus swore lit up the garden if only for a heartbeat.
Janus let go Patton's hand, wrapped his arms around his waist instead, and felt the dragon in his bones settle back to sleep.
“You always know.” he finally echoed with a sigh and narrowed eyes that did nothing to taint Patton's bright smile. “Fine, I want to ask you things.”
Visibly pleased with himself, Patton rested his hands on Janus's shoulders, shut his eyes, and took a slow, deep breath.
“Okay. I'm ready.”
Janus gave Patton a gentle squeeze, taking a deep breath of his own.
“I need to know how to kill the necromancer.”
Patton didn't move or speak for a long time. Janus just held on, waiting.
His eyes slammed open—solid, pale sky blue and glowing faintly in the dark instead of the impossibly dark shade Janus knew so well.
In hushed, faraway tones, Patton spoke...and Janus listened closely.
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he-is-mine-i-am-his-blog ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Wild geese 9/18
Fandom: Painter of the Night
Pairing: Baek Nakyum/Yoon Seungho
Ratings: M
Word count: ~2100 words
Story summary: When Nakyum enters an arranged marriage with Lord Seungho, he does expect to find himself in a situation where he does, fighting for his life. ***An arranged marriage AU, set in the Joseon period like the canon.
Warnings: This story contains graphic depictions of violence. These scenes are not terribly gory, excessive, pointless, and violence is not glorified in anyway. I will not give warnings with specific chapters as not to spoil the plot.
Read below or on AO3.
***
In the days after their ride, Nakyum sees Seungho more. They converse more, even if their discussions are often sparse and stilted.
Nakyum doesn’t quite know how to talk to his husband yet, especially given how his perceptions of the man have changed as of late, how their relationship has changed too. He doesn’t seem to be alone in his feelings though, as Seungho is even more silent than he is.
It isn’t surprising how awkward, how hesitant things between them feel. It is new, different after all, how they are building upon this relationship instead of avoiding it, how they are seeking each other’s company instead of escaping it.
It isn’t surprising either – or at least it shouldn’t be – how Nakyum then finds himself in the common room enjoying a late breakfast, while Seungho is sitting and smoking his pipe by the opened windows. The man had already eaten earlier, but he still joined Nakyum for the meal.
The weather has been unexpectedly mild these past days, so it’s not too cold in the room, despite the open windows. A warm breeze from the south has blown over the town, and it has melted much of the snow, revealing the muddy ground beneath. It would only be a matter of time though until the weather would take a turn for the colder once again.
Seungho is sitting by the windows, dressed in his deep blue robes that pool around him onto the floor. He is observing the view of the inner courtyard. His head inclined just so that Nakyum can see the sharp angles of his profile. He looks serious, but the few rays of the sun that are cast upon him give his face a warm glow.
Staring at him, Nakyum’s mind shifts to his first impression of Seungho, to how he had privately admired his groom at the wedding. He can’t help but admire him now just as he had then, for he is beautiful.
Only when Nakyum realizes what he is doing, does he avert his eyes. He does not wish to be caught staring, even if he doesn’t think the attention would be rejected.
Even with his gaze turned aside, his cheeks flush at his silliness, secretly stealing glances of his husband. He clears his throat and says, if only to hide the stirrings of embarrassment, “I heard your brother is returning soon.”
“He is. He is expected to arrive in two days if the weather persists.”
Nakyum eats for a moment in silence, considering his words. When he looks up again, Seungho is still there, sitting by the window and staring at the courtyard.
“Are – are you close with your brother?”
“Yes,” Seungho says without hesitation, but a complex expression passes his face before he continues, “but not as close as we were as children.”
Nakyum doesn’t pry more into the topic, although he suspects that Seungho would entertain his questions with answers if he did. He does not ask, because he senses the difficulty. Instead, he wishes to steers the discussion into another direction, one that has wondered since Seungwon left.
The food in his cup sits forgotten, as he looks to Seungho quietly for a long while. He finally asks, “Have you been to Hanyang yourself?”
He is unable to hide the ring of curiosity, of excitement in his voice.
Seungho must’ve heard it too, as there is a fine twitch of lips, the beginnings of something that could bloom into the most beautiful smile. It doesn’t though, as he doesn’t allow it.
“I have, although not for a couple of years,” he replies, his eyes still cast on the view, “I – lived there – for a while.”
Nakyum stares at Seungho, amazed.
He has only ever heard of the great city. He has never visited himself. Neither have Donghyun and Sunjung. He has been told that his birth mother had been to Hanyang before she had him. He could not remember her stories from the city himself though, if she told him any.
From all that Nakyum has heard though, Hanyang seems incredibly fascinating. He can hardly imagine what it would be like to see it, to experience it for himself.
It is far away though, and this town is already the furthest that Nakyum has ever been from his childhood home. Hanyang is at much greater distance, so much so that it feels as if it is in another land entirely.
“I hope to go there even once in my life,” Nakyum sighs wistfully, looking down at his cup.
When he lifts his eyes, he finds Seungho watching him quietly, studying him. Nakyum shares a shy smile with him before he resumes eating.
As he is finishing his meal, his eyes catch up on Mr Kim through the open windows. He is walking across the courtyard, his sure steps leading him towards where Seungho and Nakyum are.
There’s a polite knock on the door, before he steps into the room, his head bowing down.
“I am sorry to disturb you, my Lord,” the servant says, addressing Seungho, “If I could have a word with you.”
Seungho nods, and, after glancing at Nakyum, he asks, “In private?”
“No, this – involves Nakyum, so he may hear it as well,” he says, “We are in a difficult situation, my Lord, as – the servant, Deokjae, has not returned. He has been gone for days now, with no word of where he has gone or when he might reappear. I am not sure we can wait.”
Nakyum flinches hearing the familiar name. A flash before his eyes, of the familiar scarf, of the blood on the show that has now melted, has his heart racing at his chest, but he cannot, he will not speak. He does not need to do so, as neither pay any attention to him.
Looking at Mr Kim, Seungho asks, “What do you suggest?”
“We need to hire a new servant to replace him.”
  ***
Seungwon arrives in the late morning of the second day, with a fresh snowfall. After meeting with his father and brother, he soon comes to greet Nakyum too.
With a polite smile, the man makes his apologies for having been gone for so long, and he suggests they’d go for a walk at the town. It’s an invitation that Nakyum readily accepts.
While Seungwon awaits outside the sleeping quarters, Nakyum promptly dresses himself in his outer clothes. He carefully puts on his bonnet before taking his mittens. It’s colder outside again, he knows, although the ground has no more than a fine layer of snow.
Dressed for outside, he steps into the corridor and closes the door behind him. He then joins Seungwon, so that they may be on their way.
Soon enough, he is walking down the busy main road beside this young man. It feels odd, especially since they had very few conversations before his travels. Seungwon is now more of a stranger to him than Seungho, although Nakyum can’t say he knows his husband well yet.
Seungwon is kind, cordial though, and so very different from his brother, although Nakyum is beginning to see that side of Seungho too. Perhaps they are not so very different after all.
Seungwon looks to Nakyum, “I hear much has happened since I left.”
Nakyum bows his head, his eyes cast down on the road a few steps ahead.
It is no lie. A lot has happened since Seungwon had left not long after the wedding. Nakyum had certainly not expected this eventful start to his marriage. He does not know what to say though, because Seungwon is still a stranger to him, and he is Seungho’s brother too.
Seungwon sighs at the silence and turns to look ahead too, as they walk.
“I expect it has not been easy for you settling into your new life here,” he says at first, before he carefully amends his words, “I expect that it has not been easy being with my brother.”
Nakyum looks at him in surprise. When Seungwon glances at him, there’s a flash of a bowed smile.
“There is no need to be coy. I know my brother is – difficult.”
Nakyum is yet more stunned. He schools himself to hide the reaction under a veil of indifference, before he can find peace again. He is careful when he says, “It is better now.”
His cheeks redden at the admission, although he doesn’t fully fathom why.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Seungwon says, unable to hide the mirth in his tone, but he quickly grows more serious, “Please don’t hold his past actions against him.”
Nakyum can only nod. He remains silent, as he twists and turns the words in his mind, trying to discover their true meanings.
Seungwon doesn’t leave him in the dark for long though.
“He – has a troubled past. I do not wish to betray his confidence, but I fear he wouldn’t tell you himself. You should know to understand him.”
Nakyum turns to look ahead again, his eyes trailing past the merchants selling various goods. He cannot ask, even if he wishes to know. He does not look towards Seungwon until he speaks again.
“Seungho had affections for another man – once,” he winces, glancing at Nakyum, “It was years ago.”
Nakyum nods silently.
He knows Seungho was not as inexperienced as he was going into their marriage. He had never considered that there may have been feelings involved. The thought has something hot and intense blooming at the pit of his stomach. He does like the feel of it.
He can’t examine his feelings further, as Seungwon continues with his retelling.
“It did not end well because of our father,” his face is dark and serious, as he speaks the words, “I don’t believe Seungho has ever forgiven him for what he did.”
Seungwon suddenly stops in the middle of the street, and Nakyum turns to look back. When the man glances around, his eyes restless, Nakyum understands his reluctance to continue. Their surroundings have grown more quiet now that they have ventured off the main road. They are not alone though.
Nakyum steps closer to allow more privacy.
When he continues, Seungwon’s voice is quiet, barely audible, “He was an untouchable.”
Nakyum sucks in a sharp inhale. He cannot hide the look of surprise, as he stares at this man in front of him.
Seungwon had used the word baekjeong.
The nobles did not get involved with them in any way, and they certainly could have no relations with them. To fraternize in such an intimate manner would bring shame to the family.
Nakyum can only imagine how deep and true affection one must’ve felt for another to go against their father in such a manner.
It is then that he is hit by a more heart-breaking realization.
It did not end well because of our father, Seungwon said.
He was an untouchable, he said.
A man born as baekjeong could not escape his status.
A man born as baekjeong would die as such.
Nakyum looks to Seungwon in a wordless alarm. It must’ve been evident in his face, as the man continues, his voice soft, gentle.
“It was years ago, although I suspect he never recovered from – what happened. Of course, the way he acted since did not help either in mending what was broken between him and our father.”
Seungwon gives a sad smile, as he begins to walk again. Nakyum hurries to follow after him, quickly falling into step beside him.
He glances at him, unsure, “Not that I don’t appreciate you sharing this with me, but I’m not sure I understand how this relates to me.”
Seungwon sighs, as he keeps his eyes ahead.
“Seungho – did not wish to marry,” he says, “But, our father gave him no choice. I trust Seungho hates him for that too, even if he was destroying himself with his rebellion, his revenge.”
Nakyum furrows his brows, unable to stop the concern rising within him, as he thinks of Seungho, of what he has heard regards to him, of what he has seen himself.
“He may have – mistakenly – hated you too, as he believed you have sided with our father, forcing this arrangement on him,” Seungwon finally says, “Though, I’m glad to see that he has come to see the light on this matter.”
Nakyum nods quietly, his mind mulling around these recent revelations, around the thoughts and ever-changing perceptions of his husband.
They walk in silence for a little longer, until Seungwon looks to Nakyum and says more boldly now, “So please, be patient with my brother. Be forgiving too. He will not always be as difficult as he has been thus far.”
Nakyum considers it for a moment, until he says in an exhale of a promise, “I will.” 
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woeismyhoe ¡ 4 years ago
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Spill the tea, what's the deal with you and the BSG group (avatar-chang and her squad in particular)?
Ok anon, sorry for taking so long! I wanted to get everything right and honestly collecting the posts took a longass time xD
Anyways, the only ones I have a problem there are avatar-chang, hexful/dykesia/bizukos, catrademption, cardboardseagulls (never seen interacted b4) and bizulas (also never interacted b4).
I’m going to be really transparent about this whole thing so it’s gonna be long as there’s gonna be several links and I’ve included the dates so it’ll be easier to understand. Since I’ll be fully transparent about this, i’ll probably get hate or whatever. Honestly, I just want to put everything out there without being biased or hiding anything. I’m going to disclose everything here.
So, the whole thing between me and avatar-chang started off with this post I made last year on 10 March 2019. Afterwards, she PMed me on the same day and this was the conversation:
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After that, I thought the argument was over because she blocked me lmao. The only ones I spoke to about this was nbw and my real life friends (who had nothing to do with ATLA lmao I just ranted to them).
And then the next incident I think was on 16 March 2019 when I made this post about Azula’s abuse of her friends. I was new and 16. I genuinely wanted to know why people labeled Azula as an abuser. It was dykesia who responded to me at the time.
Now, unlike avatar-chang, I had a few conversations with dykesia (who was bizukos then) that was generally civil. I first interacted with her when she made a post calling out Zucest shippers or something?? I was very new. Like fresh newbie baby ATLA tumblr fan new lmao so I thought what she said was too aggressive. I didn’t realize that there were actual Zucest shippers until after some time. And then she PMed me on 13 March 2019, saying that she doesn’t always agree on characters with me but I do write some interesting pieces on Azula— that she’s a huge fan of Azula but she just tends to stay away from her fandom. I apologized about the previous incident of the Zucest thing and it was fine after then. We talked about zuko, the fandom, the comics, Mai etc etc. I thought we were on fine terms.
And then I made a post about the cliff scene in the comics on 16 March 2019. Avatar-Chang made a post that was pretty directed at the post but it seems like she’s deleted it.
On 17 March 2019, I received an anon mail telling me that avatar-chang was talking shit about me behind my back. I censored her name then because I didn’t want to believe without any evidence. No one sent me any screenshots about it so I just dismissed it.
On the same day, avatar-chang answered an anon and talked about the 13 child post theory I made on 9 March.
On 23 April 2019, I received another anon mail about avatar-chang, asking if I’d seen the post she made about Azula. I censored her name again cuz I didn’t want to start any shit over having differing opinions. I’m assuming this is the post the anon was referring to.
On 28 April 2019, dykesia/hexful/bizukos PMed me to ask if I was talking shit about other people behind their backs, and her. I denied this because I hadn’t. This was how the conversation went:
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Yes, I didn’t censor any name because as I said, full transparency. I have afp blocked because we’ve clashed several times and he’d still come for my posts last year despite already being blocked. If you’ve followed me long enough, you probably would’ve rmbered that time lmao
Anyways during then, I don’t think I realized that dykesia was actually being passive aggressive. It’d been barely a year since I started the blog and I just didn’t want to full out make enemies. Reading the messages now tho lmao she really was passive aggressive. But yeah then she said this in bsg so I don’t even know why she bothered to ask me if she wasn’t even going to consider believing me.
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The 9th of June 2019 was the last time she messaged and it was to ask if I mind her discoursing this Zuko post while ‘hard and drunk’. It was the first time she could apparently agree with me so it was I quote a ‘Yay??’. Afterwards I don’t know when she did it but she blocked me lmao
On 17 July 2019, I received another anon mail telling me that avatar-chang publicly called me a bitch when she was answering an anon about me posting the scans of the EK Chronicles. She mentioned this in bsg again on 19 April 2020 lmao (she’s that petty) it seems:
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On November 8 2019, an anon (one of avatar-chang’s friends actually) asked about my thoughts towards the allegations against Aaron Ehasz. I still believe in the system of ‘Innocent before proven guilty’, so I didn’t side with anyone. I tried to be as objective as possible. When I said that I hoped men would also come forward, I said that because I don’t want men to just sit on the sidelines and let the women get the heat if they were telling the truth. At the end of this whole thing, I concluded that Ehasz was a dick of a boss to the girls. Being called an abuser carries more weight than just being a dick. Everyone has been a dick at one point, but being an abuser is something else. Just because Ehasz was a dick doesn’t mean I’m going to stop watching TDP or dismiss his involvement in ATLA.
The next day, BSG brought the issue up despite both avatar-chang having already blocked me by then lmao
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On 5 February 2020, after Legacy of the Fire Nation came out, I made a post calling out Iroh’s bs to Azula (guy literally blames Azula for everything that happened to Zuko (something which avatar-chang agrees with apparently, and Iroh even sees Ozai in a better light).
That’s so far what I’ve remembered that involved avatar-chang and dykesia.
Moving on to the next three attackers: catrademption, cardboardseagulls and bizulas.
I’ve seen catrademption around, but I don’t remember if we’ve clashed before. We must have though cuz she’s got me blocked lmao and I mostly only debate back to people when they reply to my posts. For cardboardseagulls and bizulas, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them them before but obviously they’ve seen my blog and misinterpreted everything I’ve written.
But according to them, I’m apparently a Azula apologist, extremist, irrational, toxic, coddles and woobifies Azula, justifies everything she does and invalidates abuse victims.
You can see the posts I’ve made to judge whether I actually am an irrational Azula apologist who blames everything on Zuko. One of the most recent posts I made about Azula’s character is this, and there’s still several more posts like that. Just search #meta or #analysis in my blog search and all of them will just pop up. I can assure you, I have never acted as if Azula has done nothing wrong or did everything right or whatever lies these people are spewing.
If anyone has proof that I’ve talked shit about people in the fandom to other people before, please, present your evidence. I highly think this is impossible because I actually don’t have many friends on Tumblr, nor do I usually initiate conversation because I’m awkward af.
I’ve also tried approaching those I recognized in bsg to find out more about the situation (and at least give my side of the story). Most of them have chosen not to speak to me LMAO but one of them who’s chosen to remain anonymous for their privacy, admitted that dykesia (hexful) forced them to block a blog before (after realizing they were interacting with said blog) and if not, they would be blocked themselves. I can’t post the conversation publicly because they’re afraid their speech mannerism will give away their identity. @space-sword has also shared his experience with avatar-chang on his blog and was pressured to cut off ties with ppb21 just to join the oh so magnificent Ba Sing Gay.
There’s absolutely no reason to judge someone based on their sexual orientation, race, color or age either. They rant about being discriminated against or being generalized or stereotypes but they’re the ones hypocritically committing these actions, and then justify their actions by saying ‘we’re oppressed, they’re not, so it’s not racism or discrimination’. And yet people still wonder why discrimination is still rampant LMAO
I can’t speak for the blogs they victimized in bsg, but I personally don’t agree with talking shit about them on a public server and then criminalizing them as if they’re actually predators. I also don’t agree with involving the blogs’ friends simply because of their association. I also don’t agree with demanding people to block blogs they don’t like because that’s just pure manipulation. That’s wrong and marginalizing people. Unless someone has actually been harassing or literally preying on people, then there’s no reason to actually go around warning blogs about them unless they’re asked about it.
If they feel uncomfortable about something? Then avoid that blog, filter their tags or even block that blog if they’re that uncomfortable—BUT they shouldn’t demand others to do the same just for their own benefit. It’s not up to them to decide what a person can or cannot see or who they can or cannot interact with. They’re not their parents, and they obviously have no right to pressure people into doing things they don’t want to. If they think it tactless that I shared the conversations? Oh honestly, a line was crossed when they spread shit about me so idc. If they actually feel terrible for being called out? GOOD. That’s what they should feel, because in no way was any of what they were doing right or justified. If they’re going to shit on me then expect to be burned because I’m not someone who’ll just shrivel in fear because they have a bigger following.
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sweetjekyll ¡ 4 years ago
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Writerly contemplation tag!
tagged by the lovely @j-pping; thank you for the tag!
this might end up being long so I’ll add a read more cut ☺️
2020
what was the most challenging part of writing this year?
I guess the most challenging part of writing this year was tuning out the real world. I’ve always used reading and writing as a form of coping and escapism from all the things that were troubling me. Unfortunately there were times when simply reading and writing weren’t helping me and I took so many breaks, postponed so many WIPs I was excited about... I ended up beating myself down for not being able to keep up with an expectation I had for myself and my writing. Considering 2020 was hell for everyone, I came to terms with myself that it cannot be always my fault, I can’t blame myself for not being able to do things I set my mind to do, sometimes there are obstacles that take time for you to cross.
I’m just going to quickly mention stressful anons and hopefully get a point across for all fan fictions writers. WE ARE NOT ROBOTS. WE ARE HUMAN. All of us write for many personal reasons, mine are that I just love writing things which I wish to read! Simple as that. What I wish for some rude people to understand is that the least you could do for us creators is be thankful and be kind to us, give feedback and constructive criticism, share our work. I don’t understand why you are scared of the reblog button. When I go through my notes and take a look at some blogs, they are empty. No one is paying us to contribute creatively to the fandom, you are enjoying our content for free while we put hard work and our free time into it, so why should we “hurry up”, “update faster” and “write more/this/that”? Please, remember that we are people too, and the toxicity some people spread on anonymous asks is just incredibly baffling and hurtful to me. If you, as a reader, believe that my request is nonsense and my words are too harsh, then perhaps you should reconsider how you’re viewing content creators before disagreeing without a valid reason.
what was the most enjoyable/rewarding part of writing this year?
The happiness that came from writing something which I enjoyed reading as well! I have been a writer for years on another platform until I had to take a long hiatus because of writer’s block and depression. For how cheesy this may sound, the most enjoyable and rewarding part of writing is in fact writing something that makes me happy even if I’m torturing my characters and traumatizing them. There is truly no point for me to write things that I don’t feel I am enjoying. As I have said other times before on the blog, I would much rather post something that makes me happy, than post something just to get notes from silent readers.
what piece has left the most impact on you and why?
Given the fact that I have not written a lot because of my constant mental health breaks (yes 2020 had me on rollercoaster mental breakdowns more often than usual), I have to say that Damaged is what really kept me entertained with myself and perhaps sane. It has been way too long since I’ve taken on something so creative as building an entire universe from just a dream, but it’s what reminded me why I love writing so much, it reignited my passion. With this story I really wanted to challenge myself to write something unique, something I’ve never done before with any other work... And I admit it’s quite difficult; the easiest part was taking inspiration from EXO’s lore, but the hardest was incorporating it in a universe and storyline completely different to the original concept. It’s something I’m set on finishing as a complete multi-chapter story no matter how long it takes.
what have you learned about yourself through the process of writing in the past year?
To be completely honest, I learned that I can push myself out of my comfort zone when writing, because every piece is a fictional world of its own, every character can be more than a copy and paste personality. What do I truly learn about myself if I don’t explore things I have not thought about before? I learned that I should not be afraid to write of things that I don’t know or fully understand, specifically about things that I didn’t post but tried for just for fun. It is a good way of finding out whether a certain subjects interests me or doesn’t. I love doing lots of research and gather information for the stories I’m writing, you get to learn about stuff you usually would never think about.
how has your writing changed in the past year? how have you grown?
Well, I don’t really have anything to compare my writing to except my older fan fictions for movies and tv shows. I guess I have changed quite a lot since 2018; my writing style has become more fluid, at least I think it has. I’m also able to write longer chapters without feeling as if I am dragging it out for the sake of the word count, yet now I have to literally stop myself from just writing too much! It pleases me, to be honest. I remember struggling to sometimes put ideas into words and balance narrative, dialogue and descriptions.
2021
ignoring your wips for a second, if you had all the time and energy in the world to write your magnum opus piece, what would it be about? why is that the dream story you’d write, all other things controlled for?
This can go back to Damaged, honestly! It’s something that I haven’t finished writing and it will be a long story. It’s the fan fiction which has gotten me out of a 2-year-long writer’s block with such strength, I feel truly attached to it. As I mentioned in one of my first answers for 2020, this is the WIP I want to focus on the most and be proud of it.
how do you want to grow in your writing this year?
I mentioned this is my first 2021 post after I took a short break, but one of my resolutions for this year is to work on self acceptance when it comes to my projects. (I’ll copy and paste what I wrote there so I don’t repeat myself with other words) One of my resolutions for 2021 is to write more, to not be afraid of beginning something and even if I end up setting the story aside, at least I will have gotten it out on (digital) paper. I punish myself way too much when I’m not able to finish something, and that is truly one of the worst things a content creators can go through, in my opinion. I have many drafted works that may or may never be published and I wish to appreciate them more instead of dwelling on the fact of what they could have been.
what’s one thing you’d wish to see in the fan-writing community this year?
I wish for more love and recognition of the amazing and talented writers that share their content with everyone on tumblr. We are a community, or at least we are supposed to be. I would absolutely love to see more readers actively interacting with writers, share ideas, share art inspired by what you read! As readers, you can contribute as well by sharing moodboards, song recommendations and/or playlists! You are more than welcome to join us in the community as writers too! 
As for myself, I have mentioned this towards last year but I still want to compile a list of all the writers I am currently following and read their works. I haven’t been in a good mindset to do that for a long time and I wish to get to know them. I’m a pretty shy person who struggles to start up a conversation, so I hope I get to make some friends on tumblr this year!
name one new thing you want to try doing in your writing this year.
I would like to make a list of aus and experiment with them for either one shots or some short series! I have so many creative ideas and thoughts but I always forget to take a note or maybe I’m doing something else and I end up getting caught up in a stream of consciousness, until I lose the initial spark. Also mentioned plenty of times, I would love to write for other groups, like nct, but for now I’ll focus on exo.
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anyway, that was it for my writerly contemplation tag!
I’m tagging a few fellow writers, but feel free to ignore for any reason! sorry if I forgot someone but feel free to do this even if I didn’t tag you!! @pororodks @velvetsehun @yeoldontknow @yeagerluvr @soos-goddess @shaalk @mooneylooney1 @dewbebe
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yukipri ¡ 8 years ago
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Replies to the art theft post
tanialel replied to your post “I was going to post art today...”
You must talk with the Gays on Ice's admin, she understands what is going on and also she wants to solve the problem, just take it easy and talk at the first place. Maybe you're overreacting... (I don't want to offend nobody.)
lizeth-sandwich replied to your post “I was going to post art today...”
Why are you like this? Not everyone knows who are you, I didn't know who were you until you pointed out a page that I follow. What is so wrong about sharing "FANARTS"? I mean, they want to share it because they like it, and they are your draws, yes, but it is Kubo sensei work, intellectual property... For me, and a lot more followers is sharing art knowing who the artist is to follow her. I can't believe there is people getting angry and want to report it.                
lizeth-sandwich replied to your post “I was going to post art today...”
+I mean, is a page where we can laugh, where I can find people who share the same love for this beautiful art. If you want to delete that page just for that simple reason is unthinkable for me. Deleting a page because they want to share your beautiful art, how sad. I shared photos of concerts, I could take money out of them but I didn't because I like when people say thanks to me, I like to share. I did found people sharing my photos without credits.       
lizeth-sandwich replied to your post “I was going to post art today...”
+but didn't make a fuss of it, I just commented on my pic that it was mine and followers saw me. Some others edit giving me credits. But anyway, I wrote all of this to make you understand that if you talk to them they might comprehend, you should not rush with your statements. We want peace not war, everything solves by talking.                
mallenlisromero replied to your post “I was going to post art today...”
Well....you have your point but this is overreaction, everybody knows this blog and the content is yours but your reaction is incredible. The people who repost your work is because they love it. I don't know why that reason is bad. Are you angry for that? Well, the best solution will be to delete your blog. That way no one sees your work and doesn't feel like sharing. I don't want to seem rude, but it's very illogical and childish your rule of repost. You must ask to the                
mallenlisromero replied to your post “I was going to post art today...”
+You must ask to the people who repost "why you repost?" I don't think that they respond "I'm a fanart thief " If they do, it would be funny. That's my opinion.                
mallenlisromero replied to your post “I was going to post art today...”
I understand, everyone wants the credit for their work and that's logical because they did but... Don't repost, don't share...both are “pendejadas", sorry I don't find a word in English for this expression. Your art is good, You should be happy with your fans, and proud that they share your work, obviously with the credits              
sofiarvs replied to your post “I was going to post art today...”
Ellos ponen el autor!!! Así es como conocí muchos artistas, que culeros                
Okay, I’m going to break my habit of only posting replies one time a day in the afternoon. Apologies in advance, and I hope you also don’t mind if I reply to these all together to avoid giving repetitive answers.
You’re right, the series, the characters themselves, and canon is the intellectual property of Kubo-sensei and the other YOI producers. However, fanart that I created is mine. I have never claimed that I own the characters, just my specific depictions of them in images I have created. There is a whole discourse on this, but that is a conversation for another time.
You’re also right, that not many people know who I am unlike the creators of canon material like Kubo-sensei. People will see an official art, and automatically know how to find the people who made it, they’re credited on all official media sites. For nobody fanartists like myself, not so much. It’s just “fanart.” Most people will not know of me or my blog just by looking at art they find floating around the internet. All the more reason that I would like that they know.
I stated specifically in my call out post that I want people to be respectful, and I apologize if the community is getting any harassment, that was not my intention. My intention is to hopefully get you and others to realize just how hurtful art theft is. “You’re overreacting. Creating a fuss. It shouldn’t matter, they share because they love it!” are statements that do not try to understand how the artist feels. You do not know how I felt creating my art, you did not experience the time and effort and struggle it took to finish and upload them, so I feel that you do not have the right to tell me how I should feel.
I am not an art machine. I’m a person, who dedicates more hours than one would expect at a full time job to nothing but producing art content that I make available for free. We are all fans here; I want to create and share drawings that hopefully make people happy, and I hope you can enjoy them in ways that do not hurt me in return.
There are so, so many ways in which art theft is hurtful. Notes/attention is certainly part of it. My art on the community in question had over 1K likes, when the original post barely had 2K. Think of how much more motivated I would feel to draw more similar content if even a fraction of those people decided to view my work on my blog, possibly even like, reblog, or comment. Instead, those views simply tell me that those people don’t care about the creator, just my content.
If you actually want to discuss, please be willing to learn. HERE’s one post that describes very well what art theft does. HERE’s another. Some quick scrolling and searching #art theft will give you plenty of results.
Different creators (not just artists) have different policies regarding reposting, because we all feel differently about how we are comfortable with our art being shared and we all have different past experiences with fandom, which shouldn’t come as a surprise because we’re all different people. Most people have their rules stated somewhere on their blog, and if you can’t find it (please search first) it doesn’t hurt to ask. Crediting is not the same as permission, as explained in the posts above. Some people allow reposts with credit, some do not. Please respect everyone.
I personally feel my own policies are pretty clear. You also cannot make the argument that you didn’t know.
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The fact that I am uncomfortable with my art being shared on other sites should be enough, if you respect me and wish to support my art you shouldn’t need more reasons. I shouldn’t have to explain my history of being more open at first, but being more and more hesitant to give permission after a long stream of abuses. I shouldn’t have to describe to you in detail how it has impacted me personally, how it has played into my depression, how it has made me stop drawing and leave fandoms in the past, and the amount of effort it took to come back from that and give posting online another chance. Me asking you to please stop should be enough.
On top of that, this particular post was my first nsfw work I put on Tumblr, after almost 4 years of having this blog. It took a lot of debating on whether I should do it or not. When I did decide to do it, I took a lot of precautions to ensure that I would be comfortable with my decision. It is incredibly mild, I posed them so nothing showed, I tried for the right balance (to me) of erotic but not smut, I went out of my way to try to make sure no one looked underage. I posted beneath a cut, I added tags and warnings. I was nervous, but wanted to share, thinking maybe if it went well I might get the confidence to do a little more. Instead, NOPE, that’s it for me, people reposting with none of my precautions, my discomfort is through the roof.
I’m not asking you to not share my works. I’m not asking you to not enjoy my works. There are ways that you can do that that only inconvenience you mildly, but do not hurt me. If you are on Tumblr or Twitter, you can reblog/retweet. If you want to share on other sites like facebook, please just share the link to my blog. Yes, it may not match your community aesthetic, yes, it will take one extra click for people to see the images on my blog, and yes, it may be tedious to then go back to your community to have your conversations there. But is that really too much effort to ask, in comparison to the effort it took to draw from scratch? If it’s just sharing the link, you don’t even need to ask me for permission. I promise that I’ve made my blog as easy to view as possible, and there’s easy navigation that lets you maybe find other art too that you can share in the same way. You can have your conversations on your site, and I can still protect my works on my blog and choose how to present them and get traffic. Does this not work?
I do not want to have to put my art behind a pay wall like Patreon. I like that anyone can view it. I don’t want to have to block out non-Tumblr users. I don’t want to have to create a locked community. I don’t want to stop posting my work online, and only have my work available through purchase of physical copy like many Japanese artists. I would like to keep my watermarks small enough that you can still enjoy the images.
I don’t ask for money or make you join a community. You don’t even have to like, reblog, follow, or comment on my work, though that certainly is wonderful. All I ask is that you please, please, not hurt me for posting art.
I am not asking that you delete your community or blogs, like you above have suggested I delete mine. I do not want people to be angry with you, and again I am sorry if people have been acting disrespectfully. I do however want to ask you to please try to understand artists, to please respect our wishes, to please treat us like people. So many artists have stopped drawing because of art theft, or have lost faith in the internet and feel they can no longer share. Please do not contribute to that culture. I do not want to be driven from this fandom too.
If you didn’t know how much art theft damages the artist, that’s okay. Now you do. I hope this post helps explain part of why it’s bad.
I know you love the series and want to enjoy fanworks. We creators want you to enjoy them too. We like the same things. All I ask is that you reconsider how you think of sharing art. A small change in how you share art is all it takes to no longer hurt artists, but instead encourage us. Yes, it is a bit more work, but isn’t it worth it? Please support us and treat us with respect, and we’ll draw more things you can enjoy, and together we can create a better fandom community.
Thank you.
-Kazu (YukiPri)
Edit: I hope no one does this but I’ll say it anyway: please don’t harass any of the people I posted this in reply to. I’ve said my piece, and I’d like all conversations to be respectful. I posted this publicly because I want people to know the discussion going on, but I have no quarrel with individuals. Please do not bully. Thank you.
EDIT 2: If any bilingual Spanish speakers would be willing to translate my response to the Spanish-speaking community, I would be incredibly grateful. I feel like they’re mostly getting “the artist is mad and we should just not share her work,” and that is not the point of this post, which seeks to explain WHY it is hurtful and therefore should not be done, and alternatives on HOW to do better. (EDIT 3: Someone has kindly offered to translate, we’re working on it now! Thank you!)
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