#Best not to interact with her tumblr if she's still on it anyway because if I were her I would've kept that thing nuked and she might still

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

You guys .... I just realized something ....

Lilith is supposed to be Lady Gaga ....

She's the number one trend setter in Hell ...

Absolute Icon, Queen, Mother...

Both Lilith and Alastor were gone for seven years... Probably because they're working together ....

People were all losing their minds over Alastor knowing how to use phrases like "Clout Chaser" and "That's The Tea!" and ether assumed it was "Out Of Character" or that "Angel must've taught him a few things off camera..."

... But yeah, what if being around Angel didn't teach him how to talk like that?

What if... Being around Lilith for seven years, did?

[fading-event-608]

Listen, I know, you all have been seeing fundraiser posts all day long. I've seen people complain that the tags for Palestine are "unusable" now because… genocide victims use it to find aid to survive.

Thing is, those posts will be here until Israel ceases it's aggression. And Palestinians will need your aid as far as they are left with no income and besieged. I've tried reaching out to other platforms, and Tumblr is still the best place for at least Falastin (Gazan who I spotlight for more than 2 months) to get donations; because here you don't need thousands of followers to get interactions. And at least we get one in ten response here; on other platforms both of us don't get any.

So yes, a dying website for fandom is her best bet to save her family right now. We don't speak of evacuation anymore (even though we hope for it), this is a battle for day-to-day survival. The prices in Gaza are increasing every hour, and they have no income and Falastin has gone into multiple debts to help them before starting the campaign in June. And yes, she receives more attention now but her family is still in starvation - she tries to support 26 people now, since her cousin was martyred and his 2 children joined 24 of her family in Al-Mawasy.

Yes, they should get free aid from all those countless non-profits that raise millions. But if they see something labelled as "aid" it is because they have bought it themselves. Yes, you can see (and maybe touch!) aid if you subject yourself to hours-long queues and/or humiliation of being a part of a photoshoot. They also said that the aid they get is stale at best and spoiled at worst; and that's again, if they get it.

Yes, there are grassroots organizations but they cannot reach everyone, because they are in small teams and they don't receive a lot of funds. And you can of course donate to them to try "fix" this; but please do not think that it means individual fundraisers are not worth supporting. I did not see any evidence of individual fundraisers "taking" money from others; on the contrary, when Falastin's fundraiser struggles, I see others struggle too. When we celebrate a good day of donations we celebrate it with others too.

And I could talk about Harris campaign get 1 billion in donations and still receiving them or how AO3 got 200k in a couple of days; but the post is getting too long.

Anyway. Please consider donating to Falastin's campaign; the money would buy food and water first, shelter and clothes for the winter second. There's a raffle for hand-made Palestinian thobe that Falastin's friend makes (LINK); and please follow her here.

Donate via Gofundme (in SEK! check rates below please): LINK

10$ = 108 SEK

25$ = 272 SEK

50$ = 544 SEK

100$ = 1,088 SEK

Donate via PayPal (in USD): LINK

Vetting info: #282 in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [here], #957 in the Butterfly Project spreadsheet [here]

[neil-gaiman]

Hello I hope you’re having a nice day!! I don’t know if you’ve answered this before but I had a question concerning The Sandman about a debate I can’t get a clear answer to.

About Desire and Unity’s relationship; would it be considered rape? In my initial interpretation (as someone who became a fan via the show and hasn’t finished the comics yet) I interpreted the comic’s mention of it as being through the perspective of the doctors — the only conclusion that would be understandable in the waking world. In the show, Unity regards Desire with fondness/nostalgia, so I assumed they ‘seduced’ or ���courted’ her in her dream and thus was fairly consensual. But because it’s a very very complex and impossible situation, would it still be considered rape since she didn’t technically consent in the waking world? Does her consent hold the same gravity since she wasn’t fully aware? Would Unity herself consider it rape/sexual assault?? Are the situations (comic vs show) different canons??

(Again I haven’t finished the comics so maybe this has already been answered, I get confused and lost by small details very easily so my media literacy isn’t always the best lol)

What’s your general feelings on this?? BTW THIS IS NOT ME CONDEMNING YOU FOR EITHER OUTCOME OF COURSE!! I think these conversations are very important to have in all sorts of medias. And I know it’s especially difficult and even unfair at times to hold supernatural beings or situations to the same justices or perspectives as humanity. Also the time period would probably affect things as well. I just wanted to know cause Desire is one of my favourite characters and I’m not sure if I should feel guilty for that. Anyways I’m rambling THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOUR WRITING ‼️

(Sorry if I was meant to censor rape I forgot if tumblr censors it or not 🤡)

Unity fell in love with someone in her dream, had a number of interactions and had consenting sex with them in her dream. In the waking world, her body parthenogenically reproduced. No physical interaction occurred in the waking world. No DNA was exchanged.

Beyond that, you're on your own.

[spacebubblehomebase]

My Official Hazbin Hotel Stargazers AU Masterpost!

Or the #HHStargazersAU Checklist + MORE!!!

But before all that, here's the general synopsis:

Charline is introducing her first ever girlfriend, Vaggie, to her circus running dad, Lucius Magne. But unbeknownst to them, Vaggie is hiding a big secret: She's Charlie's guardian angel! Tasked with setting her on the right path towards good, but to make things more complicated, the family's live-in hire, Alastor, is actually a demon that's been trying to tempt Charlie's dad to the opposite side! So how can this unlikely pair keep their respective truths hidden when mysteries start to unfold, how do they play house while also playing tug-of-war for Heaven & Hell, and just HOW did they get in this situation in the first place? Well, one thing's for certain, family dinners will never be boring as feelings unravel and everything grand is yet to be revealed. So tune in~!

Or something like that...

So if this summary seems like your cup of tea and you happen to enjoy both Chaggie & Radioapple content, then hop on aboard! Because, let me tell you, the ride I've prepared is so convoluted, I wish I charge people for it, but it's FREE! Unfortunately, all updates usually depend on my schedule and plans for plot may always change. But this semi-serious story of mine follows a loose "artfic" format anyway. A term I use to mean: I write just as much as I draw. So this is both a fanart and a fanfic AU now basically. But everything for it can be found on Twitter, Insta, or Tumblr. I post just about almost the same things in each, so there's no need to look further for more! Though I won't protest if you ASK for more as in the end, this gigantic AU is just a personal project of mine and any support. Be it a little acknowledgement or a major gift of a comment goes a long way to fuel my motivation! Now that the sappy stuff is out of the way though, here's the links to my story and list of future posts that would be regularly updated anytime I remove or add something new!

Relevant Lore List:

Click title to be redirected to the post and some titles are [Redacted] for the sake of avoiding any spoilers...

-A New Day Will Dawn. ✅

-BONUS Interaction (& Ask). ✅

-Color Palette Reference. ✅

-Say My Name. ✅

-Divorce Aftermath (Ask). ✅

-Meet The Magnes. ✅

-The Stargazers. ✅

-Lore sneak peek. (Ask). ✅️

-Shadow Of His Light.

-His Pride.

-Her Joy.

-Close Calls.

-Surprise.

-The Dreamers.

-Phantom Pains.

-[Redacted] The [Redacted].

-[Redacted] That Day.

-A Cold Day In Hell.

-Prelude Promises.

-The Dancing Devil's Circus.

-Blossoming Feelings.

-False Start.

-The [Redacted, Redacted, Redacted].

-When A [Redacted, Redacted].

-The Last [Redacted] Lament.

-Moth To Her Flame.

-A Taste of Temptation.

-Better Than Never.

-Free Fall.

-HerStory.

-Wake Up Call.

-Seeds Of Doubt.

-Mother Knows Best.

-Fuck You, [Redacted].

-Dad Meet Mom.

-With Tax Benefits.

-Dawn Of A New Day.

-The First Stage.

-Reprise Reveal.

-B.U.S.T.E.D.

-A Third [Redacted].

-The Show Must Go On.

+++++++++++++++

Related Posts:

((Asks are answered in between updates, but due to the amount of them, I unfortunately may still miss some. But rest assured I do read them! I just can't get to everyone. TvT Very much appreciate them though!))

-AU Idea Announcement.

-Magnes Are Humans (Asks).

-AU Name Explanation (Asks).

-Author Is Delulu.

-Excited To Spoil (Asks).

-Human Carmilla Carmine.

-Radioapple Dynamic (Asks).

-Alastor's Eyes (Asks).

-Questions About Lilith (Asks).

-Outdated Sneak Peek (Asks).

-Stimming Radioapple (Asks).

-Cryprid Alastor (Asks).

-Flavor Of The AU (Asks).

-Magne Discussion (Asks).

-Artist With Chaggie (Asks).

-Hug Alastor Request (Asks).

-Vaggie UwU (Asks).

-Yep. Still doing the AU (Asks).

-Alastor's Voodoo (Asks).

-Radio Signals (Asks).

-Masterpost Suggestion (Asks).

-Future Animatic Announcement!

-Dynamics & SPOILERS!!! (Asks).

-BONUS Vaggie's "dad" (Asks).

-Radioapple + Art Advice (Asks).

-ALAKAZAM!!! (Asks).

-Update about updates (Asks).

-First AU fanart??? HOLY SHIT!!!

-MORE fanart!!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

-Reminded about my AU again. (Asks).

+++++++++++++++

Other Account Links:

((Just in case you want to experience my story somewhere else you're more comfortable with!))

For Blue Sky Account, click this sentence!

For Instagram Account, click this sentence!

For Old Twitter Account, click this sentence!

((Note: I advice y'all to keep on checking the original masterpost on my page and see if it's updated as it may not show the new changes in reblogs. As for my Twitter, because of certain AI policies approved by an "egocentric piece of shit" billionaire, I moved to BlueSky for my own sanity. I hope you all understand. Thanks for reading!))

-Bubbly💙

[obsessivevoidkitten]

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

That's a lot to read and I do not follow these people.

[makeyoumine69]

Hello dear people in my beloved American Psycho fandom! I couldn't force myself to write this post because I didn't know how to do it, but I think now is the right time. I promised myself not to bring personal stuff into my writing, but since one thing affects another, I think I should finally speak up.

This year started pretty bad for me, I was suffering from a huge apathy and my mental health was probably in the worst state in the last few years. I had to cut ties with a lot of people and distance myself, and I'm really sorry for doing that, but I had no choice because I was literally dying from the inside. When I came back to Tumblr in 2022, I was absolutely alone and I had no friends, no followers and in some ways I felt calm and peaceful. I always thought and probably still think that I should be alone and isolated from everyone, like a soulless writing machine just producing fanfictions for people to consume. Maybe this is not a bad thing, because interacting with people always carries the risk of getting bruised?

Anyway, the thing that broke me completely was the news I received in the last days of January that I would be fired in February because my company decided to close the project I was working on due to the high inflation and bad economic situation in Russia. So now I have to find a job within February because I have a lot of financial responsobilities like paying for the medical treatment my family is getting. My grandmother was diagnosed with kidney cancer and her surgery was paid for by me and my fiancé, but the medicine costs a lot, so… after I told my mom about my news, she blamed me for everything. I was not really surprised though, considering that I have been having fights with my whole family for the past few months over different topics, but mostly they hate me for my political opinions. Whenever I say that I am tired of the war, sanctions and all the other stuff that 2022 has brought, they call me a fucking traitor. My family is ready to cancel me just because I told them I was tired of living in isolation, that I had even forgotten what my life was like before the war. My fiancé is literally the only person in my family who supports me, and even though I'm going to lose my job, he told me he would do anything for me, for us, but I don't want to be a burden. I'm really scared about the future, I think I really am now.

So, I'm sorry for not finishing the Christmas fics I promised to post, I'll try to finish them soon. Also, I'm sorry for not being active with fulfilling the requests and replying to your asks. I'm really sorry. And I know some of you might think that why I keep writing new series and working on different stuff while I have WIPs I need to finish—I'm just trying to follow my muse and I can say that it's really unstable these days, but I'm really trying to do my best and deliver something good for all of you!

I also want to thank all of you who have supported me with your donations! It means the world to me! Unfortunately, my account on the platform I was using for donations has been suspended because of… DOLLARS! They think I'm a scammer or something because the dollar is such a cursed currency in Russia right now, so I don't know if they'll unban my account, I hope they will.

Okay, that was longer than I thought it would be. To end this crazy rant, I just want to thank you guys for sticking with me no matter how fucked up I might be! I believe that one day I will find my way back to myself so that I can come back strong and refreshed!

[yexthiccxa]

Secrets of the Second Shift - (Part 5)

summary: Choso wakes up and sees that you've left his place in the middle of the night (part 4). He gives you the cold shoulder but when you sort out a misunderstanding, the week goes from tough ...to rough ;)

wordcount: 4.4k words

full fic c/w: choso smut, choso/fem!reader, choso/oc, modern!au, some plot, plot what plot, porn with plot, gentleman!choso, soft!choso, praise kink, blindfold sex, oral, fingering, vaginal sex, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms

a/n: let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this!

Tumblr Master List | Read this chapter on AO3!

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

FIVE HOURS EARLIER

The sky is still dark. You wake up in a room that is illuminated by the glow of the moonlight coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows, a room that isn’t yours. Right. Turning your head, you see Choso lying next to you in a deep sleep. Even in the dead of night, he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

The clock on the bedside table reads 1:03 a.m. “Fuck,” you mutter.

You shift carefully, mindful not to disturb him, and glance around the room. The chaos of earlier is gone. Your clothes have been folded neatly on a nearby chair, and the abandoned dishes from dinner are nowhere in sight. Did he really make the extra effort to clean all this up? How sweet. You think.

The thought sends a warm but unsettling jolt through you. Part of you wants to lay back down, bury yourself in the comfort of the bed, and settle into the arms of the beautiful man sleeping next to you.

But then there’s that other part of you—the louder, nagging voice that reminds you staying means more than just a night. It’s not just sharing a bed; it’s sharing something more, something you’re not ready for.

Your decision feels bittersweet, but it’s for the best. Carefully, you slip out from under the sheets, get dressed, and find the rest of your belongings. You slip out the front door quietly in hopes of not waking him. When you make it out, you head to the lobby and call yourself an Uber.

Your ride arrives faster than you expect, and within minutes you’re home. The familiarity of your space doesn’t bring the comfort you thought it would. Instead, your mind is restless. You pace for a few minutes before sitting on the edge of your bed, phone in hand.

You can’t just leave without saying anything, you tell yourself.

Your internal panic causes you to scroll through your recent calls. When you press the contact on your phone, you bring it straight to your ear and hope to the heavens he’s a deep enough sleeper to have the call go to voicemail. As it rings, you find yourself resting your head in the palm of your hand.

“The person you are trying to dial is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone.”

Thank god.

“Hey. I figured it would be easier to call you instead," you start, words catching in your throat for a second. "Today was honestly so great and I’m so thankful for everything you did today. You’re so sweet and I love that about you.”

You pause, unsure of what else to say, but finally gather up the courage to let it out. “But if I’m being real, I’m just not used to this… yet. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone like that. I hate to admit it, I guess I’m just scared of things becoming complicated.”

Your chest tightens, like you’ve stuck a dagger through your own heart. “Anyways, it’s late and I think we should probably just talk about this more in person. But I just wanted to call and let you know that I’m home safe and to say…. thanks, I guess.”

You let out one last breath. “I’ll see you at work.”

The silence hangs heavy before you end the call abruptly. You set the phone down and lay back on your own bed just to stare at the ceiling. You can’t stop your mind from wondering what he’ll think when he hears it.

✦✧✸✧✦

“I’m only saying this because I love you, but you look like shit” Yuki begins as she settles into her desk, unpacking her laptop. She studies you critically. “...and you never look like shit.”

You blink, trying to ground yourself after a night of tossing and turning. “Huh? Oh—yeah, I just… didn’t sleep well last night.”

Yuki’s eyes narrow, sharp with suspicion. “Damn. Late night?” She leans in closer to you, lowering her voice. “Wait… with Choso?”

“No, no, no—�� Lie. You scramble for something convincing. “I don’t think I’m gonna go for him.” Another lie. “I’ve just been thinking about it more…” Not a lie. “...and I think it’s probably best to just keep things professional.” Half-lie.

“Fine.” She sighs dramatically, sitting back in her chair. “Just know, I’m still rooting for you two.” Her grin returns as she looks past you. “Oh, speak of the devil…”

You glance up and instinctively call out to him. “Hey, Choso!”

Choso meets your eyes briefly, but his gaze flicks away almost instantly as he strides toward the break room without a word. The abruptness stings, even if it’s what you expected.

Yuki whistles low under her breath. “Oof. Ice cold.”

You get up to follow him, but before you can catch him, Naoya cuts in front of you. He has a stack of papers in hand and an unsettling smugness radiating from him. “Good morning. Here are the notes from last week’s focus group. I’ll need you to analyze these and add your findings to the kickoff presentation that’s happening later this month.”

You frown, flipping through the papers. “What presentation?”

“I sent an email yesterday,” he says with exaggerated patience. “We’re meeting with stakeholders from a potential lead to discuss the feasibility of our new product. Try to finish early so Choso has time to review the deck before he presents.”

Your jaw tightens. “Excuse me? Choso? Is there a reason he’s doing the presentation for my research?”

Naoya’s smirk deepens. “Let’s just say he knows what the audience is looking for.”

“What the fu—” You stop short, forcing yourself to take a deep breath before HR gets involved. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Naoya says slowly, “analyze your findings, finish the presentation, and send it to Choso. You’re lucky I’m giving you a head start.”

He spins on his heel and walks off, leaving your irritation simmering.

You don’t waste time. Marching to the break room, you find Choso by the coffee machine. “Choso,” you say, voice firm.

He glances up, expression unreadable. “Morning.”

“Can we talk?” you ask, trying to get his attention.

His focus is still glued to the coffee machine. “If you’d like to schedule some time later,” he says flatly, “feel free to book any available slot on my calendar.”

Your jaw drops. The audacity.

He lifts his gaze slightly, just enough to meet yours. For a fleeting moment, there’s something almost soft in his expression—a tiny flicker of warmth that you might’ve imagined.

“By the way, did Naoya tell you about the presentation?” he asks, voice even.

And just like that, the warmth vanishes, replaced by the same guarded professionalism you didn’t know you could hate.

“Yes,” you answer, matching his curt tone.

“Great.” He nods, grabbing his mug. As he moves past you, he adds, “Looking forward to seeing your findings,” the words clipped and distant as he steps out of the room.

Well he certainly put the pro in professional. You can’t fault him for staying true to the boundaries, but what the hell was that? 

The rest of the week is no better. Choso avoids you when he can, and when he can’t, his interactions are painfully brief and impersonal. You hoped that every new day would be a fresh start, but every interaction was filled with short hellos, no goodbyes, or ten second comments about the weather. It was like Choso was a shell of the man—not the man who once held you so gently. 

You have no reason to be mad. After all, you’re the one who set the playing field. He’s just following the rules. You try not to think too much of it, but the distance gnaws at you with each passing day. The romantic part of you (or what’s left of it) feels like this is torture, while the logical part reassures you this is for the best. Unfortunately, neither side has any idea how to make it through the week.

By the time Friday rolls around, you’re surprised you’re still sane. Every day has been an exhausting blend of tension, awkward exchanges, and overthinking. You hope that today is the day you can finally settle things with Choso, but it’s 3pm and you haven’t seen him all day.

You’re at your desk working on the deck for the kickoff presentation, when you see one of the guys from Choso’s team.

“Hey, Yuji,” you call, swiveling your chair toward him. “Have you seen Choso today?”

Yuji pauses, scratching the back of his head. “Saw him this morning, but I think he’s out for the rest of the day. Something about schmoozing a potential lead.”

Is this the same lead for the presentation this month? You try not to let your frustration show, but your tone gets the better of you. “Got it. Thanks.”

Yuji pauses, trying to redirect the conversation to lighten the mood. “Are you coming to Happy Hour tonight?” he asks, grinning.

“Not this time,” you say with a polite shake of your head. “Maybe the next one.”

“It’ll be fun!” He leans in. “I told Choso to go. If he shows up, maybe you two can talk there!”

“It’s okay,” you reply, forcing a smile. “Thanks for letting me know, though. I’ll just catch up with him next week.”

Yuji shrugs and walks away, leaving you alone with the sinking realization that you won’t even get to see Choso for the second shift. You find yourself crushed under disappointment, but you try not to let it show.

When the clock finally hits five, you grab your things and head to Blinded Bliss. When you walk through the platinum doors, you make a beeline for the bar, ignoring everything—including Satoru’s smug grin as waves at you.

“Two tequilas,” you tell the bartender, tapping your nails impatiently on the counter. “Heavy pour.”

“Whoa there, love,” Satoru’s voice cuts in from behind, startling you. “Tough week?”

“You could say that,” you reply flatly. “But it’s really no one’s fault except my own. I made my bed, now I have to lay in it.”

Satoru doesn’t pry, but instead tries to make light of the situation. “Well, hopefully that bed makes you some big bucks. A few high rollers are back tonight, you know what that means.”

“Great,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Look how well that worked out for me last time.”

Satoru chuckles, leaning against the bar. “Stop being a Debbie Downer. I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”

“Whatever, Satoru,” you say, waving him off.

“Oh, by the way,” he says casually, placing his hand on your shoulder. “Sorry I never called you back earlier this week. It was late, and I had an early morning. Totally slipped my mind.”

You pick your head up, confused. “Huh?” You blink, the words not quite landing. “What call?”

“Monday or Tuesday maybe?” he replies, pulling out his phone. “You left me a voicemail. Didn’t actually get to listen to it though. You know me—busy bee.”

Your stomach tightens. “Satoru. What voicemail?”

He shrugs, tapping a few times on his phone before holding it out. A recording plays, and your own voice filters through the bar’s noise like a ghost from the past:

“Hey. I figured it would be easier to call you instead… Today was honestly so great, and I’m so thankful…”

Your heart pounds as you frantically grab your phone, scrolling to your recent calls. You hold your breath, dreading what you’re about to see.

Monday’s call didn’t go to Choso.

It went to Satoru Gojo.

Your stomach plummets. “Oh fuck,” you whisper, the realization dawning like a storm cloud.

✦✧✸✧✦

“It’s not even that bad,” Satoru says, leaning back against the wall with an easy shrug, his tone too nonchalant for your spiraling thoughts.

“Satoru, he probably thinks I’m an asshole!” you hiss. “What kind of decent person leaves without any context?”

“Well,” he says, smirking, “you did say you were trying to keep it casual.”

“I meant friends with benefits casual, not one-night stand casual!” you snap, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Satoru raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Splitting hairs now, aren’t we?”

You groan, pressing your palms against your temples. The memory of Choso—his soft touch, the tenderness in his eyes, the careful way he’d folded your clothes—flashes through your mind. Guilt claws at your chest. You’re trapped in the endless loop of replaying that moment you slipped out the door, convincing yourself you made the right call while feeling the crushing weight of regret.

Satoru snaps to bring you back to reality. “Hey! Listen, I am happy to let you vent all night if that’s what you need, but right now? I need you to snap out of it.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Fine.”

“Good. Trust me, by the end of the night, you’ll forget all about what happened.” He gives you a self assured wink. “Have you ever had a bad time in this room?”

You sigh, reluctantly admitting, “...No.”

“Exactly,” he says, grabbing the black fabric blindfold from the bed. “Now, let’s get this on you so we can begin.”

The soft material brushes against your skin as he ties it securely over your eyes. The darkness heightens every sound—the creak of the door, the muffled voices, the footsteps of those entering. The bids start like any other night, with Satoru rejecting men one after the other. Their polished words fall flat, their presence failing to meet his standards.

After what feels like an eternity (and far more candidates than usual) your shoulders begin to sag. Your mind is filled with frustration and mingling with hopelessness. You’ve lost count of how many people you’ve gone through, but each rejection stings more than the last.

Just as you’re about to resign yourself to disappointment, the door opens again. This time, a heaviness fills the room. No words are spoken, but the weight of the silence speaks volumes.

You can hear Satoru’s measured footsteps as he circles the room, assessing. “Hmm…I was beginning to think the well would run dry,” he muses, his tone intrigued.

The silence stretches. You hold your breath, waiting for him to continue, wondering why this time feels different.

“Ready to give him a taste, love?” he finally asks.

The question catches you off guard. What is going on? Satoru never moves to the second phase without a single word exchanged, so you’re left to wonder what’s different this time around. Before you can dwell on it, a familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

“With all due respect, Satoru—I have been waiting all week for this. I’d rather taste her all by myself.”

Your heart stutters, the blood rushing to your ears. You know that voice.

“Very well,” Satoru replies smoothly, you can sense the amusement in his tone. “Enjoy, Choso.”

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone with the man who’s haunted your thoughts all week.

Choso’s footsteps approach, deliberate and slow. He reaches out, his fingers grazing the edge of the blindfold before slipping it off. The dim light floods your vision, but it’s nothing compared to the intensity of his gaze.

“You’re here,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. “...But aren’t you supposed to be with everyone else right now?”

He closes the distance between you, his palm cupping your cheek with a tenderness that stops your words. His touch is warm, grounding you, but his eyes burn with something unspoken.

“The only person I have any interest in being with right now is you,” he says, his voice soft but unwavering.

“Choso, I’m so sorry. I tried calling, but—”

He doesn’t let you finish. His hands frame your face, pulling you closer. The proximity is electrifying. “If you want things clean, we can keep it clean,” he says, his tone low and deliberate. “If you want no pressure, no attachments, no strings, you’ve got it.”

Your breath catches as his words sink in, leaving you speechless.

“All I know,” he continues, his voice thick with restrained longing, “is that I’ve spent this entire week fighting every urge to put my hands all over you every time I see you. I want you… badly. So if this is what I need to do to have you, I’ll do it all.”

You try to find the words to explain everything, but the words can’t seem to form. Instead, you let out a faint whisper to repeat yourself. “I—I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” he says, a hint of a smile ghosting across his lips before he kisses you.

Whenever Choso has his lips on you, it feels like he can never get enough, but this time it feels controlled. His rhythm is sensual and slow, like every kiss is meant to savor every last bit he’s missed throughout the week.

Before you get lost in his touch, he manages to pull back. He looks at you with sincerity before his gaze darkens into lustful desire. “But if you still want to make it up to me…” he starts. “...Be a good girl and open up for me.”

The drop in Choso’s voice has your insides trembling with arousal. You notice how his demeanor has completely shifted. This is different from any other version of him that’s been between your legs. It’s dark, rough, and the type of Choso that commands your presence without even lifting a finger. You don't know what’s coming next, but you’re more than willing to step into the storm he’s offering.

 “Yes, sir.”

Your words trigger Choso’s desire to be close to you. Within seconds, you feel the weight of his body pinning you to the bed.

When you look into his eyes, the soft flames turn into a deep fiery abyss. His lips find yours with a possessive force that electrifies your core. Choso doesn’t just want you, he needs to have you and nothing will stop him.

As you kiss, you feel him slide your wrists above your head. “You know, in thinking about this a bit more, maybe a few creative consequences might be a bit more fun.” His words come out as a smoldering whisper as he motions to the restraints attached to the headboard. “You up for it?”

The thought of Choso strapping you down and having his way with you does more to your filthy mind than expected. “Mhmm,” you hum, the rush from your core begins to drip out of you.

He pauses. “Excuse me?” he teases as he locks his eyes onto yours. This is a man who is ready to dominate you from the inside out.

You give him a playfully challenging look. “Sorry—yes, sir,” you reply.

His mouth curls into a devilish grin. “Better.” Choso wraps the cuffs around your wrists, leaving yourself vulnerable to anything he could possibly do to you. “If you want to get out of these, you’ll have to earn it. How ‘bout it beautiful, ready to play?”

You watch him undress, paying attention to every muscle that’s revealed. When he finally slips on a condom, you spread your legs wide open and purr,  “Always ready for you.”

Choso sets his bare body against yours and brings his hand to your folds. He inserts his fingers into you like it’s second nature.

The motion causes you to take in a sharp inhale. God, you’ve missed how full his fingers feel inside you. “Oh yes Cho—”

“Look how wet you’re getting for me, I can’t wait to be inside that tight fucking pussy.”

The way he speaks to you fills your mind with sinful thoughts. You want him to not only fuck your tight pussy, but absolutely destroy it.

Maybe Choso is a mind reader because your wish is his command.

Without taking his hand off your clit, Choso moves himself between your thighs and directs his length into your entrance. He presses into you in one solid motion and your mind gets an instant hit of bliss.

“Fuck—” you cry, soaking all of him in.

“You’ve got it, babe.” He praises as he continues to thrust into you. “Show me how well you can take this dick.”

You want to wrap your arms around him, but the restraints serve their purpose and keep you in place. You’d think your inability to take control would frustrate you, but instead it unleashes a part of you that drives you to the brink of sensual madness. Your attraction to Choso and the way he takes charge is through the roof. You could come right here and now if you wanted to, but you know he has a lot more in store for you.

When you’ve properly adjusted to him and your wetness coats his entire shaft, his pace begins to pick up. He takes his hands and grips the outside of your thighs, the pads of his fingers burn into your skin as he raises your legs to your shoulders.

When he dips down deep inside of you, all you can hear are your needy moans filling the room.

“Good job, babe. No one’s ever taken my cock as good as you,” Choso growls. His voice is rough and labored, but unmistakably laced with passion and desire.

As he pounds himself inside of you, you can feel how much he craves the connection between you two. Being the sole source of his pleasure makes you crazy and you know that you both want the same thing: more.

“Fuck yes, Choso—harder” you plead.

To your dismay, he actually slows down—but the look on his face tells you he’s nowhere near stopping. “I’ll give you harder, princess. Flip over for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you purr. The restraints give you just enough slack to cross them over so you can set yourself on all fours. You rest your head into your elbows and arch your back to angle your ass upwards for Choso.

He palms your ass and gives it a firm slap before drilling himself back in. The thunderous sound of his hand against your skin echoes throughout the room.

The delicious stinging sensation on your flesh causes you to throw your head back with pleasure. But before you can return back to your position, you feel Choso grab a handful of your hair. He firmly tugs you back until he can whisper in your ear. “How’s that for harder, beautiful?”

He continues to drive into you, each thrust more irresistible than the last. Tears begin to fall down your cheek, but you can’t help but get drunk off of the intoxicating pain. “So…f—fucking…good,” you try to say between each breath.

Being manhandled by Choso is downright addictive. He commands you in a way that doesn’t need to be spoken. Everytime he grabs your waist, his grip says you’re mine. When he spanks your ass, his touch says you’re mine. Even when he pulls you closer to kiss your neck, his lips say you’re mine. You don't fight back because you happily oblige.

The sound of skin slapping against each other paired with a melody of grunts and moans tears through the whole room. There’s no signs of stopping until you feel the tightness in your center dance on the edge, ready to burst.

Time seems to slow when Choso is inside you, but that doesn’t stop how quickly your orgasm creeps up. You try to speak but your words come out as incoherent moans. “Choso, I’m so close—”

Choso quickly replies, “Nope—consequences, remember?” He may be god’s gift to earth, but right now he’s playing the devil. “You’re going to have to hold it in until I say you can come.” You can hear the menacing grin through his voice.

Somehow that demand turns you on even more. “Cho—” you whine.

“If you want it so badly, beg for it.” His voice is rough as he penetrates deeper into you.

You can’t help the moans that come out when he slams into your cervix. “Please Choso, let me come on your cock.”

“Good girl,” he muses. “Just like that.”

You try to hold back but you’re almost at your peak. “Please Cho—I can’t…” you pant.

“Just a little more, baby.” His pace remains unrelenting. “Breathe. You can take it.”

You try to hold yourself back as much as you can, but every second gets harder than the last. All you want to do is have your pussy throb around his dick. The way he’s making you feel is too good.

Finally, he pulls your hair to bring you up one last time and it’s like you’ve reached salvation. Choso moves his hand to cup the edges of your neck and whispers, “Come with me.”

Immediately, you shatter. And Choso is right there with you.

The gentle grip of his hands around your neck intensifies your orgasm. It makes you feel so light you could practically ascend to heaven. Your only hope right now is that Choso feels the same way too.

You can hear the groans of him coming undone, it’s like music to your ears. When he lightens his hold, his chest falls to your back. It’s soothing how well he fits around you, part of you wants to stay like this forever.

But alas, all good things come to an end. Fortunately for you, something even better waits for you at the end of the tunnel. Choso untangles you from the restraints and releases the cuffs around your wrist. When you’re on your back, he brings himself closer and wraps his arms securely around you.

Choso plants a kiss onto your lips before giving you an admiring look. “You’ve earned your way out this time, but let’s see how well you fare next Friday.”

Your smirk is paired with a playful tone. "Remind me to have Satoru update the schedule so we can do this every day."

He chuckles. "Sure, but that’ll have to wait.” His gaze turns into something deep and darker. “...I’m not even finished with you yet."

You lean in closer, your voice breathless but daring. "Give me everything you’ve got…I can take it."

Once again, he’s on top of you in the blink of an eye. "That’s my girl."

--

taglist: @jud3thedude @makingtimemine @chosslut @liiiacke @trishiepo0 @celestialforce

[txttletale]

idk if you wanted a response for the "What if nobody likes xyz person, do they just die?" idea under anarchist thought, but i think the reason it's brushed off so often is because in a lot of areas with mutual aid networks, at least in my experience, this has happened and either there were people involved who didn't mind the shitty person and helped or everyone gritted their teeth to help anyway.

i don't have an answer to "Well what if they dont", because that hasn't ever been an issue in any anarchist collective ive been in that already exists. same with more strenuous tasks like medicine, there's some diy hrt communities in my local anarchist community too and specifically our bathtub joe has delivered hormones to her rapist with the protection of a few people she trusts and a pocket knife if they tried anything.

i don't know if a lot of anarchists interact with you in good faith, and a lot of tumblr anarchists are baby leftists at best, so i wanted to answer even if your reply to this was dismissive

to be clear: i know and talk to a lot of cool anarchists, including friends and mutuals and comrades. the vast majority of anarchists i know -- "the best of the anarchists", as lenin once put it -- are serious and intelligent people worth enaging with, and while capitalism remains the order of the day, my political allies.

that said, i think you've slightly misunderstood the point i was making -- i was not discussing the bathtub joe situation to say "no hierarchy means people die, checkmate anarchists" -- i'm sure my hypothetical scenario could be resolved happily! rather, it is to illustrate that in a system with no formal hierarchy, there are going to be material and mechanical reasons that put someone in a position of de facto authority over someone else. if you get something that you need to survive from someone (or a group of someones) that person has power over you -- & if you Live In A Society, you will always need things from other people to survive. even if they don't excercise that power maliciously, it still exists.

& maybe that isn't an intractable problem! but i think anarchists need to start from a position of acknowledging that power is real when they talk about how things should be organized & i think they very often don't

[youryanderedaddy]

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

This person @moyazaika goes into more lengthy detail too of what @fangdokja-anon writes and supports. And remember, @yanderedrabbles also supports @fangdokja-anon

Oh my! Thank you for telling me about this, I had no idea. They will be blocked. This behavior is disgusting - I scanned some of their page now and noticed they posted some really questionable things (like reader only being pale and skinny? lmao yikes). Homophobia or any type of hatred is not something I can accept or stand by.

And to be completely frank and transparent, I wasn't exactly thrilled to be tagged in their mega-recommendations post. I felt like my work was being reduced to just erotica or porn, which honestly hurt me a bit, and to be broadcasted and compared next to other blogs (without being asked first or anything) in the way they did, as if putting us in excel sheets... yeah. But anyways, thanks for bringing this to my attention. time to get even gayer :33

[aphroditelovesu]

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

This person @moyazaika goes into more lengthy detail too of what @fangdokja-anon writes and supports. And remember, @yanderedrabbles also supports @fangdokja-anon

I'm not mutuals with any of the people you mentioned, anon. But I did see what was going on, albeit from the outside because I haven't been online on tumblr lately. I was so disbelieving that I just blocked them and decided not to engage with them. Ah, prejudiced people in the yandere community that have so many topics and subjects that can be explored? I'm not going to lie that THIS took me by surprise.

I'll speak for myself: my blog is a safe space for everyone, regardless of sexuality, gender, religion, or anything. I'm bi myself and have written for sapphic relationships, just as most of my content is gender-neutral so that everyone can identify with it, with no description of the Reader's appearance or gender unless someone specifies it in a request, otherwise it's neutral. Just like the issue of a specific religion or beliefs for a given context, I've written about Christian!Reader once because I was asked to, and I remember receiving something about Atheist!Reader and Jewish!Reader as well. I, Larissa, am agnostic and don't have a specific belief, but I respect all religions and beliefs equally.

As I said, my blog is open to everyone but I do not tolerate, in any way, any kind of hate, homophobia, transphobia and any kind of hatred towards any person or community. So, if you are homophobic or have these kinds of views, please block me.

Just like when I write about Child!Reader is and always will be platonic (I never wrote and I will never write about pedophilia) and the yanderes tend to be more softs because the Reader is a child.

And honestly, in my opinion, why would you be a friend of someone who does not agree with your sexuality or your way of life because of their beliefs? I, unfortunately, have already dealt with many people who said that "God created man and woman the rest is not natural" and I know how it is. And many of them are my relatives, sadly.

With the wave of hate growing more and more towards the queer community, I see it in my country, online, and in other places too, I avoid these as much as possible this kind of things and people. More and more I see queer people being attacked for no reason just for being who they are. And that's so fucking sad and wrong!

Anyway, I just wanted to say these things. I'm not spreading hate towards anyone because I don't do that, but it's sad to see that we're increasingly regressing and the hatred towards queer people is increasing more and more, instead of people opening their minds and understanding that human beings have been queer since the beginning of humanity.

[bonefall]

Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.

Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P

Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge

It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.

To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.

Summary of changes,

Tallstar's Collapse

Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!

(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)

His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader

It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful

(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)

WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.

Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made

The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.

Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory

Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"

Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"

But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...

Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...

Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."

Anyway. Back to the cat drama

Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.

Not that it excuses anyone

Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over

(Until Tall breaks it ofc)

Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling

Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over

Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback

Which is making his relationships with his parents worse

All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then

And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.

Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.

When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this

Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.

He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep

(Little sister energy)

They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.

It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.

They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.

It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...

The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.

For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!

But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?

What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?

The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow

He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--

(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)

He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft

The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.

And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.

In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.

Sandgorse was there. And they talked.

His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.

The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."

Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.

Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!

But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.

And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat

(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)

He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.

The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.

And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.

Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!

And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.

(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)

It is the end. But neither can admit it.

But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.

POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse

Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse

Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.

The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.

Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"

How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?

He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.

Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.

So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.

And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.

Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.

Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.

In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.

Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.

Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.

One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.

Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.

As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.

His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.

(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)

Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?

And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.

It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.

When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?

Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?

On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?

Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.

BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.

Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.

Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.

Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.

The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.

Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.

He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.

You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.

And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.

Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: This might a 2 or 3 parter. College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that troupe and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing I think, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Derogatory use of the word puck bunny. Bucky is a playboy. There is not interaction be MC and Bucky quite yet.

Word Court: 1935

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

“I don’t know what to do,” you groaned as you threw your head back against the worn couch. 

“I want the project to focus on movement, but lifelike movement. Human movement.” You mocked your professor. It not being nature themed had to be a jab just for you. All your projects were nature related or still motion. 

“Professor Grace wasn’t targeting you,” Wanda said, letting out a chuckle at your dramatics. 

“Are you sure you’re not a drama major?” Pietro laughed as he threw a butter packet at you. 

“You two are the worst,” you sighed as you threw your arm over your eyes. Twins, why did my best friends have to be twins. The world is cruel, your thoughts drift.

“Why don’t you come to the track and draw me?” Pietro wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes in response.  

“Eh,” you sighed. You didn’t want a solution at the moment. You just wanted to complain. 

“She just wants to vent guys,” Natasha said as she came through the door holding a couple bags of takeout and a box of wine. “And I doubt she wants to see you and the rest of the track team in those tiny little running shorts you call clothing,” she sassed at Pietro. He just laughed, and stuck a pose with his leg up on the bar stool next to the island counter causing you all to laugh with him. 

“Thank you,” you exclaimed as she handed you your food. You threw a 10 at her and settled back down into the couch. 

“You know, you could come by the rink and draw a couple of the guys,” Nat mentioned. Her long term boyfriend was on the hockey team, Clint, a sharpshooting winger nicknamed Hawkeye. 

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “I’m not going to have them think I’m one of those, puck kitties, or whatever they’re called.” 

“Puck bunny,” Wanda chimed in, you pointed your chopstick at her and smiled. 

Natasha let out a loud laugh, one of those full bodied ones, “god they won’t think that.” You raised your eyebrow at her and gave her an incredulous look. 

“I can’t have them showing off because I’m there. I need to get them in their element. Not focused on what I’m doing,” you groaned again. “Biggest issue is I will need permission from the person or people. So they’ll have to know.” 

“Like I said Princessa, draw me. You have my permission,” Pietro winked, you rolled your eyes at him. 

“You’re too obvious of a choice. And as much as Wanda insists that Professor Grace doesn’t have a personal vendetta against me, she’ll love pointing out I picked the safe option,” you whined. 

“Wanda, you haven’t seen Grace in class. She will take any chance to criticize her pieces. Nitpicking to the extreme.” Natasha chimed in, “if it wasn’t for Dr. Rain I think our resident artist would've failed out of this course by now.” Dr. Rain was the head of the art department and after a wholly undergraded piece you submitted last semester Prof. Grace was on thin ice. So she graded you fairly but took every chance to tear you apart in front of the class. 

“I’ll think about the hockey team. It would be the least expected from me anyway,” you signed and got up from the couch taking everyone’s garbage and throwing it out. Football season was over, but the hockey season was in full swing right now and our team was top of the league. 

“They have practice tomorrow night, you should come by and look at it,” Nat said, giving you a knowing look. 

~The Next Day~

That's how you ended up in the rink. Underdressed because you didn’t realize how cold an ice rink would be in the stands. You were right though, about the type of girls that hung out there, they were scantily dressed and leaning over the tunnel that the players exited and entered from. How they weren’t frozen baffled you. 

Nat was sitting reading a chemistry book across from you near the bench, as you didn’t want the team knowing you knew her. Well everyone but Clint. You’ve hung out quite a few times over the past couple years. You took a seat a few rows up opposite the bench near what Nat called the Sin bin (penalty box.) It gave an excellent undisrupted view of the rink and the players as they practiced. 

The sounds of skates gliding over fresh ice and sticks bouncing off it was an almost soothing sound. The puck skittered across the ice as it was passed between teammates and shot toward the empty net. The goalie, a guy named Quill, was performing some kind of ritual at the opposite end of the rink. Nat mentioned he was a bit of an odd duck. But according to her all goalies were odd in their own ways. 

The movement was fluid and easy to follow. How these giant men moved so weightlessly across the ice left you in awe. The Captain of the team was a blonde center named Steve Rogers, better known as Cap. Most of the school knew him, he was in a few of your art classes over the semesters. His girlfriend Peggy, was the student union president. 

The star of the team was his blurry best friend James “Bucky” Barnes. He was a “winger,” with good prospects for the NHL according to Nat as she gave you a lowdown of the team as you guys went there just after practice started. He was nicknamed the White Wolf. How a man of his size moved that easily was mesmerizing, he almost floated over the ice and it looked like he was dancing. He was sinfully handsome as well. Every other week he had a new girl hanging off his arm. Undoubtedly one of those puck bunnies as they were called. He was the talk of the school after the football season concluded. 

It made you dislike him on principle. The sports were definitely more priority in the school and the art department lacked thanks to these overgrown toddlers on skates. But you couldn’t deny his natural handsomeness, he looked effortlessly handsome and it was almost unfair. 

You looked down at your sketch pad that you had been absently scratching at. Bucky seemed to be your muse because you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he effortlessly skated around the rink. You were in danger and you knew it. You gulped and closed the book before quickly gathering your things and leaving. 

It didn’t take Nat long to text you and ask where you went. You sent her a quick message back saying you were cold. Not that Bucky, the school's playboy, had quickly become the muse of your piece. 

“Nat, I thought you said your friend was coming by,” Clint asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“She did, she left because she was cold,” Nat chuckled. 

“Anyone know the pretty one watching by the sin bin?” She overheard Wilson ask. “And what she was doing?” 

“I think I was in a couple art classes with her,” Steve mentioned missing your name. 

“I won’t complain if she comes by again,” Barnes said. Wilson raised a brow at him. 

“What, so you can break her heart well?” 

“Look doll, it’s not you,” 

“It’s me.” Wilson and Stark said together. Barnes shot both men a glare. Then the high pitched whine of Barnes newest fling squealed his name and that was Clint and Nat’s queue to hightail it out of there. The collective groans from the rest of the team matched her thoughts. 

~A couple days later~

“Loki, I don’t know what I’m going to do, this project is worth too much for me to go safe,” you sighed as you laid your head on his lap. He was reading some classic novel for his English class in the student commons. His fingers nimbly moved through your hair as he held the book in the other hand. 

“Darling, just go back to the ice rink,” he knew almost immediately when something was up when you were walking together a couple days later. The perspective bastard. Loki was your best friend since middle school, his brother Thor was the star quarterback for the football team in both high school and here. 

“Why would I do that,” you pouted. 

“Because you clearly want to draw this man, and it will ruin you for months just like that piece you did of Helena,” he said shortly. Helena or Hela was his big sister and she was absolutely stunning. You had pined over drawing her for a piece for months before Loki forced you to ask her. It fixed everything and life back to normal after you painted the piece. 

“I hate when you do that,” you whined, his eyes flicking down to your face. 

“Hate what darling,” he mused. 

“That, being reasonable and knowing what I need before I admit what I need to do.” He laughed and ruffled your hair affectionately. 

“Comes with years of experience,” he sighed and placed his book down next to his leg. “Do bundle up this time will you,” he called as you walked away, you quickly flipped him the bird as you rounded the corner. 

And there you were back at the rink again. Although tonight was a game night and the rink was packed. “20 dollars,” a nasally boy said as he pushed his glasses up, he looked bored out of his mind. 

“Pardon?” You asked, looking at him. 

“It’s 20 dollars to get in the game,” he said in an annoyed tone. 

“Oh, I’m a student,” you showed your ID card, he rolled his eyes, “5 dollars.” You nodded and placed the five down. Only partners of the team got in free. Perk of fucking one of the team members you guessed, that must have outweighed the fear of them cheating or getting bored. You knew that wasn’t fair. At least two of the guys were in committed relationships and one was in an on again off again relationship. The rest though you weren’t sure, you shock your head at the thought. 

You caught the flaming red hair of Nat in her reserved seat next to the bench, Peggy was next to her. There were a few open seats at the top of the rink, not great from getting a good view of what you needed to draw. But it would have to do. Instantly your eyes were drawn to Barnes, number 17, flying up the ice leaving the opposing team in the dust, snow? With a quick flick of his wrist the puck was shot sideways and Barton scored. The crowd stood and cheered loudly. You wished you had ear plugs now. The buzzer was insanely loud and made your ears ring. How Nat enjoyed this you’d never understand. Barton. You thought, Nat wasn’t big on sports, but she was big on her sweet boyfriend. 

You focused on Barnes as he showboated around the rink, celebrating his assist. He moved so fluidly, you were mesmerized. You drew many little pieces focusing on the movement trying to capture the effortlessness of him skating. You were startled from your drawing when the buzzer screeched again the crowd roared in applause. The team scored again and it seemed to be Barnes that scored this time. Hats flew onto the ice as he skated around. That was odd, you squinted at the action. His eyes caught yours for a split second as he rushed past and it felt like eternity. 

Read Chapter 2 here

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more <3

[banjo15]

EPIC RAP BATTLES OF HISTORY

ELON MUSK

VS

THE IRS

Hola fellas! I’m the irs- hold on this is bullshit you got IBS? I do taxes and shit, cause I’m the best. Nothing is safe no matter how you invest cause I investigated you life a little, the way you treat your children should make you a criminal. Taking a human shield whenever you walk through a minefield, what’s the deal? And how come you steal billions of dollars, yet can’t end world hunger? 13 women become single mothers cause of your weird pro-natalism fetish, to be honest man I don’t fucking get it. You’re a horrible dad, shits bad so sad! Your children hate you, the dad they never had. Seriously, just leave at that point you needa call a cab, the way you and Donald trump interact? I think you’re a…. Facist.

Hold on what’s this talk about me stealing shit? Every cent of my wealth was do to what I did. I make rockets, cars, and I profit off it. Multi-billion dollar businesses make my profits skyrocket. Richer than Mansa musa or John Rockefeller, you think you can beat me? You’re worse than Hellen Keller. Cause I like free speech, except for those damn liberals. They’re criminals, they hate America, it’s probably something subliminal. They probably hate me cause they can’t be civil. So what about my kids? I fucking hate my son, she ain’t my daughter that’s no fun. You think just because she takes hormones and takes a surgery and goes home? She’s a lady now? What the heck, she still got an Adam’s apple in her neck. So what if I’m a facist? I have liberals to deck. Cause I was on top of the world untill someone mentioned pronouns, I think it’s profound how this shit sounds. And me and Donald trump? Historians say we were gay, but so what? We slay,

Alright first of all no you fucking don’t slay, not today not any day if that matters cause I’m like dr Seuss, I’ll give you cancer then I’ll leave you to die knowing… no one loves you. Cause everyone who comes out of your balls hates you, not even your own dad celebrates you. Your teachers called you a retard, YOU WERE FUCKING HOMESCHOOLED! Not cool, how the fuck does that happen? Your dad talking shit about you while you’re napping. At this point stop repopulating the earth and think about why you want childbirth. Cause you abandoned every 12 kids you impregnate, most of your children never see you anyways! No matter how much money you spend on Twitter

It’s X!

FUCK YOU FIRST OF ALL! I’m gonna tax you so hard you can only crawl! Cause you? You’re rich enough to escape the paparazzi. Doesn’t make sense how you became a fucking Nazi.

Hold on there, I’m not a Nazi. And all these swastikas? I’m not the one holocausing it! Not even a little bit!

Horrible pun first of all I’m gonna make you pay extra, dude. If you were penniless no one would send you a single nude!

I still hit though-

Well your shit sucks! You couldn’t even make a woman cum for 10 bucks!

And also- first of I’m not a Nazi, my best friend is black!

HEYO GUYS IM KANYE WEST IM A FUCKING NAZI, I hate the Jews AND THE PAPPARAZI. Asking about my day? Fuck off it’s 3 am anyways.

He doesn’t mean that-

The Jews-

*Elon musk physically restrained Kanye west*

He didn’t mean that shit on X!

Both irs and Kanye: ITS TWITTER DIPSHIT

*They both kick Kanye west out the room*

Even then, how the fuck you lose Half your money twice? I give you some advice, maybe shut up and be nice? You can’t even play video games right, how the hell do you think you’re gonna put up a fight when some deranged lunatic on 4chan tumblr or Reddit says forget it! I’m gonna make sure you’re affected by the actions, first of all everyone on tumblrs a nerd, everyone on Reddit is a virgin, but everyone on 4chan is both versions. I know you’re neurodivergent but that doesn’t mean scream “HEIL HITLER” whenever a Volkswagen comes on screen.

Who won? Who’s next?

[mysticalcrowntyrant]

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

This person @moyazaika goes into more lengthy detail too of what @fangdokja-anon writes and supports. And remember, @yanderedrabbles also supports @fangdokja-anon

I'm someone who tries to avoid conflict as much as possible, but this is something I will not ignore.

People have a right to their opinions-that's something you can't argue with. So, just as FD has a right to theirs, I have a right to mine.

I fully support the LGBTQ community. To my knowledge, I have never read or interacted with their account. I was mutuals with Yanderedrabbles, and while I understand their argument, I do not completely agree with it.

As someone who grew up in an extremely Baptist, homophobic household, I know how hurtful even the "smallest" anti-queer statement can be. As for the infant SA, that’s just wrong. Really wrong.

I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. I try my best to be as open-minded as possible, and I hope my statement reflects that!

I do not know these people personally, so please keep that in mind!!!

[fandomsareforlife]

Lost In What You Think Of Me (And Too Confused To Choose Who I Should Be)

Zane always had felt…off. Even after learning who he is, and gaining his memories again of his father, he still doesn’t really know who Zane is. Pixal, or Primary Interactive eX-ternal Assistant Life-form,is an android with a specific purpose in mind: serve Cyrus Borg the best as she can. So when she meets the ninja, specifically one with white like her, she isn’t sure what to do about the new things that swarm her head. OR Zane and Pixal’s evolving relationship with both each other, life and gender, told over the series in a series of drabbles up to season 13.

AN: Hiiii I know I have been dead but I prommy I had a good reason. I was writing this beast of a fic! It's 12,534 words so I recommend reading it on AO3 but you do you boo

I wrote this for the Ninjago Big Bang 2024, with accompanying art from @froginninjago on Tumblr and @caseyjonesisinthehouse on tumblr!

Anyway, trigger warnings include canon typical violence, death (it is a Zane centric fic what you expect?), grief, accidental misgendering, and gender dysphoria

Read On AO3

Zane had never truly felt at peace before. He knew that he had come from somewhere, but where that was remained a mystery to him. He had no memories of who he was, nor did he have any knowledge on who he was supposed to be.

He did not know if he had any enemies in the past, or any friends. He did not know if he had always enjoyed ice cold drinks or if he used to prefer warm ones. He did not even know if his name really was “Zane,” or if that was just a name his mind came up with to deal with the lost memories of who he is. He did not even know if he was actually a male or not.

All he knew was that he woke up in a cold bed, with an elderly woman sitting next to it, in the dead of winter. She had asked him many questions, like where he was from, and what his name was, and why he was there.

Zane could answer none of them.

She gave him a funny look, her lips pursed, but she didn’t make any comments, instead telling him to take a shower and meet her when he was done.

There was an odd disconnect between his mind and his body as he bathed, but Zane chalked it up to not remembering what it was like before he ended up here, and ignored the voice in his mind that said that was not what it was.

The next months were a blur.

Zane was initially put into the orphanage, because he thought he was a teenager, but they kicked him out because he was considered too odd. He didn’t know why they thought that, but he had heard whispers about how he was “a fruity weirdo” and how he should be with the men more than the girls, and how he shouldn’t enjoy cooking as much as he did.

The comments made no sense to Zane, but he never asked for any clarification about them, instead simply leaving the village, for he figured that he should not cause any undue inconveniences on others. The old woman whose home he had woken up in was kind enough to give him a basket full of dried food, things that would last a long time, and warm clothes, no matter how much he insisted he did not need them.

Setting off into the world, Zane made a conscious effort to avoid staying in one place for far too long. He had learnt his lesson the first time: people would tolerate you for short doses, and then proceed to get annoyed at the idea of you existing, for some reason, so you had to leave.

He would stop occasionally at small villages, offering up what work he could do, mostly menial things like carrying lumber or picking crops, in exchange for money or food. At every village, he would eventually get ostracized, though, because he was "odd," just like he was shunned at the first village. And then he would be left on his own, with no real knowledge of who he was or what he was doing.

Eventually, Zane made his way down from the frozen mountains to the valleys, which, while just as cold as the mountains, were rumored to be abundant with natural resources that one could live off of if they were willing to endure the cold. Of course, no one would ever be crazy enough to do that, right?

Well, Zane was already considered crazy, and the cold did not bother him much anyway. He would take his chances.

And for a while, he was alone. He would occasionally pass by travelers trying to get to a village in the mountains, but they were far and few between. All Zane had was his meager supplies, the berries around him, and the few animals that were willing to brave the cold alongside him.

But one day, a strange man found him while he was meditating under the water. Zane was baffled as to what he was doing, but the man simply told Zane that he could come with him and have a place to stay, and in exchange Zane would train under him.

Something in Zane's mind told him he should go with the man, that he should be eager to protect the innocents, so with a nod, Zane got out of the water, and followed the man to his monastery.

~~~~~~

Getting to the monastery, Zane couldn’t help but still feel out of place, but at least here he had a purpose.

He was to be the ninja of ice, dressed in white. He was to defend those who could not defend themselves, as was the ninja way. He was getting better at his shurikens of ice, and at the obstacle course. In regards to ninja training, Zane was excelling.

On the other hand, he was not excelling at getting along with the ninja at some times.

It wasn’t like they were cruel. Not like the others at the villages Zane used to stop at on occasion, that forced him to run away time and time again from their cruelty. No, they were far kinder to him.

But he could not shake off the feeling of being an outsider. Maybe it was from how the others would talk about their families, and how they always seemed to know what to do, and they never seemed to feel out of place in their own bodies.

They didn’t seem to be drowning in something like Zane was.

Zane did try to get close to them. He played video games with them, sparred against them, cooked food for them, but…there was always a disconnect it seemed. Something always felt a bit…off.

The time this was most prevalent was when Cole showed him some of his drawings in exchange for a chocolate cake. Zane admired how realistic they were, with how sharp Kai’s jawline was in contrast to the softer edges of Jay and Nya’s, and how Wu’s hat was so detailed it seemed more like a photo than a drawing.

And then there was the portrait of Zane.

There were none of the curves in Jay and Nya’s portraits, instead only angles. Even his eyes, which Zane always viewed as the softest part of him, were harsh, the pencil lines pressed down so hard Zane wouldn’t be surprised if there were imprints on the other side of the paper. He wasn’t smiling, and the whole drawing was in black and white, unlike the others with colors splashed in.

It was probably as accurate as the other drawings, but Zane couldn’t help but feel a disconnect to it. Like he was looking at someone else’s picture, not his own. His heart ached, and his mind wanted to take the piece of paper and rip it apart and scream at Cole for making a drawing of him that was so wrong.

However, he did not tell Cole this, because he didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so he smiled weakly and said it was wonderful. The smile on his friend’s face barely soothed the ache in Zane’s heart.

—-----

As time went on, the ache in Zane’s heart grew worse and worse. The majority of days it was tolerable, but on some days it was so bad he could barely stand it.

On one such day, he was in such a state that nothing seemed to be real. He was lucky he did not injure himself while he was training, and he didn’t seem to make any large errors in socializing with the others.

When it came time to start dinner, Zane could not find his usual apron, a simple black and red one, but he did find a bright pink one that he thinks Jay got Nya for…something. Zane couldn’t honestly think of why he did it, for all he cared about was that his gi would not be at risk for getting dirty while he cooked with the apron.

Slipping on the apron, Zane felt…odd. The ache in his chest eased up just a bit, and he could breathe normally for the first time in what felt like hours. It was with a happy hum that he cooked dinner.

But when he went out, he learnt that no, boys do not wear pink, why are you wearing that, is that a joke, Zane? Zane could feel his humiliation build up and the ache come back, worse than before, as he watches his fellow ninja throw the food he made so carelessly.

After that, things seemed to go in a whirlwind. The ache stays all the time now, and Zane is left wondering where it came from.

Learning about his origins, and the fact that he did have a father, who loved his son very much, even if he was mechanical, should have made Zane feel better. Instead, it had the complete opposite effect on Zane, because he was sure that androids, sorry, nindroids, were supposed to be content to follow the programming that their creator gave them. At least, that seemed to be what Jay’s comics said.

But knowing he was supposed to be a boy made Zane feel…hollow. Why did he feel this way? He was to be a boy, so why did that idea make his skin crawl?

There was no room for such questions. So like he had so many times with things that hurt, like the lost memories and the cruel words, Zane ignored the issue. If he did not think about the issue, then he would never need to deal with it.

A perfect solution.

~~~~~~~~

Many months after Zane learnt the truth of himself, in New Ninjago City, in what would be the tallest building in Ninjago, another nindroid was being awoken in the workshop of Cyrus Borg.

Her name was Primary Interactive X-ternal Assistant Life-form, or P.I.X.A.L, or as her creator called her, Pixal.

Cyrus had built her a brilliant silver, and no detail was overlooked. She was average height for a female, and her clothing was a homage to the female rulers of the past, to remind them of all of those that came before them. Even her hair was amazing, with each strand a special blend of metals that made it flexible, yet able to hold a shape.

She was perfect. Cyrus had spared no expense for her build, and it showed.

Pixal was Cyrus’s sixteenth attempt at an assistant, and while she no longer had the issues of overheating like her predecessors, there still were issues with the artificial intelligence enhancer-emotion suppressor chip. Cyrus wasn’t sure how to fix this, however, so he simply left it as it was because quite honestly everything else seemed…perfect.

She was a dutiful assistant, as Cyrus programmed her, able to do anything he requires from her. Not that he asks for much, but it is nice to see her succeed. Like a parent might feel, he supposes.

The main issue is her lack of emotional understanding. She seemed to struggle with the idea of being her own being and not an object of Cyrus’s. But he can only be patient, and hope that the AIE-ES chip will soon be repaired so he can fix the issue.

After all, there was only one incident in which her lack of emotional depth caused any real issues, and that was quickly solved by some of the human employers.

Cyrus was sure everything will be fine.

~~~~

Zane wasn't sure what he was doing with himself when he found himself a teacher after the Overlord was defeated, and he and his brothers (for they were brothers now) were left powerless and Lloyd was gone.

He knew why Wu gave them the job of being teachers at his academy, despite none of them having any qualifications: he wanted them to have something to do, instead of wandering around aimlessly. Even if Wu said it was to have some extra help in preventing their students from getting into mischief, Zane knew better.

But being a teacher was not without its challenges. His students, former pupils of Darkley’s School for Bad Boys, were unwilling to listen to him when he taught. They couldn’t be reprimanded for long, for they did not fear the consequences. And he had no clue what he was doing, for a 6-week course was not enough to teach anyone, even an nindroid, how to be a teacher.

It did not help that being called “Mr. Zane,” made something in him hurt. He had no clue what it was, because all of his operating systems were functional, and none of his research or questions to his family could give him answers.

The ache reminded him of when he asked his father if he could modify Zane, because Zane was both terrified of having his memories removed and of having that longing in him for the rest of his life. But he only told his father of the fear of his memory being lost, because it was too hard to explain the odd feeling he felt.

But his father, the man he desperately hoped would understand, told Zane he was perfect. “I could never make you any better than you already are,” his father had said.

His father could not fix him, and he would not offer Zane any advice on how to fix himself, even on his deathbed. Zane never felt so helpless as he did when he heard his father take his last breath, on that hospital bed.

There was no time for grief, though. There never was. So Zane simply picked up the broken pieces and moved on, even if it felt like he was drowning in honey.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Meeting Zane was…odd for Pixal. He was just so human-like. He did not seem to mind being out of date, when Pixal knew if she ever got that outdated she would most likely be decommissioned.

She did not understand why she had scanned him, but she did feel…something in her system malfunction when she did. She could not understand what was the issue, so she made a note to investigate and do a diagnostic later on.

However, a diagnostic was unable to be completed, for she suddenly could not control any part of herself. She found herself moving along to the commands of the Overlord, who was somehow, against all logic, still there, and able to force Pixal to do his bidding.

Pixal could not stop herself from attacking the children, when logically she should never do unless entirely unavoidable. Logically, making copies of Zane for an army was bad, but nothing she did could stop her body from doing it. Making a body for the overlord was a terrible idea for the fate of ninjago, but she could only watch as Lloyd got his powers drained out of him.

Everytime she tried to go against the Overlord, she got the same error.

REQUEST DENIED. FOLLOW OBJECTIVE CHECKLIST.

If Pixal could feel, she would feel despair.

~~~~~

Zane wasn’t upset about being left behind at Garmadon’s monastery. He understood that the ninja needed someone to watch over the Techno Blades, and as the one who required the least amount of sleep, Zane volunteered for the job. But that did not mean that he was not lonely, all by himself.

He did not like being by himself with his thoughts. It let the voice inside of him, that whispered that being called a brother was wrong, grow too loud to ignore. And all Zane could do with that voice was ignore it.

In a weird way, he was grateful for the chance to fight something outside of his mind, even if he was annoyed that the nindroids ambushed him. Well, he was with most of them. Pixal he was glad to see, if only because she was so much like him.

When he used his technoblade on her, he did not expect to free her from the Overlord’s brainwashing, nor that the way to defeat the overlord was to use the technoblades to erase the Digiverse entirely. But he supposes that is just how life is when you are a ninja.

When they get onto a circus truck to get to the city, in order to avoid suspicion, Pixal offers to repair Zane. Zane sees no harm in letting her, even if he did not like being repaired. but quickly regrets that when she pokes at his heart. It hurt, but different from the ache he was used to. It didn’t feel wrong, it simply hurt. A blinding pain he wished to never feel again..

Pixal was apologetic, though, so Zane forgave her for it. He then tried to answer her question about why he was so different from others, but he had no satisfactory answer.

He was just different. Being different was something that Zane had gotten used to being.

However, being different did not make it any easier to hear Pixal tell him they were compatible as she powered off, nor did it make the guilt he felt go away at being the reason she powered off.

~~~~

Everything after receiving Zane’s power supply was a blur to Pixal. She somehow could feel so many more things she could have never imagined. She felt a connection with Zane, unlike any she had ever felt.

She also felt an odd sort of thing, that made her want to be Zane. She had chalked it up to having half his heart, which surely had unforeseen results.

But she felt…freer than she ever had when she was fighting with him. When the ninja called for Zane, she wished she was Zane. She felt more like Pixal when she was with Zane than without him.

(A part of her wondered if she wanted to be Zane, but that was preposterous. She was programmed to be Cyrus Borg’s female assistant, and not a piece of her code was to make her want to be a boy. It was simply illogical to feel this way.)

Her creator did not seem to understand what she meant, however, when she tried to explain what she was feeling. And it was not like she was able to explain any farther, with the nindroids coming in to attack.

What happened next would be something Pixal wishes she could save in her memories as low quality screenshots, rather than the high quality videos they were.

The ninja were sent to the digiverse. The Overlord almost defeats them. Wu tried to destroy the system. Her father was taken. The ninja were sent to space. The ninja came back.

But one moment she will keep in her memory files as clear as she could was Zane sacrificing himself.

He had grabbed onto the Overlord’s armor, and she knew that unless he let go of it, Zane would be dead. And he did not let go.

“Go, ninja, go!” Those were his final words. The words that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

For the first time ever, she had sobbed. Great, gulping tears that she could not stop, no matter how hard she tried. Because the one she was compatible with, the man she wished to be, was gone.

The funeral was locked under as many layers of security as Pixal could find. She never wanted to think of that again.

Pixal missed Zane.

~~~~~

When Zane made the decision to sacrifice himself, it was not entirely made out of pure selflessness.

Instead, he had done so partly because he wanted the constant ache in his soul to go away. He knew what would have happened if he did not let go of the overlord’s armour. He knew he would die.

Logically, he was aware of the fact that his family would miss him. If he had not made a backup of his consciousness on Borg’s computers, so he could rebuild himself from scratch after the deed was done, he might have hesitated.

But he did not need to hesitate. He would come back. Dying would not be a big deal because he would come back.

(One would say that one looks for what they can not have. Zane did not like to think of that quote. It hurt a bit too much, especially as time passed on.)

When he found himself existing only on Borg’s computers, he found himself overwhelmed with the choices he had for what his new body could look like. He decided that if he was going to rebuild his body, he would do it right.

While some might say he should have left his body just as it was, Zane could not help but wish that it was more like Pixal’s body.

It was odd to think this, he knew, because boys do not want to look like a girl, but he could not help but want to look like Pixal. So he took a look at the prototypes for her, and the designs for the evil nindroids, picking and choosing what he wanted.

The time he spent in the modelling app was…informative. It allowed Zane to design his body to what exactly felt right to have.

In the end, it ended up being softer, smaller in a way. Where his hair was ramrod straight in a way, he let it have a curlier nature to it, similar to Cole and Jay’s. His shoulders were no longer as pointed, nor were they as broad. His feet were a bit more narrow, with soft curves. His hands were long and elegant, like piano players were.

Zane wanted to be soft for once. Not cold or calculating. He was still a man, just…a bit more soft.

(A part of him wanted to be soft like a girl but that was preposterous. Zane was a man. That was what he was made to be.)

When he sensed Pixal in the mainframe, he did the only thing he could think of: call out to her and start the manufacturing process, even if everything was not perfect.

“We're all different, but I don't feel so different around you.” Those words rang out true in Zane’s chassis as he spoke them through the computer speakers. He did not feel like an outsider with Pixal, but rather felt a kinship with her, most likely because of their shared experience of being nindroids.

“You are vital to me.” Without Pixal’s designs, Zane would not have known what to do with his own rebuilding and remodelling. She also gave him hope that someone out there was like him. She was the one he looked at and went, “I want to be your friend, because you look friend shaped.”

He smiled when he saw Pixal had run into the factory, and asked, “Are we compatible now?” because that was what she had told him, and before he had doubted that because she had claimed he was out of date. But now not only was he going to be up to date, he was going to no longer ache as much.

But just as the machines started to build him up, Zane felt someone overtake the systems. He could feel someone add weapons to his body, add systems he did not want to have, take away the modifications he had made and put his old body frame back.

He tried to scream, but before he could make a sound, he felt himself shut off.

The last thing he saw was Pixal, screaming and fighting as hard as she could. But with half of Zane’s heart, she could not fight as well as she could with him.

~~~~~~~

Pixal did not like to dwell on the circumstances that had led to her being uploaded to a computer in a dingy dungeon, her dismantled body just in view. She was sure if she thought about it too hard, she would end up giving herself a virus or whatever the nindroid equivalent was for a human migraine.

But she could not deny the facts: A man that her systems told her was named Ronin, had dismantled her and took her to an island along with Zane, where he seemed to be dazed and confused. There were very few moments of awareness from him, and Pixal was very sure he had lost all of his memories.

She had heard his screams as a monster, Chen she heard was his name, took his elemental power. She was not even aware that Zane still possessed it, but he did, or at least Chen thought he did.

Pixal did not hate very easily, but she thinks she could make an exception for the monster that was Chen.

The guards had talked about using Zane as bait to make the ninja come to the island, in an attempt to also steal their elemental powers. For what, none knew but Pixal knew that the ninja would come to save Zane and none of them could have any idea of what Chen was doing.

The computer did not have any sort of clock, and there was no real sign of time changing aside from the guard shifts, but 21 guard shifts later, Zane started to whimper. Pixal called out to him, wondering what was going on and risking her existence to comfort Zane, who, if she could love anyone besides her creator, she would love Zane.

Zane had quietly whispered that it was just a dream. Pixal had always wondered what it was like to dream, but when she had remarked this aloud to Zane, he did not know who it was speaking.

If Pixal had a heart, mechanical or bloody, she would have sobbed. He did not remember who she was. Zane did not remember who his family was, or that he was the elemental master of ice.

But then he asked if Pixal and him were compatible, and Pixal could have sobbed, but instead she just replied, ”Yes, Zane. Yes, we are.”

Eventually, she managed to get through Zane’s head that he needed to free himself, and together, with her limited knowledge of what exactly Zane was doing, they started to work together to get Zane out.

Although, admittedly, she did not expect for Zane to have a saw now. She did not recall that as part of his original design, so it must be a new addition from when he rebuilt himself.

When he eventually got into Pixal’s cell, she wished she could take away his hurt. She knew how much it must have hurt to see her like this, as scrapped parts, only her hard drive functional. It hurt seeing herself like this, but she had made acceptance.

That is why she told Zane to go on without her. With her, Zane would be slowed down significantly. He would not reach his goal if he was focused on her. Logical dictated-

Or Zane could just…put her hard drive in his neural drive, and input her into his hard processor. That also worked. An ingenious move by him, but Pixal did not expect anything less from the one whose heart she also shared.

She had access to every system Zane had, and she had no doubt she could be of much help as she was pretty sure he had no clue what he was doing with it-

Something poked them in the back. A taser. The body was powered off.

~~~~~~~~~~

Zane had to admit, having Pixal in his head definitely took some adjusting. Not because it was an unpleasant change, but because he had never had to share a headspace with someone before. Although he doubted many others can say they have had to do the same, so he will cut himself some slack this time.

One upside to sharing a mind, however, was the fact that Pixal was incredibly helpful in helping him out with navigating his new body. If it was not for her, he would not have known that he even had explosive shurikens! Pixal really was amazing.

And she was much smarter than Zane, which he greatly appreciated. He usually listened to her ideas, because when he didn’t…

Well, he found himself on the ground of a cave.

“Perhaps I should have listened to you,” Zane groaned as he pushed himself up, trying to regain his bearings.

Pixal huffed. “Perhaps is an understatement.”

Zane would have responded with a snarky reply, but suddenly he sees the Titanium Dragon. The one from his nightmares. The one that had been his thoughts since he woke up.

Someone was talking to him. Pixal was talking to him, but Zane couldn’t hear her, instead feeling his breath quicken. It was going to eat his head, and he couldn’t stop it! No amount of ice made it go away. No amount of cold made it back off.

He didn’t want to die. He had died, and while he might not have regretted doing it in the moment, he had caused a rift in his family and made everyone upset with him. and he was still in the wrong body, and he isn’t Zane that died but a new one, a fake one.

“You used to have a dragon,” Pixal told him, but Znae didn’t remember that. He didn’t remember anything of his past. Nothing that happened to the old Zane affected him because he didn’t remember it. He was just a replica.

And Zane was so so so afraid. The original Zane would never be this scared.

Pixal was talking again. Zane had to focus so hard on what she was saying. “Close your eyes,” she commanded, and Zane didn’t understand why she asked him to do that but he did.

The ice dragon was so loud, even when Zane couldn’t see it. Pixal asked him what else could Zane hear, and all Zane could hear was his thoughts telling him that he isn’t the white ninja, because the white ninja never felt this out of place in his own skin, never wanted to rip it off, never wanted to be something completely different-

“Who are you then?” Pixal’s voice, calm despite the franticness Zane knew she was feeling, broke through his thoughts.

It took more effort than Zane wanted to admit, but he eventually was able to choke out, “I am…the titanium ninja.” That didn’t encompass everything he was now, but he could barely care about how accurate his words were when he heard the fierce roars stop.

The dragon wasn’t…the dragon was not real. Zane opened his eyes slowly, hopeful that the monster that haunted his nightmares was gone.

Instead of a fierce dragon, roaring and making something in Zane ache, there was a sleepy dragon, curled up and purring. He had a vague memory of a dragon in his past named Shard that this was very similar to.

Gently petting it, Zane whispered, “And you are not here.”

“Anxiety levels are going down,” Pixal announced, but there was still franticness in her. “But your elemental reactor levels are going up-”

Before Zane could hear the end of her sentence, Zane felt a cold feeling encompass him. Unlike when he died, however, this was like coming home. Like this was who he was meant to be.

When the feeling faded, Zane could form a dragon.

~~~~

Being in Zane’s brain took some getting used to. It was similar to being a computer, Pixal thought, only she couldn’t seamlessly take control of Zane at any given moment. Instead, she had to go around his coding if she wanted to do such a thing…

Not that she would ever do that without his permission, but Pixal would have liked to have that option available sometimes. Especially when Zane was being especially idiotic.

Something that Pixal enjoyed about being in Zane’s brain, however, was simply the sensation of being in Zane’s body. While Pixal may not have any control over it, she could sense everything that his body did. And she will admit, she found a particular sense of peace in Zane’s body.

It wasn’t how the others treated him, or how he had ice powers, or anything like that. No, she found peace in other ways, like in the sharpness in his jaw, or the way he had large hands or in his broad shoulders with a flat chest or his height.

The things that defined him as a man. The things that made one look at Zane and go, “yes that is a man.”

Pixal knew that there was nothing wrong with being a woman. She is one, for gods sake! She just…appreciates the things about Zane’s body that make him look like a man.

It is a persistent thought, but she ignores it most of the time. Pixal does not have time to deal with this, and besides she is more useful being an assistant to Zane in his head, and if she gets too caught in her thoughts, she can not be as helpful to Zane.

Another thing Pixal likes, though, is being able to talk to Zane as much as she wants to, within reason. She knows it is silly, and illogical, but talking to Zane is just so interesting. He sees the world the same way she does, quite literally, and they tend to have very fascinating conversations.

Their conversations can range from why they were created to how similar they are to large language models to why AdBlock restrictions are irritating.

One day, after Jay had suddenly declared a ban on saying “I wish,” Pixal and Zane had a conversation that was probably the most deep and most meaningful out of them all.

“If you could have three wishes granted, what would you wish for?” Zane asked as he cooked dinner.

“What do you mean? And you forgot the salt,” Pixal replied, trying to figure out if Zane had forgotten anything else. Her boyfriend was prone to doing such silly things like that.

Zane put the salt in. “Thank you, and what I meant is if you were given three wishes, but you couldn’t wish for love or more wishes, what would you wish for?”

Before Pixal could properly formulate a response, she was responding. “I would wish to look like you.”

The spoon in Zane’s hand clattered to the ground. “I beg your pardon?”

“Then beg,” Pixal quipped back, before pausing, contemplating what she should say.

Should she tell Zane the truth? Tell him the rightness she had felt in his body? Tell him how it felt so so so good to be in his body? How, while her old chassis didn’t feel wrong, it wasn’t right?

After running 21 “if-then” scenarios, Pixal concluded the best course of action would be for her to inform Zane of this after dinner. “I will discuss this with you after dinner, if you wish. But for now, please keep an eye on your cooking. You’re gonna over cook the rice.”

Hurrying to remedy the error, Zane whispered, “I will be talking with you about this. I wish to understand what you mean.”

And that was why Pixal loved Zane so much. While many others would have left it after the first sentence, Zane clarified his intent behind his actions, rather than letting anything linger. Pixal appreciated the good communication immensely.

During dinner, Pixal noticed Zane was quieter than usual, only talking about 7% of the time rather than the usual 39%, but none of the other ninja seemed to notice, too focused on making fun of Kai’s latest piece of fan mail for some reason Pixal was too distracted to figure out.

After 34 minutes, dinner was complete and the kitchen was cleaned, and the rest of the ninja went off in their own direction to relax after dinner. Except Zane and Pixal.

When Zane laid down in his bed, Pixal was tempted to shut him off, simply so this conversation would not happen now. But eventually it would, and delaying the inevitable was illogical.

“Pixal?”

“Yes Zane?”

“What do you mean when you said you wished to have my body? Was there something wrong with yours?”

Pixal loved Zane so much. Sometimes Pixal wondered if he ever had a thing called tact, with how bluntly he asked questions sometimes.

But a question he did ask, so a response he earned. “...there was nothing wrong with my old body.”

“Then why do you want my body?” Zane’s voice was glitching, the numerous logical scenarios he was running overwhelming his systems. Pixal hated when he did that, since it made it so his systems run slower, making her slower. But this time was one where an exception could be made.

It took Pixal a while to figure out what exactly was the correct thing to say here, but Zane was patient, as always. Even when he was dying to know the answer to his question.

“...I suppose the easiest way to put it is that it feels…right to be in your body. Not to say that mine is bad but…” Pixal couldn’t explain more. There was more she could say, but there were no words she could find to explain.

Thankfully, Zane did not push. “I understand. I…If I were to make a body for you, would you like it to be based on my current design?”

“Yes.” Pixal had never been so sure of anything in her (his) entire life before. “I would like that a lot.”

Zane hummed in thought. “Thank you for informing me. Now, I believe it is time for us to rest, don’t you?”

As much as Pixal wanted to protest, to keep talking to Zane, the need for a cache cleaning was becoming too much to ignore. The numerous scenarios Pixal had performed made her (his) system laggy, and Zane was surely in a similar state.

So together the two nindroids powered off for the night, not thinking much of the conversation that had just occurred.

—-----------

Over the next few weeks, Pixal couldn’t get that conversation out of her (his) head. It was like a bug had infested her programming, preventing her from doing anything productive because all she could think about was this stupid bug.

Because no matter what she tried, she could not get the idea of Pixal being a man out of her mind. She knew it was ridiculous, that Cyrus Borg designed a daughter, that Pixal was Zane’s girlfriend, but…

The idea of having a male body, of being referred to as mister and sir? All the things that people associated with masculinity being associated with Pixal?

Something in Pixal wanted that. So Pixal did research. A lot of research.

And…Pixal realized that others felt this way. Guys who were trapped in a girl's body. Woman in a man’s body. And so, so so many more.

Pixal was a boy. And he didn’t want his old body back.

It was hard to not tell Zane all of this, all of what Pixal had discovered. But Pixal had run 42 “if-then” scenarios, and if Zane did not take this well, the chances of Pixal being left on her own devices, inside a computer, so he would not change so drastically, were too high for him to risk.

So he kept quiet about what he had discovered, and his desires for a body of his own. The conversation was deleted from Zane’s memory drives, so he did not ask anything more about it from Pixal. And Pixal tried to keep his desires hidden, ignoring them as much as he could.

He was more useful in Zane, anyway. THis was for the best.

Until one day, he was not.

—-----

Not being able to inform Nya that she needed to realign Zane’s neural inputs, not give him a new binary power core, made Pixal feel…useless. Sure, he could figure out what was wrong with Zane, but not being able to communicate it with anyone besides Zane was frustrating. He often had what he thought were excellent ideas, but unless Zane deigned to inform the others about them, or follow through with them, no one knew about them. And if no one knew his ideas, then Pixal was as good as useless to the ninja.

There was only one true solution to this predicament: Pixal must build himself a brand new body, one with better combat experience than his old one, so he can be as useful to the ninja as possible.

And if it gave Pixal the chance to have a body that was right, according to the image he had created in his processor? Well…that was Pixal’s secret to keep.

Hacking into Cyrus’s computers was simple. Startlingly so. Pixal made a note to inform Cyrus of this after he had completed what needed to be done.

It was honestly so simple to rebuild his body. Pixal had spent hours fantasizing about creating a body that was exactly to his liking, with combat capabilities and a masculine appearing figure based on Zane’s design. All Pixal had to do was recreate the image in the modeling program, and hit the start button on the machines to initiate the building process.

Uploading his hard drive info was a bit more challenging, due to him falling behind on uploading it to the cloud network that Borg utilized for all projects, but eventually Pixal managed to upload all necessary data to a spare hard drive. He triple checked that he had all memories on it, for he did not want to end up like Zane, with memories that he didn’t remember, only heard about.

When all was complete, it was time to disconnect himself from Zane’s systems. It was both somehow terrifying, bizarre and freeing all at once. No longer did Pixal have the sound of Zane’s thoughts in the back of his mind, able to be tuned into if Pixal truly wished to. No longer did Pixal have knowledge of everything Zane did or could do at his fingertips. No longer did Pixal feel stuck in a body that was not his in any way.

Instead, Pixal could insert his hard drive into his new chassis, and reboot himself. The process was rather slow, taking 4 minutes and 32 seconds, as to be expected for a hard drive that had large amounts of data on it that had to be preserved, and for a brand new chassis that needed to have all systems a-go.

But then, the moment he had been waiting for so long finally happened.

Pixal opened up his eyes, and took in the assembly room properly, not through a camera or Zane’s eyes, but his own. He flexed his fingers, strong and big, perfect for attacking others or inventing things. He flipped his hair, still long like in his old design for he didn’t want to look too similar to Zane. It was styled differently, now with most of it hanging down with only a few layers pulled back to keep them out of his face. He ran his hands over his armor, glad that the printing and the materials came out just as he had designed.

The nindroid just sat there, admiring his new body. It was sleek, elegant, and cool. And it was right. Every detail Pixal had designed felt right. There was no odd feeling anymore, like something was off. There was no need to tear off his plating because surely something must be wrong for it to feel this bad.

As Pixal sat there, an ugly thought arose in his head: What would Zane think?

Would he be thrilled? Glad that his once-girlfriend found peace in his body? Or would Zane be enraged? Upset that Pixal did such a thing behind his back, and wanted to be a fighter?

Even though Pixal’s heart wanted it to be the former, the logical scenarios he was running pointed towards the latter as the most likely scenario.

Zane would be furious if he heard what Pixal did. That was what would happen if he found out.

So Pixal simply just had to ensure he didn’t find out. Only how…

Suddenly an idea came to him, that was so stupid it might just work! Be Samurai X!

It worked for Nya, from what Pixal could gleam from Zane’s memories! It would surely work for Pixal as well, right?

With that plan in mind, Pixal made his way to the Samurai X cave, which hadn’t changed locations since the last time Zane went there, when he needed a few upgrades.

Putting on the Samurai X armour, Pixal felt like this plan would work out hopefully. Zane would get over him not being in his head. And when the idea of Zane rejecting Pixal was easier to swallow, Pixal would tell him.

~~~~~~

It has been over a year without Pixal, and Master Wu. A very long year.

Zane wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing with himself, if he was to be completely honest. He knew, logically, he was helping, running all the algorithms and making sure that the others had the supplies they needed.

But a part of him was missing. Pixal had been in his head for so long, ever since he came back in a body that every day felt more and more distant from his mental image of him, and her suddenly not being in it…

Something in Zane was broken. Not physically (he checked), nor was his software broken, but something in his heart was broken. He could barely function at first, when he realized Pixal was gone for good. Zane was able to run the systems she did, was able to do everything she could himself, but it felt wrong.

Pixal and him were a team.

Why did that have to change?

It was so hard to muster up the energy to continue on at first, but it slowly became easier to get through the days without feeling like the world was drowning Zane. The feeling of grief was not one Zane was unfamiliar with. He had experienced it with his father.

Back then, he had already mourned his father once, and he had the rest of his family all around him, and he had his students to worry about. Now, he was missing the man who had been like a father when his own could not be one, and the others did not understand the impact of Pixal’s passing like he did, having assumed for a long time that she had always been gone in a way, because they couldn’t interact with her like he did.

Anger filled Zane at the idea of him being the only one mourning Pixal, but Zane could not allow it to consume himself. If he did, then it just made all of Zane’s own flaws much more obvious, and he could barely think about himself without blue screening (literally).

The only thing that seemed to help was Jay’s idea to give Zane a hologram projector, so he could change his appearance. While Zane did not require such a thing, he did see the benefits to having it. He could assume a human appearance, and he could disguise himself as other nindroids.

Other nindroids such as Pixal…

It was wrong for him to do so. He knew it was wrong. But one night, when he was camping out in a cave, on his way to a temple that might have some answer as to where Wu was, he activated the hologram program and turned on his selfie camera on his phone.

Pixal’s face stared back at him. It was just as Zane remembered, bright white with purple circuits, and a long silver ponytail. Her dark purple tunic was draped across his chest, also a brilliant white. Looking at the face, Pixal’s green eyes stared back.

A sense of euphoria bloomed in Zane’s heart. It wasn’t him, no, but for some reason, in a hologram of his dead girlfriend, Zane felt like he was looking right for the first time in a long time.

He brought up a hand to run through his hair, but the hand just went through the ponytail. The holographic ponytail.

The illusion was dropped almost immediately after that. A sense of shame flooded Zane. What was he thinking? Why did he think that would fix anything?

He would never be Pixal. He was Zane, the master of Ice. A wonderful man, one that most would be glad to call a friend.

Zane didn’t sleep well that night, or for many nights after. The feeling of delight he had felt looking like Pixal haunted his dreams and memories for days, weeks, with no end in sight.

~~~~~~~~~~

That day, Zane and Nya were doing a routine check up on the Bounty’s computer system. The others had noticed a slow down in the system, requiring Nya and Zane to go through and figure out what issue had arisen exactly.

“It doesn’t seem that anyone downloaded any suspect files…” Nya muttered, pulling up yet another antivirus program. “Are there any background programs running that we didn’t check yet?”

“There doesn’t seem to be…” Zane sighed, before frowning at a programs’ name. SXCOMPXB “Nya, do you recognize this?”

Nya leant over, and shook her head. “Never seen it. Maybe that’s what has been slowing this down? Open it.”

Nodding, Zane opened the suspicious file. Was that against what every single technician recommended for internet security? Yes, but when did the ninja listen to common sense?

Never. Even when it was to their detriment, Zane suspected that they would rather burn along with the world than actually listen to advice from anyone besides Sensei-

Shaking his head before his mind could continue on that train of thought. Zane opened the file.

His processor froze when it finally opened. Pixal’s face was staring back at him, just like it was when she was in his head.

“Pixal…” Zane whispered, reverently. He didn’t expect a response. It would be foolish for him to. That didn't mean he did not wish for one, however.

And to his great shock, a voice that was not Nya’s responded. It was Pixal’s. “Z-Zane,” she whispered, a smile forming on her face. “I-I didn’t expect-”

Nya came closer to Zane, staring up at the screen with a scrutinizing glare. “What are you doing? I thought you were lost.”

Pixal blinked before shaking her head. “No, I…I must have uploaded my consciousness onto a computer and the Bounty’s computers must have found them and copied them onto its systems.”

It sounded bizarre but…Zane had heard odder. And besides, the logistics didn’t matter to Zane as much as the fact that Pixal was here again. That he could hear her voice. See her face.

After much talking, Nya, Zane and Pixal came to the conclusion Pixal would stay in the Bounty’s computer, and would be an ally to the ninja. Zane was overjoyed.

He would never require her assistance, but if she wanted to help, he would support her choices. And besides, now he knew she wanted to stay.

“I am glad you are back, Pixal,” he hummed.

Pixal had a smile on her face, but it seemed…off. But it might just be the graphics looking different on the Bounty’s computer screen than in Zane’s HUD. “I am glad to see you too.”

~~~~~~~~

There was honestly no intention on Pixal’s end to come out to Zane as a man. He had his doubts before, but connecting to the Bounty’s systems, and seeing Zane’s face light up at the idea of Pixal as an assistant….

Znae would never accept him. Would never see Pixal as a man.

So Pixal was content enough to stay hidden away, spending more and more time as Samurai X, protecting those who could not protect themselves.

But then his system got hacked. A foreign entity was introduced to it via Zane and….

Pixal felt so helpless, being unable to fight back against the intruder that was inside of him. Felt violated, like someone had exposed everything about Pixal to someone he had never even met before. Had never even heard of before.

All Pixal could do was connect to the Samurai X mech and start flying it towards the bounty, and in doing so, that made everything fall apart around her.

“Samurai X is approaching,” Pixal announced, dread filling up.

Cole nodded. “He must be here to help us!”

If Pixal could swallow, he would out of sheer anxiety. “I am afraid that is unlikely.”

“What? Why?”

“Because my system is overrun.”

Kai hit the table. “You’re making no sense, Pixal. What are you talking about?”

“This would be a good time to make a minor confession.” Pixal glitched, but he hopes his confession got through.

“I am Samurai X.”

There was pandemonium for only a few moments, before all of a sudden, Pixal was unable to control the Samurai X mech. Instead, he was fighting against his friends, and he could do nothing.

It hurt, hearing his friends cry out that Pixal was betraying them, and to hear them call him “she.” There was no time to dwell on that, however. Pixal had to reboot the system to purge the foreign agent before he caused serious damage.

But Pixal was not successful. The reboot was too late. The sword still hit the thruster.

Despite the ninja’s many efforts, they still crash landed. It might have been less damaged than if Nya had not attempted to control the rain, but Pixal didn’t need to be connected to the computer to know that the ship was badly damaged.

As everyone caught their breaths, Pixal made a split second decision. He pulled on his helmet, revealing his new facial features to the ninja for the first time.

“Zane,” he called out, his voice low like it never was when he was in the computer.

Zane turned around in an instant, staring. “Pixal? Is that actually?”

Nodding, Pixal forced himself to keep his eyes locked with Zane’s as Zane came closer. “It is me, Pixal, yes.”

A cold hand grabbed his arm. “What…why do you look different?” he whispered, looking at Pixal, voice glitching from something besides damage.

Before Pixal could respond, Kai yelled, “What about Lloyd and Harumi?”

The ninja and Pixal all froze. The two youngest were still missing. No one knew if they were even still alive.

Zane and Pixal locked eyes and nodded, coming to the same conclusion. There would be time for explanations from Pixal later.

Now was the time for searching.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zane wasn’t sure what to do about the fact that Pixal wasn’t dead apparently, and had rebuilt a body without informing Zane at all.

On one hand, he was happy! He had missed Pixal desperately, and it was nice to have her back!

On the other hand, it was odd to see Pixal so different. Her voice was much lower now, and her body was designed in a way that reminded Zane of his own, or the nindroids from so long ago that worked with the Overlord.

Perhaps she had simply uploaded her consciousness to one of the remaining chassis that were not used for security bots? That would explain the more masculine appearance and voice, even if it didn’t account for the hair.

But those thoughts were pushed to the side, as the two had to first search the surrounding areas of the Bounty for Lloyd and Harumi. Nothing came up, but Pixal was hesitant to allow the others to wander far in the dense jungle, at least without comlinks.

The ninja then had to try to repair the thruster, but it was clear that would be a lengthy endeavor, even if Jay’s reactions were humorous…or maybe Zane’s funny switch was on too high again.

Seeing Pixal’s body relax at the sight of the Samurai X’s mech made the tightness in Zane’s chest relax a bit. Pixal was going to be fine, hopefully.

Hearing that Lloyd and Harumi were alive was an even bigger relief.

The two pieces of good news made the others much more motivated to work on the thrusters, and with Nya there to turn the thrusters on and off, Zane and Pixal could go work on the computer.

Unfortunately, there was not much success with that. No matter what they tried, the computer would not turn on.

“Try now.”

“No.”

“And now.”

“No.”

Pixal’s voice was tinged with frustration, her responses clipped, making Zane frown. “I detect frustration from you, yet that emotion is not needed for this task. Is something wrong?” he asked, hoping to not set Pixal off even more.

Pixal sputtered. “No!” She then looked away, crossing her arms. “Yes!” Eventually, she turned to look back at Zane. “Zane, may I ask you something?”

Zane’s response was automatic, if inaccurate. “You have half my heart. You can ask me anything.” Technically, Pixal did not have his heart, if the hazy memories of Chen’s island were anything to go by, but Zane hoped she figured the sentiment nonetheless.

Pixal gripped the controls to the computer. “Are you upset with me for building a new body?”

“What-No! Pixal, where did you get that idea-”

“You seem upset when you look at me. Was I that much more useful in the computer?” Pixal questioned, desperation evident in her voice.

Zane walked around the computer and grabbed her arm, forcing Pixal to face him. “I…I did not expect you to reuse an old chassis, that is true, but I would never force you to be something that you do not want to be. You did not like being in my head, right?”

“I did not, you are right.” Pixal tilted her head. “What do you mean by an old chassis? I designed this myself.”

Now it was Zane’s turn to be confused. “Well, I know your old body was destroyed, and if you had rebuilt it, I would assume it would be just like your old one, so surely this is just an old-”

“I designed this body to be what I want it to be.”

If Zane could breathe, the wind would have been knocked out of him. “What do you mean?”

Pixal hummed. “I feel…better in this body. I did not like being in my old body, and being in your head…the main reason I tolerated it for so long was because it felt right in a way mine never had. And when I saw an opportunity to create my own…I designed it after yours.”

All of a sudden, a memory that had been deleted resurfaced. Zane and Pixal talking about what would Pixal wish for if Pixal could wish for anything. Pixal saying that Pixal would wish for Zane’s body.

“...I suppose the easiest way to put it is that it feels…right to be in your body. Not to say that mine is bad but…”

“Zane?”

Zane jerked out of his thoughts, and stared at Pixal, realization growing. “Your new body…does it feel right?”

Pixal nodded. “It does. It feels so right.”

“Then I am happy for you.” Zane tucked a piece of synthetic hair behind Pixal’s ear. “Anything else you wish to tell me?” he asked, half joking.

Pixal bit her lip but nodded. “I…You do not have a girlfriend anymore, but rather a boyfriend.”

Zane blinked. “What do you mean?”

“The reason this body feels so much more right is because…I am a man.” Pixal’s voice was quiet, but her words left no room for argument.

Smiling, Zane hugged Pixal as tightly as he could, tighter than he would for any human. “Well, I am glad that I still have a boyfriend. I was worried you were breaking up with me for a second.”

Pixal snorted, pushing away. “Well, you might not have one if we don’t figure out what is wrong with this computer.”

Nodding, Zane went back to his place on the other side, pulling on different wires. “Now?”

“Still no.”

Sighing, Zane went back to trying to figure out what was wrong. He ignored the funny feeling in his heart.

He didn’t want to change like Pixal. He couldn’t.

~~~~~~~

Pixal couldn’t believe how everything changed so fast.

It sometimes felt like just the day before he was still stuck in Zane’s head, stuck as his girlfriend.

But then he was out of Zane’s mind, by his own violation, and he was fighting as Samurai X. He helped the ninja take down the Sons of Garmadon, had fought with the Resistance, and even faced the terrifying Oni.

Honestly, if it weren't for the fact that Pixal had checked five times, he would have assumed his memory banks were damaged somehow, if only for how absurd everything seemed.

(Sometimes, he wished he could, if only to erase some of the reactions he had received after telling people the truth about his identity. Most of them were positive but a few made Pixal shiver from something besides the cold.)

Ninjago seemed at peace for once. No major crimes were being committed, and the ninja were rarely called out by the police to help with arrests.

But then came Aspheera.

Honestly, if Pixal could have, he would have never allowed the ninja to go on such a foolish quest. They should have realized that would end up in disaster.

However, the ninja were so desperate for something to do and it was supposed to be a simple sort of adventure. Not one that ended up with a Serpentine being released from a prison with a vendetta against Wu.

Pixal wished that it just ended with the city destroyed. Wishes rarely came true.

They thought Zane had died. Thought he was gone for good this time. No consciousness was left behind for them to rebuild a body. Not even a wire was left for them to remember him by.

Zane was just…gone.

Or so they thought.

As they quickly learned, Zane was not dead. He was just…in a realm that was so dangerous the First Spinjitzu Master was afraid of it.

No big deal. (That was sarcastic. It was a very big deal.)

Pixal sometimes wished he had gone with the ninja to the Never-Realm. However, he knew that it was probably for the best of Ninjago that he did not go. The multiple crimes he had to stop as Samurai X proved that leaving the realm undefended except by Wu would have been a bad idea.

But it was…startling to see Zane so off. He still smiled and sat with him to do their routine repairs, but there was a distance between them now. A distance formed by the sixty years he spent alone in a realm of ice and cold, as the cruel ruler who forced the subjects into an endless winter.

There were many changes to Zane now, caused by that experience.

Zane would wake up with horrific nightmares, and Pixal would spend hours trying to soothe him, often until the sun had risen.

Ice formed around his feet, either gentle swirls when he was happy or jagged edges when he was furious.

He could barely stand any sort of heat, and would snap at Kai whenever he sparked up even a little bit.

Instead of using his trusty bow and arrows, Zane had switched to a staff. The way he fought with it was both mesmerizing to watch and terrifying to be at the other end of.

Even the ninja seemed distrustful of Zane, referring to Zane as just a teammate and not as their brother, and treating him like he would break at any moment.

There was a desperate hope in Pixal that things weren’t as dire as they seemed. That things had not changed so much that they were not compatible anymore.

He had both dreaded and was relieved when it came to a routine file cleaning. Him and Zane had made it a monthly date night of sorts, sitting in the workshop and going through the memories they had stored for those that they had deemed significant. The ones that would just come back if they hid them for forever.

(They had both learnt that lesson the hard way with the Overlord Virus that had almost destroyed Zane, formed by Zane blocking out the memory of his death so deep inside of him.)

But neither of them were looking forward to this date night. Tonight, Zane and Pixal would have to go through over 60 years of memories of a real life horror show, to determine what atrocities must be retained and what Zane could get rid of.

Zane was nervous when they hooked him up, leaning back in the squishy office chair as per usual. Pixal gave him a smile, and held his hand. “It will feel so much better when you get rid of those memories. I promise.”

Swallowing, Zane nodded. “I hope you are correct.”

“Shall we get started then?”

“Okay.” The response was not loud or enthusiastic, but it was consent from Zane for Pixal to dig through the memories of the Never-Realm.

If Pixal was human, his hands would be trembling from nerves. As it was, his hands were steady as he tapped on the keys, opening the software to examine the memories.

The first memory he booted up was one of Zane with a mech, in a cave. A man was there as well.

“That is Vex,” Zane whispered, clenching his fists.

Nodding, Pixal turned back to the memory showing, hoping a clinical approach would make this much easier.

“Oh, such a pity. You truly have forgotten. You're unwell, my Lord, but do not fear. I will take care of you. It is my sworn duty.” Something about Vex’s words made Pixal want to throw something, but he refrained. Calmness would make this much less painful.

“Your duty?”

“You are the Ice Emperor, the ruler of this realm.”

“I am?”

“Of course. Why look.” Vex handed the Scroll Of Forbidden Spinjitzu to Zane. “Here is your scepter.”

Zane looked at the scroll, before turning to Vex with a frown. “But I am not a man.”

Pixal blinked at the revelation, wondering what Zane could have meant. He turned to Zane to ask, but before he could, Vex was speaking again.

“What do you mean, My Emperor?”

Levelling Vex with an unimpressed look, Zane toyed with the staff. “I am not a man. I am…a woman. And thus I am the Ice Empress, Vex.”

The screen was turned off suddenly, and a sob came from behind Pixal. Pixal whipped around, coming face to face with Zane sobbing quietly, ice forming around him. Her?

Footsteps quiet, Pixal approached Zane and cupped Zane’s cheek. “Zane? What is wrong?”

All he got for a response was incoherent sobbing, so Pixal decided to just climb onto Zane’s lap and hug Zane until Zane felt better.

After eleven minutes and forty three seconds, Zane finally choked out,“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

Sniffling, Zane squeezed his eyes shut. “F-for lying. I-I know I should have told you I pretended to be a woman in the Never-Realm, but I was scared.” Zane’s voice was glitching, presumably from how upset Zane was.

Well, that would simply not do. Pixal cupped Zane’s chin, forcing Zane to look up at him, in the eye. “What were you scared of?”

“That you would leave,” Zane whispered.

Pixal softened and hugged Zane again. “Well, that was illogical. Why would you being a woman make me leave?”

Wrong thing to say. Zane tensed up in his arms. “I do not want to be a woman.”

“So that whole-”

“I do not…” Zane took a deep breath. “I do not understand fully why I did what I did but…I do not want there to be even more changes. The others…they just assume my memory was so damaged I did not realize I was a man, or that Vex made me pretend I was a woman for reasons unknown.”

Rubbing his thumb over Zane’s cheek, wiping away tears, Pixal hummed in thought. He was pretty sure Zane did want to be a woman but…

Pixal remembered how hard it was to fully accept himself as a man. How he had battled it out in his head for months. While he could simply…force Zane to accept herself, it would most likely do more harm than good.

So instead, Pixal just petted Zane’s head. “If you wish, we do not have to f-”

“I want to finish.” Zane sighed. “I have a feeling if I do not tonight, I will end up deleting everything and hurting myself.”

Nodding, Pixal scooted off Zane’s lap and booted up the computer once again. “Okay.”

That night, after watching decades of loneliness and violence and destruction, Pixal slipped into Zane’s bed and laid with her throughout the night, soothing her after the inevitable nightmare.

The experience was bad but it did bring one good thing.

Zane, for some reason, started to be okay with heat and fire again. Kai was overjoyed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Showing Pixal the memories of the Never-Realm was…bad. Zane was sure there were better words to describe it, but she did not want to think of them.

Another thing she did not like thinking of? The fact that the way she figured out what that weird feeling she had been plagued for the entirety of her existence was by becoming a genocidal empress.

Of course, Zane was not going to tell anyone that she was a woman. It was too risky, and besides the others were already wary enough of her as it was after the Never-Realm.

So Zane kept it hidden, never revealing anything to anyone. Not even Pixal, her beloved boyfriend. But in secret…

It was a dirty little secret, in a way. One that Zane tried so hard to keep concealed.

Late nights became research time, where Zane delved into the intricacies of the transgender experience, reading story after story of other women who felt like she did, and were accepted.

Upon learning that some transgender people burnt things that reminded them of their past negatively, Zane gathered anything that made her think of dark and sad memories of her past and set them all to fire.

It should have terrified her, the flames growing larger than her. But she just watched with a small smile at the past going up in flames.

If anyone were to ask, she was just getting rid of some old junk. Not that anyone did ask, but if they did, she would say that. All anyone did was show surprise that she was okay with fire once again, after being so vehemently against it.

Zane might have been able to get away with this secret, but then came Prime Empire.

It shouldn’t have caused anything major to happen. Just another villain trying to take over Ninjago, albeit in an unique way this time, trapping people outside of Ninjago rather than destroying the city.

But then came the detective costume and all the performing that went with it. Zane would admit afterwards that was not as effective as she had hoped, but in the moment?

The act of performing was freeing in a way. It reminded Zane of the anecdotes she had read of drag queens, who found peace in the art.

As the detective, Zane wasn’t just Zane, the ninja. She was a private investigator, looking for clues about Unagami. She was something besides herself.

It was, dare she admit it, fun.

But then the mechanic came and captured her. Captured Zane to use as an energy source to free Unagami from the game.

The pain was blinding. It was one memory Zane wished she could delete from her memory drives, if only because of how much it hurt. The electricity coursing through her circuits was higher than she had ever had felt before, and Zane wasn’t sure how Jay could ever manage to deal with this.

She thought she would die before anyone could rescue her.

When Unagami was released, all Zane could feel was exhaustion. She was exhausted.

But that experience opened her eyes to how easily she could die. How easily she could have another funeral, and no one would know she was actually the daughter of Dr. Julien, and Pixal’s girlfriend and the ninja’s beloved sister.

In the dead of the night, a few weeks later, Zane, for once, made an impulsive choice. She broke into Borg Industries, and fired up the machines needed to build a new chassis.

The design was hastily made, taken from Pixal’s original design with a few minor changes. The main difference was the hair. Where Pixal had a long ponytail, Zane had two braids, one on each side of her head.

But aside from that, Zane was the splitting image of Pixal when she first met him, just in a ninja gi.

Not long after Zane had transferred her consciousness to the new chassis, the door to the factory was slammed open.

Standing there were her family, and Pixal, looking around for a threat. The ninja looked around, confused.

“Are you sure that there are bad guys with Zane here?” Jay whispered.

“Well where else would Zane be? And you heard the report, there was activity in here!” Kai hissed back.

Zane quickly realized what was going on. They did not realize it was her who was using the machines, and thought villains had taken her to the factory for…something.

Clapping her hands, the lights turned on, and the ninja all turned towards Zane. Shock colored their expressions.

Pixal was the first to regain his composure. “Zane? Is that-”

“It is me.” Zane’s voice was quiet, but it felt like she was screaming in the silence.

Metal clanked against metal as Pixal made his way to Zane, cupping her cheek. “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

“And you look handsome,” Zane whispered back, hugging Pixal.

“Will someone explain-”

Cole cut Jay off. “Looks like we have another sister, Zaptrap. Nice to see you’re not captured Zane!”

“I am glad to not be captured as well,” Zane chuckled, letting go of Pixal to look at her family.

Lloyd smiled. “Yeah, I am too. But…a little warning next time?”

“Yeah,” Nya snorted. “We thought that the Mechanic got you or something.”

Smiling sheepishly, Zane nodded. “Alright. I will remember that.”

Kai yawned. “I don’t know about you guys, but I want to go back to bed. Can we all agree that Zane’s amazing and go back home?”

Laughing, Zane nodded. “Of course. I did not mean to worry.”

“You never do.” Pixal slipped his hand into Zane’s. “My very silly girlfriend.”

“My lovely boyfriend.”

Pixal’s eyes glowed with happiness as they followed the rest of the ninja, who were eager to go back to bed.

For the first time in her life, there was no hole in Zane’s heart, a desire she could not fulfill.

Together, Zane and Pixal walked out of the factory, for once at peace entirely.

[finickyfelix]

Writeblr Intro: Up-to-date Version

About Me:

You can call me Felix. 21 year old trans man, he/him pronouns exclusively. I am extremely shy and socially awkward, but I'm trying my best to become more social, mostly by talking in reblog tags, which is my main method of communication around here.

Also I draw, sometimes. I occasionally post my art here, but only very, very rarely.

I am a very big fan of Slay the Princess and Scarlet Hollow, so expect to see reblogs related to them sometimes.

Feel free to tag me in tag games, but I can't guarantee that I will do most of them. I only do them very occasionally. But tag me anyway; I want to see your writing! I am also open to asks.

What I Write:

I once would have said write fantasy, but who knows what I write anymore, honestly. Horror mostly, lately, I guess. Regardless of genre, I always write character-focused stories without much of a focus on plot. I often write fairly dark stuff so please be careful around here. Also I have been known to write (and reblog) NSFW writing on occasion. I do make sure to try my best to tag everything appropriately and use mature content labels when applicable, but still. I will also block any minors who interact with my NSFW writing or reblogs. You have been warned.

Below the cut are my currently posted works + info on my WIP, which I shoved down there because this gets long otherwise. Please click on the read more if you're interested.

Currently Posted Writing:

Note: Although I have works on AO3, I no longer can use AO3 going forward due to reasons involving their updated privacy policy and my anxiety. So although my works are staying up, I can no longer reply to comments and I can't read anyone else's work on AO3 anymore. Sorry!

Snakeskin:

(Available on both Tumblr and AO3)

Part one on Tumblr

Part two on Tumblr

Linos Tievis, a failing medical student who has an interest in monsters, finds an injured monster on the side of the road. Obviously he can't just leave her there, so he does what he can to nurse her back to health. However, she hates him, which is making things difficult.

Word count: 11,117 (on AO3. The word count on Tumblr is a little different due to edits.)

Genre: I have been told that it's horror. It's not supposed to be scary though, just... subtly disturbing. It's mostly meant to be a character study.

Content warnings: Blood and injury, misgendering, familial death, childhood trauma/child abuse, gender dysphoria, non-consensual kissing, past sexual assault, sexual thoughts, kind of cannibalism threats. Very brief and minor mentions of animal death and self-injury.

Notable features: villain origin story set 15 years before Faded Daisy, has a one-sided and very toxic monster/human "romance," has authentic evil insane trans man representation. Also there is a hot lizard lady.

There is also a separate NSFW monsterfucking bonus content story that I wrote for Snakeskin that exists both on Tumblr and on AO3. The Tumblr version is better because I added a bit to it. Please do not click on that link if you are a minor.

Some Company for the Evening:

(Currently only available on AO3.)

Mazarian, a priest currently in line to become the High Priest of Palvis, has recently made a habit of sneaking out at night and drinking in the Lower District. He's kept his celibacy vow intact though; although he's breaking several other vows, this is one line he's not willing to cross. However, tonight he encounters a somewhat suspicious foreign prostitute who seems determined to make him break that vow.

Word count: 8,139

Genre: Fantasy-romance

Content warnings: No actual sex but there are a lot of sexual themes. Also contains themes of religion, implied self-harm, and mild transphobia

Notable features: Fluffy tea date, exploration of religious sexual repression, a cat indirectly contributes to a religious crisis

WIPS:

Faded Daisy:

A monster wakes up with no memories and no idea who or what they are, in a city that usually kills monsters on sight. However, they survive due to the help of the questionable Dr. Tievis, who names them Nameless and says he has never seen a monster like them. Grateful to him for saving their life, Nameless trusts him.

First draft word count: 38,656 words

Status: writing the second draft

Genre: Horror, probably

Notable features: Second person POV, a mad scientist, monsters, an extremely fucked up relationship.

Content warnings: Abuse, manipulation, injury and mutilation, blood and needles, borderline sexual assault, cannibalism, body horror kinda, referenced self harm, referenced child abuse.

Foxglove Dust:

Linos Tievis has lost everything, his career, his clinic, his assistant– and worst of all, the monster who he had depended on to try to achieve his life goal. But he's come back from worse. He'll get it all back, one way or another.

Estimated final word count: Probably slightly longer than Faded Daisy.

Status: Writing the first draft.

Genre: Also horror, probably.

Notable features: Human/monster relationship that is actually consensual? Mad scientist gets a redemption arc??

Content warnings: Not entirely solidified, but expect suicidal thoughts, injury and mutilation, blood and needles, body horror of some variety, and possibly explicit sex. Who knows what all else.

If you got this far, you now have the privilege of knowing about my new secret sideblog @phantasmalfelix where I reblog random stuff that doesn't fit my main blog.

I had other WIPs once, but I abandoned them all and Faded Daisy and its sequel are all that's left.