#I mean it's after that but it's still related so

[blonndiec]

Exactly.

EXACTLY.

And it doesn’t apply only to comments on AO3 but in general in fandoms spaces.

Some weeks back I was about to delete all my works and remove all my presence online with this username. To be honest, it’s a horrible situation to be in. I thought I was really canceled and over in this space. But then I realized that it was not me with this childish behavior, I didn’t had to leave based on a lie against me.

We need to point out this people’s behavior and don’t let it spread through the fandom. And don’t just “complain” with your friends, don’t be scared, don’t succumb to the peer pressure of not saying anything. This things need to be out in the open to let other people know how these people are—you might surprise yourself how many people will reach out with similar if not the same experiences with these people.

I mean...was it too hard being nice from the start? This is fandom culture, not capitalism. People are not your competition, but collaborators freely joining forces to create for the love everyone has for something.

Stop the divisive behavior. Stop labeling people. Stop discriminating people in the fandom and stop gatekeeping content.

I have no empathy towards these people anymore (and I’m sorry for that, because the little I had left stopped after reading deliberately wording in discourses to cancel me, calling me acephobic asshole when they don’t know I’m actually married to one, and even trying to associate me with nazism and using related terms when hundreds of doctors around the world still use this term) and what I would like is people being aware of this behaviors and DONT let it spread. Don’t complicit it. Don’t condone it.

Because it hasn’t been only towards me, but towards more…much more people on the fandom I’m currently in. So I guess it widely happens in other fandoms and affects people until they are ready to jump ship and leave.

I wanna know where people have lately gotten the audacity to leave comments on fanfics talking about how much the fanfic sucked and negatively critiquing an author's fic like it's a published book review.

It pisses me off cause I've seen authors abandoned or delete their fics because of this.

You're getting fanfics for FREE! No one asked for your opinion.

I hope y'all know as authors we get email notifications when you comment so we see EVERY comment that's been left.

We also can see the negative reviews you leave when you bookmark our fics

[lesbianherald]

my hatemail for you is that coming home is too fucking good and im having a hard time finding other jayvik fics that hit like it hit >:( im too new here to have already found my "The Javik Fic" dammit!!!! (p.s. have a good new year <3)

heeheheheeh thank you stuff like this means so much !

but also maybe i can HELPPP

there are some incredible fics out there that deserve so much love and recognition so here's a list of some of my absolute faves!

to swim through the fires – to stay in this world by theroyalsavage (M)

literally adore the character writing in this one and the tone. i found myself relating to and enjoying the style so much.

wound care (E) by Sinister_Queer

call me a child of divorce but I really struggle with fics where they're divorced, but this one is so with it. such an incredible, well-thought-out world and love that is so tangible between them.

advanced particle physics (the laws of attraction may apply) (E) by Sinister_Queer

fuck i didn't realize these were written by the same person until I did this list holy shit I want to give this person a kidney. I'm very picky about modern AUs probably because I had to think about my own so much. but this is just. so so good. The Jayce in this is EXQUISITE!!!

Love was the Law (E) by ruinthatboy

she's the most popular girl in school and I don't care because I'm still going to be singing her praises. incredible fic.

i read the signs (E) by vavavavoom

this is fucking phenomenal. i'd say its more vikjayce because we have defender jayce and machine herald vik, though its also set in an alternate reality from league. it has just, delicious epistolary elements. such good relationship building. it's so hard in a situation like theirs to believe they're fall in love but the author really. makes. you. believe it.

heavy crown (E) by vavavavoom

another absolute banger from this author. i love reading from an author that characterizes differently than you, but still so goddamn WELL. I feel the longing and tension in this and how that wars with duty. it's so marvelous.

hearts in halves (E) by vavavoom

i really struggle with mythology adaptations because they're deceptively hard to pull off but this author did it so damn well. The UGHHH!!!. THE PINING !!! THE WANT !!! AHHH!!!! I literally do not understand how it has not gotten more attention.

the blessing of all that you dreamed (M) by nightlilly

such an interesting one where the set up is similar to their lab dynamic in season 1 but viktor happens to be a really cool original fantasy being who can show people their deepest desires, which obviously gives then-oblivious jayce a crisis. so so good?

let's talk about chemistry cause I'm dying to melt through to the heart of {his} molecules (M) by the_RiftWalker

the love between them is so palpable in this one. they just feel so real. i relate to viktor a lot in this one - just really exquisite work.

inside the starshine by sepiacigarettes (E)

short and sweet and sexy with 👏PINING 👏LOVESTRUCK👏VIKTOR👏

Started out with a Kiss (T) by CasperCryptid

if you need to smile read this. its an adorable very silly drabble that somehow still manages to pack in some signature jayvik longing.

Perfect (M) by TheTrickyOwl

one of my first Jayvik fics i ever read from the one and only and oh my god. the raw emotion in this is so sweet.

Nothing Left to Lose (M) by TheTrickyOwl

same emotions as in perfect but in a devastatingly depressing context. is so so worth the read. so stunning and just brought up so many feelings.

tell me when my hunting days are done (E) by dualwelding

Dark and depressing Vampirism where the change Jayce makes to viktor after he almost dies is turning him into a vampire with insatiable bloodlust. it's such a gut punch and its sexy and I love it!

And finally...

I really hesitated to put anything of my own in this list because these authors are so damn good but I do have two others other than coming home (but not to you). I actually am more proud of here at the end so I wanted to throw it at people against their will.

Here at the End of All Things (M)

Follows old Man AU Mage Viktor's decades of solitude and the aftermath of his meeting with Jayce

In the After (E)

wrote this right after season 2 as a way to cope. was high on these new meds that weren't working the whole time so uhh. i can't attest to this one. she's my stepchild. but I have an inherent affection for her due to the time I wrote it. - follows what might happen after Jayce and Viktor vanished.

[maenoakasuna]

{ All For Us Part II } Part I

Hello and Welcome to the part Two of All for Us ! I'm so happy this little story seem to please people. I still don't really know How to describe in the good way what this story will be, but so far I thing something like ; Toxic relation and healing process are good terms for it.

I hope you will enjoy this part as much as you enjoyed the firts part. My only negativ recap from this part is ; Im sorry for the ending I feel like I rushed it and also sorry for the lac of word or expression. If someone want to help me or correct something or even help me rewrith some parts hit me Up. I will not say No if it can make it better.

TW : Mention of drug, smut without Smut ( Started but never ended) Toxic relation, cheating

Tags : @private-vampire @rafesbunniebby

When you came back in the main Room, you return to the bed you awaken and sit on it. Your arms was wrapped around your legs as you try to breath to not start to cry. You wasn’t sure if all you felt was cause of the pregnancy, the stress or just cause you stopped abruptly to take drugs some months ago. Your mind was set to not take it but your body just want to feel high again. Also you would not be again’t not feeling stress Right Now.

You spotted Thano’s purple hair in the crowd as he mad his way to you with another guy before sitting in your bed, in front of you. He’s eyes was locked on you as you try to look like nothing matter, but your wet eyes and slightly trembling body betrayed You.

«-You didn’t seem to feel Alright, flower. »

He gave a Look at his friend, asking him to leave us alone for a moment. When He left, Thanos got closer to you. If you felt better you would have kicked his ass far from you, but you hardly have energy ton control the hurricane of emotions in your body right now.

Thanos put his arms around your shoulders before whispering something in your ear.

«-Maybe you need one of my special treats, for energy. I bring t some with me. -Scram, looser.»

Your voice was low, but the tone was hatfull. Thanos simply turn his head to look at you and raised an eybrow. He knew something was wrong.

«-Y/N … i’m serious. You didn’t seem fine. We already talked about that. If you want to quit drugs you can’t just do it like this. Your body will still crave it and if you refuse him his usual treat, he will make you go feral.»

A small sarcastic smile appear on your face. You Eyes was locked on what happen in the crowd in front of you, ignoring what the other talked about.

«-You mean, like you did ? No. I will not be like you.»

Thanos sight and let go of you to place himself again in front of you to have eyes contact with you.

«-I know i wasn’t the best boyfriend. I know I fucked up, but I swear I didn’t cheated on you. So please, let me help you.»

He get out the cross to his necklace and opened it, After taking care no one was looking at you, and took one little pill and put it your hand. You looked at the small thing with a lot of hesitation. He gave this to you, for free. You could just swallow it and let the anxiety fly away, but it will be an horrible mistake. This could be the death of your child and the win your body crave for. Also a Win for Thanos who think giving you drug is the real and also the best way to help you.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath as your hand was place one your belly like you tried to protect your child.

«-I can’t.

Your voice was shaky, just like you refuse to take the pill to gave you good conscience but it was just really hard to say no when all you need is that small little thing to make you feel better.

-Excuse-me, what ? What do you mean you can’t ? »

Thanos seems really surprised to ear you say no to this. That was one of your favorite drug before.

Giving him back his pill you opened your eyes and answered with more confidence.

«-I can’t. I don’t want to touch that shit ever again.»

The rapper looked at the pill in your hand and took it back, unsure and still surprised. He was about to say something but was cut by the crowd asking to leave, to do a vote. The guard agreed but first, they showed you and the rest of the alive competitors the amount of money you had collected after one game. If you all take the decision to leave, you will end up with more money than when you arrived but it wasn’t enough to pay your debts, but was it worth risking your life ? 

The vote started with player 456 who voted to go back home. You will pass in the last ones, it give you time to think about what you're gonna do.

You weren't surprised to see Thanos vote to stay.

When it was finally your turn, get up of your bed and walk to the machine, looking at the two buttons and the numbers of vote. It was 50/50

As much as you wish to go home, stay alive and never have to see Thano’s face ever again, the money you will receive from all the people who died in the first game, to had put your life in danger, it wasn’t enough. Not enough to clear you debts or to raise a child. Plus, here you will not find a way to put your hand on drug again. At least if you could leave with a little more money to go in detox, it will be the best. That’s why you choose to stay.

You felt sorry for everyone who wanted to go home, you will maybe choose to leave after the next game.

Before going to bed, you had to go to the bathroom. You didn’t felt so good, all the stress, the blood, the weird smell everywhere gave you nausea and you could hold in anymore. You took the first cabinet and throw up. You wasn’t sure if it was just the pregnancy but for once you had doubts about it, it just didn’t help.

«-I’m sorry… I’m sorry to put you in all this danger. To make you feel all those harsh emotions…»

Still throwing up, you felt tears on your face. You could hold in anything anymore. Everything was too much for a day.

«-One more game… and we are going home. I swear. »

You cried out as you flush the toilet. You let all your negative emotion out until you heard someone knock at your cabin door.

«-I’m sorry, I overheard you and I felt worried. Are you alright there ? -Yeah, wonderful, you answered with a lot of sarcasm, best day of my life.»

You sniffled and whipped your tears before get up of your feets and leaving the cabin. You found yourself face to face with another young girl with the number 222 or her hoodie. She looked at you with some concern. On the other part of her top, you could see a X. She voted to go home and cause of your vote, you denied her that fate. You felt like it was the best decision to stay, but you also felt so much guilt.

«-You talked alone ? She asked you. -Yeah, exactly. »

You are not here to make friends and you dont know her. You will not start to explain all your worries to a perfect stranger.

«-Can I ask you something  ? She asked as you made your way to the sink -You already did but yeah sure. -Why did you choose to Stay ? -Why did you choose to leave ?»

You saw her in the mirror, putting her hand on her belly while she looked at it with a worried look in her eyes.

«-Because I’m pregnant.»

Now you felt more guilty. You was in the same boat in this situation. What a Hellhole, two pregnants womens for one game. As you watch the water flow in your hands, you sigh heavily and close it, still looking at the sink.

«-So Am I. That’s why I chose to stay for at least one other game. I need this money to clear debts and at least go to therapy before I give birth. I don’t want my child to leave like I used to the last two years.»

You opened up so easily and mentally cursed yourself, you knew you shouldn't but you felt better now. Maybe Life put her on your way to show you that you are not alone.

«-How many months ? She asked.-I don’t really Know, for around 2 months. I realized it after I left my boyfriend, almost two months ago.»

She slowly get closer to You as you turn around to face her. You noticed her belly, it was bigger than yours, but with the baggy clothes it’s easy to hide. You should be able to hide it from Thanos without any problems. Your bum his only visible when your remove your cloths or show that part of your body, witch mean ; Never.

«-Why are you here ? You asked Her. -I need money to raise the kid on my own and the father put me in debt. I want a fresh start, but I never thought it would be a deadly games. What about You ? -Not that different from You. Addicted dad, drugs debts for both of us, also other things with an internet guy who scammed him and He lost everything. »

You continued your little chat with player 222 until a guard knocked at the door, asking You to get out. When the lights will turn off you need to be In your bed. 

You both left the bathroom to go back to the main room.

Once In your bed and the lights off, you weren't sleepy at all. You had too much on your mind, starting with Thanos and how you left him. Since you saw him cheating on you, you often have nightmares about that, waking up with the horrible feeling of not being  enough, cause that’s exactly what you felt that day.

Two Months Ago

You were awakened by Thano’s soft kisses on your Body. You could feel every one of them, starting by the corner of your lips, going down on your jaw, your neck, your shoulders. Your skin felt like melting under his lips. You could feel him smile as he continued his way down, kissing your collarbone as his hands found their place on your hips, pressing you against his more than awake boner. Having such an effect on him makes you smile as you open your eyes. The light coming from the big window of his apartment felt like aggression. Your eyes shut again as the headache started to hit. You were probably a little bit hungover from last night. 

When Thanos noticed you were awake, he smiled and slowly slid his hands under the Big t-shirt of his that you borrow every night, claiming it as your pajama.

«-Good morning Beautiful,  he said as he came back to kiss your neck. -Good morning, you answered as you tried again to open your eyes.»

This time, it was easier and the sun didn’t feel like your eyes were melting. You could see the beautiful smile of your boyfriend as his lips joined yours for a passionate kiss. Passing your arms around his neck, you answered the kiss with as much passion as him.

His Hands, still on your hips until now, started moving up to your breast, gently squeezing it . A shiver passed through your body when you felt the cold air on your exposed skin since your T-shirt followed Thanos hands. 

Your boyfriend ended the kiss and he took his time to look at you. Flushed cheeks, heavy breathing, exposed breast  with hard nipple who seem to call for his mouth. 

«-Fuck, baby, your are so beautifull.»

You didn’t know what you could answer. Thanos was one of those men who make you blush with that kind of praise. You liked that and He knew it.

With a Smile, he opened the drawer close to the bed and put out a stack of pills. For a second you thought he would take a condom but his priorities seemed to be for something else.

«-Do you really like that ? You asked, unsure. -Relax beautiful, it will just make the experience better, for both of us. »

He was about to take the pill when you stopped him.

«-Thanos, you don’t need that to make love to me.»

That’s when reality hits you like a car at full speed. You don’t even remember one time, in two years, when you was sober when it came to intimacy.

«-We can do it without, this time.-Why ? We always used to fucked when we was high. Believe my experience, it’s better.»

Fuck, not even making love. All of that made you feel suddenly uncomfortable. Gently, you pushed him from above you and replace you T-shirt to cover your body. All that just turned you off.

«-Is that what it is for you ? We just fuck.  -Fucking, Banging, Hoocked up , making love. All the same. Why is that suddenly such a Big deal ? -I don’t know, I just feel like it’s wrong. We shouldn't have to be high every time we have intimacy.»

Thanos' sight as he got up and took the pill.

«-Fuck off. You turned me off with your princess shit, he said as he left the room to go to the bathroom.»

That day was no fun. You had a great time the other night after his show, you came home late, drunk and probably high and now this. Thanos never liked when people tell him how to act or how he should feel, but you should have this right, at least to make the best out of him, but when you try he just push you away.

You barely talked that day. He had another show at the same bar from yesterday and had to work on some songs, so you let him work in peace. You spent your day in a coffee shop, thinking about what happened this morning, until you realised nothing was right in this relation. You didn’t even remember him telling you he loved you. All he always said was about how good you locked, or how beautiful you was, how much fun he had with you, but never how much he loved you, and somehow that broke your heart.

You could have wait until he came home to talk to him, but you knew He will probably be to tired and too high to have a serious conversation, si you showed up at the bar before he started his show. Making your way to his private room, you was about to enter but you stopped when you heard a feminine voice coming from there. The door was a little bite opened so you could see what was happening there. That’s how you knew. The vision broke your heart more than it already was. 

You saw a random girl sit on the table in the middle of the room and your boyfriend passionately kissing her. You knew Thanos for long enough to know that kind of passion. It was the ‘’ I will fuck you right here and right now ‘’ kind of one. 

You saw enough so you just left with tears in your eyes and even less than a broken heart.

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

6

Jinx

“What an absolutely fucking tragic story.”

“Boy meets girl,” I say, flipping the book open and letting it smack the table with a loud thwack.

“They swap a couple of lines, maybe a little eye-fucking across the room, and then bam—marriage, murder, and melodrama. Honestly, Romeo and Juliet is just horny teenagers making bad decisions with a death toll. Kinda iconic, but also… pathetic.”

Y/N’s trying so hard not to laugh, but that little twitch at the corner of her mouth gives her away.

She glances down at her notebook like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, but I know better.

I always know better.

“Come on, admit it,” I press, leaning closer.

“This whole thing is just Shakespeare projecting his wet dreams onto paper. I mean, would you throw yourself into a coffin for someone you just met?”

Y/N looks up, her face a little red, and gives me this look—half-exasperated, half-amused. “It’s supposed to be romantic,” she says, her tone just a little too patient.

“Oh, sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Nothing screams romance like poison and stab wounds. That’s hot. Super sexy.” I lean back in my chair, grinning.

“Although, I guess dying for someone is one hell of a flex. Bet Juliet was into some kinky shit.”

“Jinx!” she hisses, her eyes wide as she glances around the library, like the ghost of Shakespeare himself might pop out of the shelves and strike me down.

“What?” I ask, throwing my hands up.

“You think Romeo was all sweet talk and poetry? Nah, that guy was definitely whispering filthy shit to her under the balcony. Bet he was like, Juliet, you light up my world—now get on your-”

Y/N lets out this strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and covers her face with her hands. “You’re impossible,” she mutters.

But I can see her shoulders shaking.

“Impossible, but not wrong,” I say, leaning forward with a smirk.

“You know I’m right. Horny teens and bad decisions—they go hand in hand. Speaking of…” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

“You ever had someone wax poetic about you? Or, I don’t know, climb a fire escape to declare their undying love?”

“No,” she says firmly, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Shame,” I say, tapping my chin. “You’re missing out. Although, honestly? If someone pulled that shit with me, I’d probably just drag them inside and—”

“Jinx!” she whisper-yells, her voice high-pitched and scandalized.

Her face is so red now I’m almost worried she’s going to combust.

Almost.

I grin, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms. “What? I’m just saying. Life’s short. Might as well enjoy it. Or are you more of a ‘tragic, yearning stares from a distance’ type?”

She gives me a look.

The kind of look that says I’m pushing my luck.

But I catch the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

It’s faint.

But it’s there, and it’s enough to keep me going.

“Can we please focus?” she says, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

“Sure,” I say, picking up the book again and thumbing through the pages. “But I’m warning you now, I’m not letting Romeo off the hook for being the patron saint of bad decisions.”

Y/N leans back in her chair, pressing her lips together like she’s trying desperately not to laugh.

Her cheeks are pink, and there’s this quiet glow to her that tugs at something in my chest.

I ignore it.

“So,” I say, flipping the book open again with an exaggerated flourish.

“Are we supposed to write some revolutionary take on this mess, or is it just vibes and clichés? You’re the genius here, enlighten me.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s that little curve to her lips, the one that makes her whole face soften. “Themes,”

“We’re supposed to analyze the themes, connect them to modern relationships, and explain why the story is still relevant.”

“Relevant?” I snort, leaning back. “Oh, sure. Because every teenager I know is out here marrying strangers after one dance and dying for them two days later. So relatable.”

“You’re impossible,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is warm, light, teasing.

“Thank you,” I say, grinning.

She picks up her pen again, her focus shifting back to the notebook in front of her.

Naturally, I lean over, because how could I not snoop, but she slams it shut before I can even get a glimpse.

“Oh, come on,” I groan, clutching my chest like she’s mortally wounded me. “What’s the big secret? Writing a love letter? A sonnet? A tragic ode to unrequited love?”

“It’s not a secret,” she says firmly, though the way her fingers tighten around the notebook tells a different story. “It’s just not finished.”

“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes at her, my grin sharp and unrelenting.

“You’re not secretly crushing on Romeo, are you? Or maybe…”

My voice drops, dripping with mock drama. “Maybe you’ve got your own Romeo? Someone you’re tragically pining for?”

Her cheeks turn a brilliant shade of crimson, and her eyes dart everywhere except at me.

“Oh my God,” I say, sitting up like I’ve just cracked the biggest mystery of the century. “You do! Who is it? Come on, spill. I need to know everything.”

“There’s no one!” she protests, but her voice is high-pitched, and her fingers fidget with the corner of her notebook.

“Liar,” I say, my grin turning downright devious.

I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought.

“Is it someone in our class? That broody guy who always acts like he’s too cool to care? Or…” I pause, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s a girl?”

Her pen freezes mid-air.

For a second, she looks at me like I’ve uncovered her deepest, darkest secret.

Bingo.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Y/N

I can feel my heart picking up its pace, a strange fluttering in my chest that has nothing to do with the subject matter at hand. Jinx’s words echo in my mind, her teasing lingering far longer than I’d like to admit. The way she looked at me, the mischievous grin on her face—it’s enough to make me squirm, but I won’t let her see that.

“No one,” I reply firmly, hoping the edge in my voice sounds more convincing than it feels. “I’m not—there’s just no one.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a soft chuckle. “Alright, if you say so.”

I focus on my notebook, flipping a page with deliberate care. The task at hand should be enough to keep me grounded, and yet the thought of her knowing something I’ve never fully acknowledged myself unsettles me. It feels as though she’s pierced a part of me I’m still figuring out, and that makes me more uncomfortable than I’m willing to admit.

Still, I refuse to let that show. Instead, I straighten up, refocusing on our assignment. “Regardless, Romeo and Juliet is still a farcical tragedy,” I begin, keeping my tone calm and collected, but there’s a subtle bite to it. “The impulsiveness, the poor decisions—it’s a pattern in a lot of Shakespeare’s works. It speaks to the nature of youth, to desire, rather than rational thought.”

Jinx snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, sure, I’m sure that’s exactly what Shakespeare was going for. Desire, right? More like he was just a horny old man trying to sell sex on the page. No wonder those two idiots killed themselves over each other.”

I nod, careful to keep my composure. “Yes. Desire, more than love. They acted on passion rather than considering the consequences. Shakespeare’s portrayal of love is often hyperbolic, exaggerated to the point where it’s almost abs-"

I get cut off by another snicker from her followed by, "You damn nerd."

I pause mid-sentence, blinking at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she says, tilting her head, her grin widening. “You’re such a nerd, Y/N. Who even says ‘hyperbolic’ in casual conversation? It’s like you’re auditioning for a Shakespeare reboot.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “It’s called having a vocabulary,” I reply, my tone clipped but teasing. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

She gasps dramatically, clutching her chest like I’ve struck her through with a dagger. “Wow. Coming at me with the intellectual smackdown, huh? Careful, or I’ll start quoting Shakespeare back at you.”

“Please don’t,” I say quickly, holding up a hand like I’m warding off some impending disaster.

Jinx grins, leaning forward now, her elbows on the table. “Oh, but wouldn’t you love that? Imagine me up on a balcony, all, But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” She pauses, fluttering her eyelashes for effect. “You’d swoon. Admit it.”

“I’d laugh,” I correct, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “And then I’d shut the window.”

She cackles, the sound sharp and chaotic, and it’s impossible not to smile. “Cold, Y/N. Ice cold. No wonder you don’t have a Romeo climbing fire escapes for you.”

I roll my eyes, flipping a page in the book to feign disinterest. “Not everyone needs a grand romantic gesture, Jinx. Some of us prefer substance over theatrics."

Jinx leans back in her chair, propping her boots up on the edge of the table like she owns the place. Her smirk is sharp, eyes glittering with mischief.

“C'mon, Y/N,” she drawls. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want someone to show up, grand gesture and all, declaring undying devotion? Maybe a little dramatic fainting thrown in for good measure?”

I snort. “No. Definitely not. I’d find it mortifying.”

She tilts her head, feigning innocence. “What about some spicy poetry? Like, Oh, Y/N, your... uh, unparalleled intelligence leaves me trembling.” Her voice dips into a breathy almost smutty tone, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” I mutter, flipping through my notes.

“And you’re boring,” she fires back without missing a beat. “Where’s the fun, huh? You don’t think Juliet was secretly hoping Romeo would skip the iambic pentameter and just pin her to a wall?”

I look up, feeling my cheeks heat. “Jinx.”

“What?” she says, her grin downright wicked now. “I’m just saying. The whole woe is me, tragic romance thing might’ve been for show. Behind closed doors, she was probably like, Enough about the stars, Romeo, let’s talk about your sword.”

And I falter, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably before bursting out so loud that it shatters the quiet of the library. The sound is obnoxious, and I can’t stop it, even though I know I should. Mrs. Clark, the poor librarian, scurries over to us, her face draining of color when she realizes it’s me—me—who caused the disturbance. Her eyes widen in horror, and I shrink back in my seat, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Clark says sharply, her voice quivering with disapproval, “This is a library. I expect more from you.”

I swallow, my throat tight, and I can barely meet her gaze. The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the scratch of Mrs. Clark’s pen as she writes us both a detention slip. “After school,” she mutters, her voice tight. She hands us the slips, one by one, and I want to crawl under the table, but I can't. Not with everyone staring.

I take the slip, my hands trembling, my face burning with the weight of the embarrassment. Jinx’s laughter, the one that started all this, has quieted, but there's still a mischievous glint in her eyes. At first, it seems like she's enjoying my discomfort, and I can't help but wish she’d be quiet for just a moment, let me process this in peace.

But then, her smirk fades. She glances at me, her expression softening as she catches the way my shoulders slump, the way I'm trembling. I try to blink back the tears threatening to spill, but they’re already in my eyes. It’s stupid, it’s just a detention, but the humiliation is unbearable.

Jinx doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel the weight of her gaze on me as I struggle to hold back the tears. She slides out of her chair, slowly stepping closer, crouching down beside me with a quiet seriousness I’ve rarely seen from her. Her voice, when it comes, is low, almost soothing.

“Hey,” she says, her words gentle, like she’s trying to reach through the storm inside me. “It’s not that bad, okay? Detention's just... it's nothing. It’s temporary.”

I don’t respond, but I can feel the tears starting to burn in my eyes, and I just can't stop them. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, trying to hide how I’m trembling.

Jinx doesn’t back away, though. Instead, she reaches out, her hand soft as it rests on my shoulder, the touch surprisingly warm and comforting. “Come on toots, let’s go,” she says, her voice so different from the usual teasing tone, like she’s saying it for me, not for her. “I’ll take you somewhere... just let’s get out of here, okay?”

I nod, my throat tight, and let her guide me out of the library. The hallways feel colder now, like everything around me is a reminder of how utterly humiliated I feel. But Jinx stays close, walking beside me, her presence steady and unwavering, like she’s determined not to let me fall apart alone.

She leads me into the girls’ bathroom, the door shutting quietly behind us. It’s quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, and for a moment, everything feels still. Jinx leans against the counter, watching me with a softness in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets me breathe, lets the silence settle between us.

I break.

The tears come without warning, and I retreat to the corner, curling into myself, trying to make myself smaller. I press my hands to my face, desperate to hide the rawness of what I’m feeling. The sobs are quiet at first, but they soon escape in harsh, ragged breaths. The shame, the embarrassment—it’s overwhelming, suffocating. I feel completely exposed, fragile, and utterly out of control.

I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to. But she doesn’t leave.

There’s a quiet moment, just the sound of my breathing, of me trying to stifle the sobs. And then Jinx moves toward me, her steps slow, careful. She crouches down next to me, not trying to force anything, not speaking. She just watches me for a moment, her eyes filled with something tender, and then her hand reaches out. Her fingers brush through my hair, slow and soothing, the soft strokes almost enough to make me forget everything else.

"Shhh," she murmurs, her voice quiet, barely above a whisper. "It’s okay."

I can’t stop the tears. I don’t even try. But the sound of her voice, the feel of her fingers weaving through my hair, so gentle, so careful—it’s grounding. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t tell me to stop crying. She just stays there, her touch like a balm for the rawness inside me.

After a long moment, she shifts again, her hand moving to wipe away the tears that have soaked my cheeks. Her fingers are gentle, each movement deliberate, as if she’s treating me like something fragile but important. Her touch is steady, patient, and it’s like she’s saying, without words, that I don’t have to hide. That I’m allowed to feel, to break.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

"C'mon, toots—it’s only an hour, alright? No big deal." I glance at Y/N, tucked behind me like a little puppy, her hand in mine.

It’s like she’s trying to disappear into the floor, and I don’t... I don’t know what to do with that.

I peek into the detention room, Mr. Wheeler’s already there, half asleep

Of course he is.

His glasses are dangling off his nose, like he forgot they even exist.

He’s ancient—like, fossil-level ancient—but whatever.

Doesn’t matter.

I yank the door open.

And there he is. Boy savior himself, sitting in the corner, all quiet and broody.

I waggle my free hand at him. Big, dumb wave. Like, hi, notice me!

Ekko’s head pops up.

His face twists into full-on confusion. Like, what the actual hell?

His eyes dart to Y/N behind me, all tucked in and quiet, and I can practically hear the gears in his head grinding.

I can see it.

The way his gaze softens, just a little, but then hardens again.

Like he’s trying to figure out how to act, what to say, how to breathe, maybe.

And I get it. I do.

Because once, a long time ago, it was the three of us.

Ekko. Y/N. Me.

Best friends.

And now?

Now we’re... this. Whatever this is. Unspoken crap hanging in the air like a bad smell.

After what happened—Vander’s death, Vi’s wrongful juvie sentence, and Silco taking me in...

Shit hit the fan.

Everything snapped.

The three of us? We used to be inseparable.

Me, Boy Savior, and Y/N. We were the kind of trio that people envied—always laughing, always plotting, always looking out for each other.

But after everything fell apart?

That trio was gone. Just... gone.

Ekko and I? We managed to reconcile. Somehow. It wasn’t easy, but we put the pieces back together.

Mostly.

But Y/N and him?

Never.

Whatever they had? Whatever we all had? It just crumbled. And they never found their way back to each other.

The air feels heavy. Like it’s pressing down on us.

Y/N’s hand squeezes mine. Tight. Too tight. Like she thinks if she lets go, she’ll just... vanish.

I glance back at her. Pale. Shaking. Her eyes darting everywhere except him.

Ekko.

The Boy Savior.

He’s staring at her like she’s a ghost. Or maybe a grenade. His jaw’s tight, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know where to put them.

Say something.

Do something.

But he just sits there. Quiet. Staring.

It’s unbearable.

“Gonna sprain something, Boy Savior,” I snap, too loud, too sharp. “All that thinking’s dangerous, y’know.”

His head snaps up. Eyes narrow. “Jinx.”

That tone. Even. Calm. Like he’s the adult in the room.

Which he's not cause fucking Mr Wheeler's old ass is at the desk asleep now.

“What?” I throw my free hand up, grinning like a lunatic. “Just saying. You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life or some shit.”

Still nothing.

He glances at Y/N again.

And she flinches.

I can’t. I can’t with this.

“Seriously? We’re doing this? Now?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean. “It’s detention. Not a goddamn soap opera.”

“Jinx, stop.”

Her voice.

Soft. Cracked. Barely there.

I freeze. Look at her. She’s hiding behind me, eyes on the floor, her face red like she’s about to cry again.

My chest tightens.

Ekko’s watching us, his expression... weird. Guilty? Concerned? I can’t tell.

“Whatever,” I mutter, pulling Y/N further into the room. “Let’s just sit.”

I drag her to the far corner, away from him. Away from everything.

We sit. She tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let go. Nope. Not happening.

“Uh-uh, toots,” I whisper. “You’re stuck with me.”

She doesn’t argue. Just wipes her face with her sleeve, all quiet and miserable.

Across the room, I can feel him watching.

Always watching.

And I hate it.

I hate all of this.

I hear a grunt and then...

"The hell is she in here for?"

Ekko’s voice slices through the tension like a blade.

Y/N stiffens beside me, her hand still in mine, like she’s trying to hide behind me.

���Y/N’s here because—” I start, but I don’t know how to finish that.

The fuck should I say?

“Because I laughed too loud,” Y/N mumbles, barely loud enough to hear.

Ekko blinks.

“You?” he says, voice full of disbelief.

“Apparently.” Y/N pulls her hand away from mine tucking them into her sleeves like she’s trying to hide.

I snort, rolling my eyes. “It’s ‘cause Mrs. Clark is a total cunt.”

Ekko’s eyes narrow.

His face hardens a little—like he’s getting pissed off, not at us, but at the absurdity of it. “She really gave you detention for that?” His voice drops, angry now. “For laughing? That’s... that’s fucking ridiculous.”

I nod, crossing my arms. “Told ya. Stupid.”

Y/N looks down, trying to disappear into the floor like she can avoid everything.

So, of course, I’m not having that.

I grab her hand. “C’mon, Y/N. Detention? Are you seriously gonna sit here like some sad sack when we could be out there making actual trouble?”

She gives me the side-eye, clearly hesitant. “I’m not sure—”

“Stop thinking, and just do,” I snap, tugging her toward the window. "I’m done with this place, and you should be too."

She hesitates again, her face a mix of nervousness and confusion. I roll my eyes. “Detention’s for losers, Y/N. And you’re not a loser. You’re a rebel just waiting to burst out.”

Ekko’s already halfway through the window, a grin plastered on his face like he’s got nothing better to do than burn this place to the ground. “C’mon, this is way better than sitting in that crap hole. You don’t want to miss it.”

I lean out the window, breathing in the night air like it’s the first breath of freedom I’ve had in ages. “You’re seriously gonna let this lame-ass detention keep you locked up? Or are you gonna live a little?”

She’s still stiff, unsure, but there’s a flicker in her eyes.

She’s fighting it.

I see it. She’s craving a reason to break the rules, but she’s scared.

I pull her closer, voice low but firm. “Look, it’s just one little jump, Y/N. What’s the worst that can happen? Get caught and get another detention? Big deal. You can always blame me. I’ve got it covered.”

Finally, after what feels like forever, she steps up.

Slowly at first, but then quicker.

She's in.

I laugh, watching her climb out. “That’s my girl,” I mutter, watching her face. There’s a spark in her now, and I can feel it.

She’s gonna love this.

We all slide out the window, landing in the cool night air.

Ekko shoots me a look, like we're all in on some big joke. “Now this is how you do it,” he says, grinning ear-to-ear.

Y/N looks at me, her face still a little stunned, but now she’s definitely feeling it. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she says, breathless.

“You bet your ass we did,” I say, with a grin that could cut glass.

“Best decision of your life. Welcome to the rebellion, toots.”

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: the friendship has begun to progress slightly, more where that came from ;)

please like and reblog!

[miifu666]

Asks you say?

What if Lmk Sun Wukong didnt meet Suklha for the first time until after LMK started? And let's just say he got a little bit obsessed with her. So yandere Sun Wukong (because yanderes are awesome!)

What are your thoughts on that?

PHOENIXXX HIII 🥹🥹🩷🩷

YESSS I LOVE YANDEREEES but i do tend to make them too dead dove- I've thought about it for a while! and made some Yan! Wukong with it! just below the Read more!

(I am having trouble drawing LMK Wukong tbh)

I imagine they met through MK. Particularly meeting through MK causing wreckage and falling through the roof of Suklha meeting her Client. In this case, Suklha isn't Wukong's lawyer and he has no idea who she is.

In a very cartoonish way, Wukong got attracted at first sight. Curious and threatened. The thought of another immortal chasing after MK, his prodigy just to talk about property damage? Thats hilarious! MK was just trying to save the city! This is injustice-!

Okay, maybe he can give her the benefit of the doubt. He hasn't been teaching MK properly. He'll admit, he's not the best teacher to have. He's probably lucky to have MK as his student who's so naive and patient. Naive enough for Wukong to ask who the lady that caught him during their sparring, get his ear talked out about an immortal Lawyer amongst celebrities known as the best of the best. I mean, what kind of monkey king doesn't have her as a lawyer? She's supposed to be the best! He should fire his current one. Yeah that makes sense, its definitely not because so he can get closer to Suklha. Nah, thats too egotistical! Hes a renowned sage! He should know better!

Yet even as he FINALLY joined those "VIP party" hosted by someone he doesn't care enough about, just so multiple well known artists and celebrities can gather and talk nonsense while drinking alcohol. His eyes kept looking around for a blue toned lady, usually his own Lawyer attend these events, something about finding relations and connections.

Eh, he lives in the mountains. His novel is worldwide, he doesn't need those stupid stuff.

He's lucky enough to see his namecard being put beside the person of interest, holding a glass of fine wine. Wearing a new and expensive black outfit, yet similar enough to her usual look.

"Oh? I was expecting your lawyer... is he not coming?"

Hearing her talk about him so fondly made his eyes twitch, blood red sclera affecting his vision. The room is closing in, he can sense everything in it. The chitter chatter, clinking of expensive glass, the pouring of alcohol, and the way Suklha's heavy earrings seemed to shine. Maybe firing the prick wasn't enough, maybe he should've done something more... adequate

All he can do is bite his bottom lip till blood draws out, all this time, such treasure was hiding under his nose. Spending time with his uptight and annoying Lawyer, who does nothing but berates him on not checking his emails and being "unprofessional". His ugly, old-schooled lawyer, got a chance to introduce himself to her?? How...foul

Don't worry, The Monkey King is good at handling business

_________

To those of you who wants to send me asks! I may not answer some of them, but i still appreciate and read all of them!! 🥹🫶 and yes its okay to send ur oc to introduce me to/yap to me abt! Please be mindful of my pinned post!

[bemusedlybespectacled]

since @sketchy-scribs-n-doods asked why birth certificates are racist:

preface: read this post about eugenics so that I don't have to write that overview again.

anywho! the very very short version is that there was a guy named Walter Ashby Plecker (hereafter "the Plecker fucker") who was a doctor in Virginia in the late 1800s/early 1900s. like he was born right around when the Civil War ended and his family owned slaves, if you want to get an idea of the time and place we're talking about.

the Plecker fucker, along with a couple of his good buddies John Powell and Ernest Sevier Cox(1) from the Anglo-Saxon Club(2), wrote and lobbied for a law called the Racial Integrity Act (incidentally, one of the blueprints the Nazis used for their own laws), which did a couple of things:

it legally categorized every person into either "white" or "colored," with "white" being only people with a completely unbroken and provable white European heritage – with a teeny tiny exception for people who were less than 1/16th Native American that he was bullied into including(3) – and "colored" being literally everything else, with no specificity as to whether it meant Black or Asian or Native American or whatever;

it prohibited white people from marrying colored people (though notably not banning having sex with them: we're talking about a guy whose family owned slaves here, so you can do the math on that)

it allowed for the sterilization of certain undesirable people, such as the mentally ill; and, most importantly for our purpose:

it required all births and marriages to be registered in a big state-wide database, with the races of all parties listed.

and he also set himself up as the first guy in charge of that registry, so that it would be done exactly the way he wanted it.

prior to this, if you could get away with passing as white, you were (generally) treated as white. this was to prevent any white-passing mixed race people from marrying into white society (because their birth certificate records would show that their parents had nonwhite heritage), and eventually eliminate mixed race people, period.

now, obviously birth certificates weren't in common use before this law, so at least the first wave of people affected by the law could still (in theory) lie about their ethnicity and establish themselves as white on their birth certificates, thus allowing them to continue marrying "real" white people.

not a problem! the Plecker fucker fancied himself a bit of a genealogist (meaning he thought everyone with the same last name was related, somehow), so he'd just go in and edit people's records to say "colored," invalidating their marriages in the process, and ordered all of the people under him to do the same. like, there's a letter he sent out to the county-level people that was like, "anyone with the last name Collins [yes, really] is actually mixed race, DO NOT LET THEM GET MARRIED TO WHITE PEOPLE, EDIT ALL THEIR RECORDS."(4)

outside of the obvious negative effects of the law in general not allowing interracial marriages (until it was overturned by Loving v. Virginia in 19-fucking-67) and sterilizing anyone disabled or "feebleminded," him going in and literally erasing Native heritage from records has prevented Virginian Native Americans from being able to claim federal tribal recognition, because it's all just "white" or "colored," which could mean anything nonwhite.

anyway, that's why birth certificates are racist. they were made up by a racist guy to do more racism. and then that racist guy got hit by a car and died.

I stg this is the short version. the longer version was idk how many pages before I melted into a depressed puddle of goo and almost flunked out of my senior year of college.

(1) Ernest Sevier Cox was a weird fucking dude in that he was really good friends with Marcus motherfucking Garvey, to the point that they attended each other's events, dedicated books to each other, and wrote each other a lot of letters even after Garvey was deported to Jamaica (and Cox personally tried to get Garvey released from jail when he was imprisoned for mail fraud). This was partly because white nationalism and black separatism accomplished the same ultimate goals (i.e. Black people leaving the US) from different angles, but I think they just also genuinely liked each other? For some reason??

(2) Basically the KKK but for genteel, refined, upper-class people instead of violent, disorderly peasants (yes, they legit disliked the KKK because it was a poor person thing). Also, I can't find it again, but at one point when I was researching all this in college, I was looking through old school newspapers and either William & Lee or William & Mary had a junior Anglo-Saxon Club, sort of like a Young Republicans, and one of their contributions to the student newspaper was a piece about how they definitely weren't racist and how dare they be accused of racism, they just didn't want blacks or whites mixing! How is that racist? (Yes, they used the word "racist," and I have no idea what their definition of racism was, if it wasn't what they were doing) Anyway, I think about that a lot.

(3) This is informally called the Pocahontas Exception, because a lot of really, really influential, prominent and rich Virginians actually took a lot of pride in claiming to be descended from Pocahontas and John Rolfe (even if they weren't), and without the exception, they'd all be classified as "colored." Plecker didn't want any exceptions at all (he was, at the very least, not a hypocrite about what he thought "white" meant), but given that some of the people the law would make "colored" would potentially be voting on the law, he had to include the exception or risk it not being passed at all.

(4) The reason I even got into this subject in the first place is that one of my family tree names is on that list and we're pretty sure they moved to Kentucky because of it, but it doesn't necessarily mean they're related to us OR that they were white-passing mixed-race people: they could well have been just plain white people who happened to have the same surname.

[eldritch-spouse]

I’m hanging out in the sloth ring, on the phone quietly with a friend or something, nobody is paying me much attention so I don’t mind having a bit of a scandalous conversation in public:

“- look I adore somnophilia, I really do, but in practicality it doesn’t work. I wake up far too easily,”

Conversation moves on to other kinks or related topics, me not paying to much attention to who just overheard me.

[I don't exactly know if you were aiming at anyone here, so I rolled the dice.]

Sloth is a quiet Ring.

The lights are dimmed, sounds are muted, movement comes in bursts then settles, even the sky in this part of Hell appears darker to keep its residents sedated. And, sure enough, even a human like you feels tired, for no apparent reason, in the grounds of the slothful.

Precisely because of how quiet and still everything is, foreigners assume that they're safe, that no one is giving them an ounce of scrutiny and there's hardly a need to watch themselves.

Any good prey knows that the absence of sound is trouble.

Closed eyes and softly rising chests don't mean anything. The streets are lively, you just can't tell.

Absorbed in conversation, you've been walking gradually slower, until you all but halted in the middle of the sidewalk. Sloth expects people to want to lay down just about anywhere, so you had a seat waiting for you.

Little did you know, you were right in front of a demoness' hair salon.

Lucidia takes her time to work, she'll admit it, but the benefit of such is that she can put her professional perfectionism in front of everything, the knowledge of her success helping her through the sludge that is cleaning up after a client. She'd been sweeping snipped hair off the floor when she noticed you out front.

You talk loudly. Foreigners always do. Shamelessly too. The woman subtly evaluates you from top to bottom.

It's impossible to tell, but Luci assumes you're here to visit someone, everything about you screams 'excited to be here'. You're decently dressed, and when you turn your head around a bit, she finds beautiful features on a human complexion. It's a shame that, having such natural beauty, you walk around with such lackluster hair.

The demoness blinks when the topic of your conversation becomes increasingly obscene. She's sure the neighboring businesses are hearing this too.

Somnophilia...? Someone's going to approach you sooner or later. You're dumb.

Did you come here for the experience? Because your surfacer bedfriends can't do it properly? You certainly sound frustrated about it. Lucidia murmurs to herself that this could be a trap, that you're intentionally baiting slothfolk to come onto you because you know they can keep you under, they can make your fantasy a reality.

But even then, you're so ignorant.

What makes you think they'd stop at touching you in your sleep? What makes you think they'd have any reason to let go of you when you're at your most vulnerable? You could never wake up again, if they wanted to feed off you for as long as possible. The number of horrid things that could happen to someone as airheaded as you if you were to fall into opportunistic hands is endless.

Your conversation seems to die out when another demon exits a store from across the street, staring at you knowingly.

Luci doesn't realize she's moving until she's nearly fogging the hair salon window, glowering wordlessly behind you, at the other stranger. Adrenaline irritates her, she likes to avoid it, but the woman definitely feels her heart hammer in her chest at the thought of someone coming over and trying to mess with you.

They seem to get the message, looking between you and her, then hurrying down the street.

Lucidia sighs almost gutturally, and decides you can't be outside for much longer.

The demoness may be tall, yet her footsteps are near soundless. She settles beside you casually on the sidewalk, getting to stare you over again for several moments until you take note of the shadow suddenly cast onto you.

" Hello... " She greets softly and quietly when you appear to startle. " Do you want to sit... Inside? "

While you hesitate to answer, Luci can almost see the sweat starting to form on your forehead.

" ... It'll get dark soon. Things'll... Pick up. "

You don't respond again, some lost 'hum's and 'ha's escaping.

" Your conversation... I heard it. " She doesn't bother to hide a small smile when you pale a couple shades. " So did the whole street... If I had to guess. "

" Oh God- " You murmur under your breath.

" ... Let me style your hair. " She daringly suggests, threading a long-fingered hand through locks of it. " I won't let anyone bother you... "

Anyone but herself, naturally.

If you just so happened to doze off while Lucidia carefully shapes your hair, then who is she not to give you just a little taste of what you so shamelessly crave?

There's no hiding the rumbles of satisfaction when you nod quickly and let her lead you into the hair salon, the chime of a little bell signaling Luci's victory.

[graceisinthelibrary]

Another prompt! If you haven't done it, how about 19?

Thanks for the prompt :-) It's a bit of a stretch, but I think this works:

“Tell me where you are, I'll come and get you.”

Usually this was his sentence. Since she had taken over the role as a blackout warden, she had called him twice for help. 

The first time she had found the fatally poisoned Bingo, the second time her bike had broken down in the middle of nowhere. He had picked her up that night and they had finished her round together and he had been surprised how many blackout offenders lived in and around Darrowby. It had pacified his mind immensely and she was, of course, not happy about it. At least Bosworth, the old grump, had given her a better bike after that incident and Siegfried secretly hated that she had never called him again. 

This time however he had been the one needing her help. 

What he hadn’t anticipated was how quickly she had found him, not on her bike though. It had only taken her fifteen minutes and he figured she must have pushed the engine of the old Morris to its limits. To his surprise, she was wearing her uniform, but no helmet. The jacket, however, looked strangely astray, because she had missed a few buttons and he noticed her flushed cheeks. His pulse became a little unsteady as he watched her approaching him. The stiff breeze up here in the Dales tore at her hair and a few strands had come loose and she was eagerly brushing them behind her ears. The sun was setting behind the hills and the air got chilly. He shivered a bit. 

“Mr Farnon!” She shouted, her voice filled with a worry he couldn’t grasp. “I came as quickly as I could.” 

“Where you out on a mission?” He asked, pointing at her uniform, when she stopped in front of him. 

Perplexed, she shook her head. “You said it’s an emergency. Something about a crash in a field.” She went over to the wall and looked over it.  

He cleared his throat. “Err… Mrs Hall…” 

“There’s nothing,” she said deadpan after she wasn’t sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. There was no crashed plane or any other debris that could be remotely war related. All she saw was a meadow in the endless beauty of the Yorkshire Dales. 

“Siegfried Farnon…” 

“I never said anything about a crashed plane,” he clarified before her wrath could hit him with full force. “I said I had a problem near a field, where I almost crashed.” He pointed at his beloved Rover that stood about ten yards away. The vehicle parked near a ditch. She went back to him and with a heavy sigh she took off her warden bag. “What happened?” 

“One of the tires bursted,” he reported. “But the Rover’s fine, just a bit shaken up. And now I need a lift.” 

She gave him one of her killer looks. One that was reserved for muck on the floor in the kitchen or when she caught him using the Lord’s name in vain. 

“You do know I dropped everything on the spot to come here,” she said, deliberately calm. “I thought you were hurt or worse.” 

“Well…” He swallowed. “I am most grateful to you, but that was a misunderstanding…” In retrospect, he thought, the line had been a bit cranky and he may have hung up the receiver a little too quickly. He also didn’t have any more coins on him, so he had to cut the call short. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“I called Bosworth. He’s on his way. With the whole cavalry.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Feeling awkward he looked to the tip of his shoes. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “Ridiculous creature.” 

He stole a glance from her. She wasn’t as angry with him as she pretended to be. He heard it in her voice. She wasn’t amused, but she was certainly relieved that he was still in one piece. 

“Admit it,” he joked. “You would have loved to play the heroine who saves the damsel in distress.” 

“You’re as much as a damsel as I’m a patron saint. And now get in the car, before I let you walk.”  

Sensing he was back in her good graces, he followed her to the Morris and obediently climbed into the passenger’s seat. As he watched her starting the engine, he couldn’t help but smile. She had dropped everything to rush to his rescue; it was a thought that warmed his heart more than he could say. 

“What’s so funny?” She asked when she saw the broad smile on his face. 

“Nothing.” 

“Mr Farnon…” 

“I just thought how lucky the whole of Darrowby can be to have you as their patron saint. That’s all.” She groaned and shook her head, but didn’t offer a retort. He loved having the last word on the matter. At least this once. 

[wingsdippedingold]

On the wings.

I hate that we have to still have this conversation but so many (white) ACOTAR fans still don’t see an issue with Feyre donning Illyrian wings. I’m absolutely open to criticism and discussion, but if you disagree with what I have to say and happen to be white, I implore you to think of your own biases and think empathetically as to why poc feel this way. I’ve done my best to include real world examples in a tasteful manner to assist that, as well as real arguments I’ve seen and discussed, but we’ll see.

Now let me clarify, this specific part criticism towards her use of Illyrian wings is for SEX, and is more broadly directed to Sarah and the white women who defend the actions rather than Feyre herself. Do not dog pile me for being a Feyre or women hater, that’s not what this is. Okay? Okay.

She could be a paragon of virtue, but as long as the Illyrian women are still suffering under their rule, whether directly or not, it’s still wrong. It’s the equivalent of a white woman in colonial America dressing up as an indigenous woman because her husband thinks it’s hot. The majority of Illyrian women have their wings clipped; you might not think it’s morally wrong to shift into an Illyrian, but it is insensitive.

“What happened to pro-choice? It’s her body!” Okay? Pro-choice does not mean pro-bad-choice. A white woman doing black face isn’t okay all of a sudden just because it’s her body that she’s painting black. “But blackface is demeaning and meant to be derogatory!” Do you not think turning into a specific race for your sexual escapades isn’t demeaning? It’s a fetishization. Do you not think the fetishization of East Asian women by white men and only caring about them in a sexual content isn’t wrong? And before anyone attacks me for applying real world examples to a fantasy land, obviously these aren’t one-to-one, nothing can be when you throw in magic, but they are in the same vein of reasoning.

“But she modeled them after Azriel, her friend.” 1. Azriel is not and was not affected by the plight of the Illyrian women. His permission, opinion, or relation in the matter does not matter. 2. Just because one poc (which in the world of ACOTAR aren’t technically poc, but rather a whole other race, though that’s not the point) says an action is okay, doesn’t make the action is okay to the collective. I mean would you be okay with a white high school boy saying the N-word because his friend gave him a “pass”? Hopefully not. 3. Azriel was her only choice (besides Cassian) to model them after. The women’s aren’t exactly an option…

“It’s not a costume, she’s physically shifting.” If I get surgeries specifically with the intent to look like a different race, physically altering my body, is it all of a sudden not a costume and okay?

Feyre can take her wings on and off, Illyrian women can’t. Feyre can get all the benefits of their livelihood, without any of the hardships.

At the end of the day, the Illyrian women are still suffering, so using a part of the autonomy that’s denied to them will always be inconsiderate and insensitive.

[anneangel]

Aziraphale is not bad or foolish nor stupid in the last 15 minutes of S2. And he is clearly suffering when Crowley didn't agree to go with him to Heaven, that is noticeable to anyone (or so I suppose).

But, in the same way that Crowley is sad about the whole situation (and about Aziraphale's choice), the audience felt the same way (ok, I know Crowley would never hate Aziraphale, while some fans condemned him and hated him a lot after that). But, getting to my point: I believe that, for most of us, Aziraphale is not "the bad", it's just that the entire 15 minutes were played to make us feel more empathy for Crowley.

He is the one we can identify with the most in the 'lover who declares his affection and is rejected'. Meanwhile, the 15 minutes still have Aziraphale saying that heaven 'is the side of the good guys' (something that would consequently be rejected by Crowley and the audience, who would agree with him in 'Heaven and Hell are toxic').

Its much harder to understand Aziraphale's side when the whole scene is played out in Crowley's favor. Aziraphale ends up coming off as the "poor naive" who leaves his love behind in exchange for trying to make Heaven a more decent place.

But listening: I also don't think Aziraphale thinks Heaven is perfect, he has shown that he doesn't always agree with God's plans or ways (he knows not to ask questions, he warns Angel Crowley, he gave his sword to Adam out of pity after the couple was expelled from Eden, he also didn't agree to kill Job's children). Aziraphale doesn't think Heaven is perfect, just that it's better than the alternative (Hell).

You see, both "Crowley book" and "Crowley show" fear the reprisals of Hell. It's not like Hell in GO isn't bad, because it is.

A while back I saw a poll that asked if you would like to be an angel or a demon, most people chose demon, but only because they use Crowley as a parameter, they want to be like Crowley, so they chose demon, but the question wasn't if you want to be Crowley, but a demon. Crowley is an exception, not the rule. Being a demon is not about being like Crowley, Crowley is the gray aspect between the black and white that Heaven and Hell are (he and Aziraphale are the gray aspect).

So Heaven is relatively more pleasant than Hell, that is beyond doubt. I think that when Aziraphale says "it's heaven, the side of the good guys", he didn't mean that it's the side of the "perfect and good", he was just replying that, compared to the alternative (Hell), Heaven was better.

This doesn't mean that Aziraphale support the publicity of heaven: He doesn't understand all the ordinances of Heaven, but he fears that disobedience and associating with demons (Crowley) will lead to his downfall, he feared that he had fallen after the whole "arc of Job". And he has reason to believe that he could fall if he is disobedient, or if he allies himself with "the wicked".

Angels did not fall only with Lucifer, mind you, biblically speaking 1/3 of the angels allied themselves with Lucifer's rebellion and fell with him (including Crowley). But after that there were other falls, before the flood for example, about 200 angels also fell: for having fallen in love with human women, having sex with them, creating Nephlins, and teaching forbidden knowledge to humans, all of this caused evil to be perpetrated on earth and it hence the flood.

So it is possible that an angel can fall at any time, if he does not fulfill the tasks of heaven and associates with the "wrong people".

Aziraphale does not think that heaven is perfect, but falling is still not a better option: Hell is not a better option.

Furthermore, he does not understand or obey all of Heaven's ordinances: he associated himself with Crowley, as well as committing sins (gluttony?), and others things. But he also knows that "running away" from Heaven (as Gabriel did) is not a good option in the long run.

So Aziraphale made the decision he thought was wisest in relation to Metatron, to find out what was happening in the management of Heaven, and trying to change what he believe is wrong.

See, Crowley's plan to run away isn't ideal, it's also naive foolishness.

Crowley would certainly agree with Aziraphale on "hell is toxic", they are in consensus on that. But, see, in the end of S2 Aziraphale and Crowley were both purposely put in a difficult situation, Metatron knew he would separate them by confronting them with a topic they would disagree on: Heaven.

Aziraphale, by saying "Heaven is the good guys' side," claimed to believe in the status quo. As if he believes that Heaven is broken, but can be fixed. But Crowley, by saying that "Heaven and Hell are toxic," doesn't believe they can be fixed, that it are both toxic precisely because it are functioning as it should.

I don't think either Crowley or Aziraphale is wrong, they just have different opinions based on what they believe. They shouldn't have to apologize for that. Aziraphale hurt Crowley, but Crowley also hurt Aziraphale. They're both hurt.

The reaction to Aziraphale was only so antagonistic because, as I said, the audience tends to identify more with Crowley and his idea that "Heaven and Hell are toxic", so they tend to give him more credibility during these last 15 minutes. But he was also wrong in the way he conducted the conversation.

Aziraphale saying that they can both go to Heaven as angels, is like having to accept that there is only Heaven and Hell and they need to join one of them, in the classic "if you can't beat them, join them". On the other hand, Crowley does not believe that it is possible to "join them", he believes that it is only possible to play against the system and outside of it, as an "us".

Only the plot of the sequel will show which one is being wiser (and I really hope the plot doesn't do it in a way that blames and ridicules one of them).

They both ended up saying things, and acting, in ways that hurt each other in S2. But that happens at least once in a couple's life, doesn't it?

So you see, the second season only separated them to bring them back together in the "sequel" in a more epic way (or so I hope❤️).

[omorimodreverie]

Reverie Devlog - 2025 January

Intro

New Year has just passed and now we are in 2025, which also means a new Dev log!

This log is a relatively shorter one in terms of progress made, as the majority of work  happened in November, as December was busy for almost everyone. Instead, part of the focus in this devlog will concern management during times of low activity.

Progress

Main writing properly reviewed

Aside from major cutscenes and dialogue-heavy writing, work was also finalized on any transition scenes that will lead to the next chapter.

Gameplay progress testing started

A lot of things are still missing, but the chapter is playable for the main progression.

Testing was done to ensure that the chapter can be accessed through previous chapter (Ch. 3) save files.

Miscellaneous RPGMV work

Various minor bug fixes, as well as cutscene tweaks.

While no major implementation was done, it still added up to quite a lot of work.

Enemy AI brainstormed and drafted

These are just drafts for now, however, and proper testing with stats will take place later on

What’s Next

As of now, a decent chunk of people in the team are still on a well-deserved break - January will likely not see any major spike in activity. At this point, identifying specific tasks needed to be completed is sometimes tricky, even when a lot of things are obviously missing.

The probable first thing on our task list is simply playing through what we have so far, and looking for anything missing: ranging from technical bugs, to gameplay aspects (communicating where to go next or balancing in battles).

For those interested, at the moment the majority of RPGMV related tasks are hooked on the Github Project of the REVERIE project repository. Even though I was out for over a month, I did manage to list a bunch of tasks requiring completion while playing through in advance. It is likely that something similar will be done for this month as well.

As for a specific list of those tasks (that I can publicly talk about):

Extra optional areas - these are after the main chapter bosses and optional challenges. They tend to be large and have more winding paths, but are only 1-3 maps.

Extra optional fights, similar to above, but specific battles. Chapter 4 will come with a dedicated optional area, unlike the chapters that came before.

Creating and implementing the ending cutscene, though this is pretty much the final thing on the to-do list.

Playtesting and balancing various combat side gameplay.

Making skill animations, if time and resources permit

Final Notes

Overall, the past 2 months have been more lackluster in terms of progress, but that is usual and to be expected during Winter break / New Year (as most people get busy). I myself have been almost completely offline for over a month, so even I need to catch up on the work done so far: that's the reason why this dev log is a bit delayed.

Anyways, as a thanks for reading this far, here's a teaser for a battle theme for The Dungeon area and a preview of a battle gimmick there!

(It might seem a bit strange to separate battle themes for a minor areas; it's a remnant from trying to manage music in advance way back since Chapter 2)

[bananasfosterparent]

I saw some of the Reddit drama regarding the Astarion subreddits (the spawn sub vs. OF) and it's really saying a lot how most Spawn fans care more about AA/AA fans and being free to bash him however they see fit on the main sub, but allegedly the evil moderators are censoring their opinions and are not allowing AA criticism so they are transforming the UA sub into an anti AA one. It's amazing how they don't realize their criticism actually consists in telling AA fans they are abuse apologists who spread misinformation on purpose (the bride theory) and media illiterate lmao. Yeah, I wonder why that's not allowed on the main sub. Perhaps they should reflect on the state of their sub which can be resumed to "I like UA because fuck AA and AA fans".

Heh... funny I got a message about this when I did, because I was quietly observing the drama when it happened. Well, sort of drama. Really, just the usual cliched "anti-AA person must save the igorant AA fans from their own selves via condescending and patronizing vagueposting" situation.

For context... An anti-AA person made posts to a few Astarion and BG3 subs, challenging the validity of the bride theory with zero context or reason, which unsurprisingly fostered negativity and arguments. They had other negative comments on semi-related posts which didn't make their case better. Then they argued with the OF mods about their arguing with other users and was banned after reporting others out of spite.

But looks like the person tried to run to the spawn sub to get validation for arguing with the mods, but I don't think it went very well lol

From what I could observe, they got a lot of downvotes and even comments directly calling them (and their aggression) out. People admitted they joined to gush over Spawn and their Tavs, not seethe over AA and his fans. It was quite refreshing to see. Even moreso, seeing the mods of the sub create a new rule to not dogpile on the mods of other BG3 subs. So perhaps the situation is getting better.

Still strange that "a place to talk about AA as an abuse narrative" is one of the main focus rules of that sub, buuut I'll take the small victories. Any time people are pointing out the AA fan witch-hunt nonsense as what it is (nonsense), it means there's a positive shift happening.

Unfortunately (especially in creative realms), there will always be argumentive people who just want to argue that their vision and perspective is the only one that matters/exists, and they believe it too. But maybe the direct heat on AA fans will die down or... Die out completely (one can wish 😩).

That said! That whole situation makes me wonder...

A gaggle of anti-AA Redditers were suspended from the site for brigading (organized downvoting) of positive AA posts and comments. I'm wondering if the user who made that rant post is one of them with a fresh account. The timeline kinda match up and they bring up the same exact talking arguing points 🤔

Idk, but for now I'm glad to see normal spawn fans speaking up against the anti-AA nonsense finally. I think it's at the point everyone is just getting sick of it lol

[moonsdrs]

JUSTICE IS A WOMAN...LAW AND ORDER DR INTRO.

— the no b.s judge!

alexandria anderson is the homicide unit's forensic psychologist and resident badass. she likes anything that involves fancy eateries, cowboys and...anti romance? self proclaimed romance hater, actually. she hates romance more than a pessimistic munch after his not-girlfriend, felicia, dumped all his shit on the front steps of their not-shared apartment. actually, y'know who she hates more than how much munch hates felicia? her ex-husband, neo! oh..and she *checks notes* likes muffins and iced french vanilla coffee.

— QUOTING alexandria anderson

⟢ - "god..what's that smell?" alexandria gags as she walks into the unit's kitchen. as she discovers the source she grumbles in disdain. "munch, stop ruining our perfectly good beans trying to make coffee! now i have to go downstairs for a cup."

⟢ - "oh, shi—" alexandria's voice is cut off as she collided with a strong chest. as she pulls back she looks up. "oh.." her voice trails off as she stares up at the rookie, tim bayliss, falling head over heals for the taller detective.

⟢ - "do you know why giardello always introduces me as dr. anderson instead of detective?" alexandria's head cocks to the side as she glances over to munch.

— the pessimistic cop!

john munch is one of the most annoying, attention seeking detectives within the whole of the homicide unit. at least, that's what his partner, bolander, describes him as. he likes black coffee, conspiracy theories and well...alexandria anderson. god, don't say that to him out loud! he's gonna deny, deny, and deny until he's red in the face and you recognize that he is not montel williams. huh, you don't know that means? well...just know that he is not montel williams and that's a fact! and you know what's not a fact? that he likes alexandria anderson! ah-hem. and he likes chocolate.

— QUOTING john munch

⟢ - "hey, at least my coffee is better than whatever diabetic concoction you drink everyday, anderson." munch chastised as he snatched the pot of coffee from alexandria's hands.

⟢ - "dr. munch..." bolander says as munch punches away at his typewriter. after the fifth time the name rolls off his tongue, munch shoots him a glare. "dr. alexandria munch." bolander teases again as munch huffs. "i don't like her. why can't you guys let me wallow in self pity about my failed relations without instigating a non existent school boy cru-" munch's voice halts as he hears alexandria's distant laughter and bayliss's hushed tone. "how about dr. anderson-munch?" "shut up!"

⟢ munch sighs as he places his coffee down, tilting his head in such a way that his and alexandria's faces were closer than normal. "because he knows people still see you as less than themselves so he wants to make sure that when they talk to you that they do so with respect."

last minute notes: oh my god, this took so long to do! i started it this morning and finally finished it tonight. if you have any questions about this dr then let me know. expect more about it anyway because i love this dr so so much. okay, bye!

[survivalove]

Sorry i know you don't like getting asks about this topic but it's related to your last post responding to that dumbass zk but it's funny how they keep pushing this false narrative that aang is bryke's self insert, they're clearly projecting cos that's more evident with zuko. like bryan konietzko is on record for saying zuko is his fav character and he's similar to him. dante basco refers to himself as zuko all the time while pandering to those desperate zk shippers and even said in an interview one of the reasons he ships zk is cos he was "into" mae whitman (mind you, she was only 16 and he was 30 when atla began airing)

UGH! don’t get me started on the freak that is dante basco. very nasty that he’s the only cast member that is continuously employed by the creators after the way he’s spoken about teen girls, fictional (mai) and real (mae). lol no pun intended. also lines up with the zuko favoritism you’re talking about ;)

the atla fandom has a very serious problem with logic if you haven’t noticed. the show is allegedly sooooo deep yet all their takes are beyond superficial. exhibit a:

1. aang is a mike self-insert because he’s bald

besides the fact that bryan is the one who can draw and talks about aang’s appearance the most, they cling to this narrative because it’s the easiest to sell to people that don’t know any better. just show people a picture of mike and aang and BOOM! narrative set.

meanwhile, as you said, zuko is the actual character favored by one of the creators out of his own mouth. mike has even gone on to say he used his experiences to write korra alone just like how bryan says he puts himself in zuko’s shoes when he writes episodes.

bryan is the one who joked about mike and aang having two bald heads just to state that aang’s inspiration is based on (tibetan) buddhist monks

bryan is the one who compares aang to mike while comparing himself to zuko. mike has never compared himself to aang unprompted

because the truth is, aang is a survivor of colonialism and genocide, raised outside of western ideals of masculinity. bryke clearly did their research on all the different cultures as creators and that’s commendable and all but ppl acting like that means that erases their caucasian-american perspective is bonkers.

aang can never be a self-insert to them because they are closer to the oppressors than the oppressed and that’s just a fact

zuko, on the other hand, the boy raised in colonial ideals who had to unlearn his wrongs, who is given chance after chance by the narrative despite his direct and indirect participation in colonialism, who is redeemed at the expense of voices of the colonized that he hurt repeatedly on his path to goodness, who is still allowed to have an empire at the end because he saw the error in his ways???

that is the most american you can get on this show and it just shows how most americans that fail to see this never saw themselves as colonizers to begin with. they just want the rest of us to skip to their redemption arc. kinda like how zuko’s arc is discussed by his superglazers lol

but i honestly can’t even just blame americans because a lot of non-american poc in this fandom i see try to push this propaganda as well. like how most of this fandom actually thinks his racist colonizer jokes are funny… or how many fans have been unironically repeating the fire nation’s supremacy logic for DECADES

the second superficial take of course is the “if i was a fourteen year old girl i wouldn’t have even looked aang’s way” thing but that has already been discussed in tandem so i’ll stop typing now

[mitigatedchaos]

Revisiting The Origin

Finished watching Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin again a bit ago. A few thoughts.

The animation quality is fantastic. It's well-shot, written, and paced. The music is spot-on. The plot is moving. It's amazing.

One aspect that stands out more on this viewing is the way each character is intensely his or herself. Every line of dialogue reveals something about the character's nature, and just about none is wasted. The series gives you reasons to sympathize (if only for a little while) with characters like Degwin or Kycillia even though their actions are power-hungry and cause terrible consequences.

Ghiren Zabi especially stands out - he shows an incredibly fluid ability to manipulate ideology, and actually seems to get more skilled at this over time, yet at the same time he's as slippery as an eel. You can easily see how he could get people to follow him, and also how he can figuratively broadcast on the national mental wavelength.

It's actually less political than I remember. For some reason, I thought that there was more content covering the oppression of Spacenoids, the internal factions within Munzo (which became Zeon), and the formation of ideology. There was actually much less oppression of Spacenoids than I remembered, though there is certainly plenty of rioting and sending tanks to suppress riots.

That said, the series is still highly political. This gets into the whole 'politics in media' thing.

The Origin is a sequence of events leading up to a gigantic space war, proceeding through the early phases of the war until right before the first episode of the original 1979 Mobile Suit Gundam (though with a few tweaks). It's a thrilling story of escapes and intrigue and murder and violence!

However, it all generally feels quite natural. A mobile suit may be an absurd form of military unit, but other than this, everything has its proper weight and momentum. It's a story told with great consideration, by someone observant and experienced.

I originally wrote that last line as a guess based on watching the series. The eye with which the author observes the characters suggests a great deal of life experience, and an understanding of individuals, their nature, and their course of development. In fact, there was an interview of the now 77-year-old author Yoshikazu Yasuhiko, who was on the staff for the 1979 original:

It was over 10 years of hard work, but I could depict the outbreak of the war in the prehistory of 'Gundam' and the absurdity of the elitism advocated by the Principality of Zeon to some extent.

He appears to believe that the idea of newtypes was over-emphasized in later series after 1979, resulting in confusion and support for elitism.

Just watching five minutes of one episode of The Origin was enough to help a concept click in a peace theory I have been working on. I don't mean a related episode. I had left it on pause a week or so before, and when I returned, after a few minutes of watching Char and his comrades, it came to me that I could reapply the tension and officer models that I use for ideology.

The Origin has an interesting contrast with Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn, another incredibly dense series set in the Universal Century, set sixteen years after the war that The Origin shows us the beginning of.

Where in The Origin, newtypes are of relatively little importance, in Unicorn, they take center stage. Where The Origin is a story told by an old man who cherishes people, Unicorn shouts at you as loudly as it can. So loudly that it fills your senses. So loudly that you can finally hear.

Between the two, it's my opinion that Unicorn is more dense. I found myself coming back to watch different scenes repeatedly, pause, and then pace and think deeply about the nature of the world.

I recommend both highly. However, I don't know what it would feel like to see either while having no familiarity with the Universal Century timeline.

There was an argument on Twitter probably a year or so ago. Is fiction valuable? I think that depends on which fiction we're talking about, at what time, for whom, and for what purpose.

[ultfreakme]

Okay so.....this is complicated. I'd like to start off by saying, firstly, we are all allowed to write what we please, but we do not hold sway over how art we create is received. Second, there are distinctions in how different art is perceived and the responsibility this art has towards people. Third, all art is political. Fourth, specific to this post, what does "evil" mean in fiction and how does it relate to reality?

You are absolutely free to write a Horde Lord AU! What you include in this up to your judgement and your vision for this. The reason people are often much more critical of original media like Arcane is because of the thing I said in the second point where different art has different levels of responsibility and distinctions in perception.

Fanfiction is fairly niche. You may opt out of reading it if you'd like, there is no pressure to read. But a mainstream show like Arcane is advertised frequently, you really can't avoid or ignore it the way you would a fanfiction. Arcane also has large social impacts. It has kickstarted new forms of drawing and animation, and its storytelling toolkit has been further utilized by others.

The medium is important here, because large-scale corporations and companies can use things like Arcane to push specific messaging and propaganda. We all obviously show our politics to SOME extent in our art, it's impossible to extricate that, but individuals such as fan creators don't have similar influence so even if a fic writer writes something super "problematic", it's fine, because it's an individual creator putting out their art without any urgency for the general population to see it or endorse it. This is important because art can and often has been used to influence political opinions, specifically by corporations.

This difference in the ways in which fanfiction and original media affects the world, and our reaction to story elements in it is because of the above points.

So, yes you can make your lesbians as evil as you want. But a lesbian character in a fanfiction killing everyone and idk, torturing or SA'ing someone would be fine. But put that on the big screen and people will have obvious criticisms because media has often portrayed lesbians as predatory, which in turn propagates lesbophobia. We need to keep in mind this gap.

Now in Arcane, Caitlyn is a cop. She's actually head cop and there are scenes of her brutalizing poor people and their neighbourhoods by gassing them. Her girlfriend Vi is from these poor neighbourhoods, and Caitlyn has told her to her face something along the lines of "your blood makes you as horrible as your sister"(she also once called Vi's people "animals"). Now in fanfiction, this would be questionable but if a reader is uninterested they can just leave if they disagree with this kind of a plot line. It doesn't affect anyone, it doesn't cause waves in pop culture, etc.

But Arcane is HUGE. So if a Cop Character is calling people animals, gassing them, hitting their s/o and they still get their s/o with a happiy ever after and no repercussions- it is deeply political. Defense of Caitlyn for the above actions has stirred a huge wave of racism against a Black character and his VA. People are speaking in rhetoric defending police brutality. The show also neglects prison abuse and SA by ignoring Vi's trauma from being falsely imprisoned.

ALL of these decisions are deeply political when coming from corporation creating a story specifically to sell and audience a product(Arcane as the show, League of Legends as a game). This was not created with the mindset of a singular individual going "what if I explore this idea?" it is a large entity pushing a certain messaging to convince a large audience of a very specific rhetoric.

This is why it's important to be careful and thoughtful to some extent when creating things. Obviously that doesn't mean there is no place for "problematic" or "evil" art, it's just, be aware of the things your art is gonna say. AO3 has a tagging system so we can all go into it with awareness.

And, the idea of "evil". So fictional evil and irl evil are obviously very different. Characters get leeway so long as their story is done well. Irl, murdering hundreds would be bad, but in fiction, no one would care. But, if in fiction a character tortures someone or is a pedophile, people would generally have the same amount of hatred and disgust for the character as an irl person who's done the same. Why? Why do we have these distinctions in crime? That's also deeply political and important to dissect.

Violence has been normalized in media and death as a concept holds different weight in fiction. SA and such are portrayed consistently as horrible and evil, and the nature of these crimes in relation to people vary. Fantasy killing with a giant laser beam or a cool sword is distinctly removed from reality and you can suspend disbelief and that gut reaction people have.

SA, torture, etc, are depicted with a lot more real life connections and thus it feels impossible to separate it from our sentiments in reality.

This is also what happened with CaitVi. Police brutality as it is depicted in Arcane has been inspired by real life police brutality. They used pictures of protests in recent years as references for drawings, and imprisoned the characters in the protests. CaitVi is a harrowingly realistic depiction of a cop character being abusive towards an S/O. In a Horde Lord AU, Catradora are in outer space on a distant planet with magic-tech weapons. SPOP carefully depicts its violence as distantly from reality as possible. CaitVi, does not, and on top of that it tries to make it seem like Caitlyn is the good guy despite all her actions as a cop. This is real. People have experienced this directly and have had their experiences trivialized.

All of these aspects combined led to a disdain for CaitVi. So unless you're like, idk, genuinely writing something with the intent of convincing a large audience that fascism is good, actually, and we as a society irl should all just let any colonizers have at it, you're good.

Does Toxic Yuri have a limit? Genuinely asking here (a potential Horde Lord Catradora AU)

Okay, so for the last while I've been having a kinda exsistential crisis about a particular fic I wanna do. Namely, I want to do my own take on a what if Adora stayed in the Horde AU, aka the Horde Lord AU as some people call it.

I saw another post earlier that was saying that it's obviously okay to have evil characters in a story and whatnot. I'll link it here. https://www.tumblr.com/dovesndecay/760032664866701312?source=share

So like it's clear to me people love their evil, messed up toxic lesbians, right? Except I've been seeing stuff about Arcane on the sidelines and while I haven't seen it yet, I know that some stuff about how the two girls in that show were written and depicted pissed off a lot people.

So is there like some limit on how evil lesbians can actually be in stories that people just don't wanna talk about? Is this just an internet nuance is dead thing?

I've been conflicted about this sort of thing for a while and to be honest I don't really have answer to it. If anyone wishes to chime in and help me out, I'd appreciate it.