#adults. and also i feel like it’s just a common thing in Every fandom that m+f duos get shoved into the ‘sibling coded’ box so that-

[bizlybebo]

not a mockingjay shipper but i support their beliefs cause everyone is so weird about them

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

One of the things which really annoys me about Dick Grayson’s characterisation by both DC and the fandom is how they treat his being Romani (I say this as a gypsy from the circus myself) also before people cancel me for saying gypsy - I am not American and it’s not a slur where I am from. I am a gypsy myself so please don’t freak out about my using this term which feels comfortable and accurate to me

I know this is a common complaint, but being a gypsy or Romani is such a niche ethnic identity, and so often I see people treat it almost like a nationality. For example, the idea that Dick Grayson grew up not knowing English is so bizarre to me… of course he knew English, he may be Romani and speak it, but he is also American. The shopkeeper who he is buying food from doesn’t speak Romani, nor do the local authorities whose permission we need to even put on a circus/fair, so it makes sense that he’d speak English to them. He works in the circus: his family’s livelihood depended on his being able to draw a crowd - if he can’t interact with the people he’s taking the money from, how does he expect to make it in what is essentially a customer service job (I speak from experience here). Also, historically, by the late 18th century, the vast majority of Romani-speaking gypsies also spoke another language as a first language, and by the 20th century, I could argue that this is about 99.99999% of us, if not all.

The other thing I often see is how Dick Grayson is portrayed as being the Bristol-raised kid who doesn’t understand Jason’s Crime Alley upbringing. And yeah, whilst Dick lived with Bruce from a young age, and might (even based on his personality) have a better chance of mixing with the rich kids, let’s not act like Dick didn’t know struggle as a kid. Even if his parents were fairly comfortable economically, he spent at least half the year living in a trailer/vardo, which people associate with being working class. All gypsy kids are taught to fight from a very young age because whenever we pull on somewhere to open (aka put on the show), we expect a hell of a lot of racism from the locals, which often included getting jumped, often by multiple older gadja/gorja/non-gypsy children - and hell, even adults! As well as knowing how to defend ourselves, this also leads to a lot us developing a bit of a defence mechanism wherein we can talk ourselves out of a situation, or endear ourselves to people quickly in the first place so we don’t get fighting (keeping us safe, and keeping us in the good graces of the locals so we can continue earning a living there) - perhaps this could be explored as part of the reasoning behind the famous Dick Grayson charm? Anyway, all this to say, Dick would fully understand what it’s like to be the poor outsider who has to fight at every corner just to exist, and justifying his existence to others who view themselves as his ‘superiors’.

My final complaint is a small one: every single gypsy I know grows up absolutely BELTING Cher’s ‘Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves’ and the fact that I’ve not seen Dick pouring his heart into that song, screaming the words ‘I was born in the wagon of a travelling show’ is honestly a hate crime which must be fixed immediately.

[olderthannetfic]

Hi OTNF and everyone,

I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.

In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.

I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.

Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)

Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).

I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*

I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!

So, uh. Anyone here with me?

--

Yes.

I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.

Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.

Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.

I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.

It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.

I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."

Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.

Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.

--

The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.

If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.

Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.

[blueraith]

"How could Vi not notice her sister is suicidal?!"

I feel like people who ask this question have a fundamentally immature understanding of depression and suicidal thoughts/actions, and how the two affect people OUTSIDE of the person suffering from these conditions. Perhaps you guys are young, and you don't know how to view this matter outside of yourselves and your own perception, but it is tragically common for people to miss seemingly "obvious" details that lead up to a loved one's suicide. "I didn't notice anything was wrong" is about one of the most common refrains you'll hear after the fact.

Let’s also remember that Vi does not actually know all of Jinx's emotional tells or signs of an impending episode. She is confused each and every time Jinx goes through one and almost always unintentionally triggers her. This because it's been SEVEN FUCKING YEARS since they've seen, spoken to, or lived together.

Neither Jinx or Vi actually know the current versions of each other very well, it's one of the reasons they keep hurting each other, and part of the tragedy of their relationship.

Look, I have depression. I've had it since I was about 15 or so. I can recall self-isolating or worse and assuming my parents or friends or a teacher would notice and rush to my aid or something.

Never happened. Because depression isn't always a very obvious condition. People mask in different ways, and not always with the conscious intention to hide their symptoms. Sometimes, people with depression mask simply because it makes it slightly easier to get through the day. Jinx's case would likely be even more difficult to spot because of the manic side of her condition.

I ended up getting the bulk of my care taken care of as an adult. Mostly because I could finally advocate for myself and I also realized that NO ONE is going to notice the more alarming symptoms of my own depression better than me.

This is not to say that you can't have a support network. Or that members of that support network WON'T spot something you've overlooked from time-to-time.

But Vi is not Jinx's support network. (Arguably Sevika is far better placed for that.) She might have gotten there eventually if Act 2 hadn't ended the way that it had, but that dream of the sisters being able to recreate their lost family was shattered and the progress they were making in getting to know each other halted at Jinx's realization that she needed to leave for Vi to move on.

I don't know, it's like some of you expect everyone in your lives or in other, unrelated media to have a 13 Reasons Why style reaction any time someone shows symptoms of suicidal thoughts or actions, or when one occurs. This is almost an absurd thing to expect out of anyone unfamiliar with what depression or suicidal thoughts actually look like. Like, if you're American, this idea that everyone everywhere is familiar with what a mental health crisis looks like is even more tragically farcical because we can't even admit that poor mental health is an aspect of mass shootings here as a society and culture.

And y'all expect the ex-con stuffed into a box since the age of 15 or so to be able to just instantly spot that her sister--again whose symptoms she's very obviously not familiar with--is going through a crisis event?

Like, damn, no one in this fandom is cut more slack than Jinx, and this entire criticism of Vi makes that more clear than any other. It's a position ironically devoid of any and all empathy, probably because y'all spent it all on Jinx, and assumes a sort of selfishness and coldness towards Vi that is in no way, shape, or form supported by canon.

It's honestly an argument that I dismiss entirely the moment a person attempts to make it. Largely because I am exhausted of how hypocritical this aspect of the famdom becomes towards Vi. Jinx's actions are a large part of the reason Vi sinks into alcoholism. She then proceeds to taunt Vi about it in the mines as if Vi's pain is nothing to her.

I NEVER hear anyone talk about that. It's almost always about how Vi should have done better. How Vi hurt Jinx. How Vi wasn't good enough.

It's some Grade A, Bonafide Bullshit™

Vi and Jinx were never going to ride off into the sunset together. If that is something you thought was going to happen and are now irrationally blaming Vi for because you're disappointed....? I don't know what to tell you. I personally thought it was pretty obvious that they were Doomed Siblings in this storyline and any potential, permanent reconciliation between them may happen in some far off sequel project or not at all.

[musicalmoritz]

The common misconception that Akane has no personality outside of Aoi is a sign of immaturity among many fans, in my opinion. This isn’t really their fault, seeing as the majority of the tbhk fandom is on the younger side, but it’s still something that should be noted

When people say this, they are talking about his hobbies. It’s true that every hobby Akane has is something he started to impress Aoi. I’m of the firm belief that he stayed on the Student Council because he enjoys it but that’s slightly up to interpretation (it could also be a way for Teru to keep an eye on him). However, in general, Akane doesn’t seem to have much going on outside of Aoi. His favorite food is something he imagines her baking for him, he joins clubs based on what type of guys she shows interest in, the books he reads all have a character that shares her name, and when she asks him what he enjoys, his response is “I like you, Aoi.” He’s even shown to zone out of conversations when Aoi isn’t mentioned. This is clearly unhealthy, though he does eventually learn to give her some distance which is beneficial to the both of them. But he still doesn’t seem to actively engage in hobbies that have nothing to do with Aoi

This is a consistent character flaw, but it does not mean Akane has no personality or character outside of Aoi. This is where the immaturity bit comes in, kids want to describe themselves entirely based on their interests. With the rise of fan culture and the internet, many adults do the same. It’s not just a young people problem, it’s an issue of how we identify ourselves. We like to put people into categories, understanding them based on their hobbies and careers. These are very important elements of identity, but they aren’t everything. A person with no job and no hobbies is still a person. They might struggle due to having no outlet for their creativity, but they are a person nonetheless

Fandoms notoriously love to understand characters based on their niche interests. Aoi is a gardener, Hanako loves the moon, Nene plays idol games, Teru has a very sad life. These are absolutely elements of their characters, but there’s more to them than their hobbies. They have personalities too, goals and passions outside of what they do in their free time

Akane puts his all into helping others, he takes his Student Council duties very seriously and keeps his hands full during every school event. He is a very empathetic character, able to understand characters like Aoi, Teru, and Nene without them having to tell him what they need. He’s competitive, as seen in his friendship with Teru. He’s romantic, as is the driving force of his character (and romance is a perfectly acceptable goal, marriage is one of the most common things for a person to strive towards in life). He’s violent and overprotective, striking down any man who makes Aoi uncomfortable. He’s emotional, prone to fits of joy, anger, and tears. He’s easily annoyed and carries a chip on his shoulder, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to help people. He hates supernaturals because of how they hurt others, and despite his stance as a School Mystery, he is so painstakingly human. He can be aggressive, especially when someone he loves is trying to do something self-destructive. He cares so deeply for people, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He’d stay up all night playing video games if it made the girl he loves happy, but he won’t attack Teru for having genuine feelings for her. He’s incredibly loyal. He’s also casually bisexual so there’s that

Idk there’s just so much more to Akane’s character than people give him credit for, I didn’t even cover everything. Remember when you’re analyzing a character, it’s important to look deeper than “they enjoy this” or “this is their job.” Akane may devote so much of his life to Aoi, but he is still his own person, whether he realizes that or not

I am begging ya’ll to stop throwing the “no character outside of Aoi” allegations at this man

[britts-galaxy-brain]

I get going after a person that specifically groomed and abused you. (I think that’s what you’re stating happened?) I was also groomed as a child by people online in fandom spaces and I feel a lot of things about that including anger. But that’s the thing, my abusers were cis women. In the MLP fandom alone the entire “brony” dynamic was just so deeply fucked up in the way adults of all genders interacted with teenagers.

But you kept focusing on *specifically* and more or less *only* trans fems. Even if that was accidental in someway at first, this pattern is something that was possible for a reason. Transmisogyny within society makes it easier. Like Mio has literally nothing to do with Lily Orchard. Mio is questioning the way you and others have spent so much time and energy, combing through every aspects of many other trans women’s existence in an obsessive and upsetting way. A big part of transmisogyny is the immense scrutiny all trans fems live under, and you turned it up to 11. Offhanded and out of context screenshots that transmisogyny exempt people would be given the benefit of the doubt about, does not happen for trans women. When people fill in their own context they tend to fill it in ways that shape trans women into villain along the lines of transmisogynystic tropes. (Pedophilia accusations are a common one.)

This isn’t black and white. I don’t know everything so I can’t say where everyone you dug into exist within the gray. However you have to see the gray. You can block, you can say on your discord “hey maybe avoid this person”, there are so so so many steps before callouts need to happen if you think someone is gross or creepy. You don’t need to always need to elect yourself judge jury and executioner.

Are you fuckin serious? Have you been living under a rock??

So first off, you're saying it's my fault that the random ass predators who happened to stick their nose in this happened to be trans women. What am I supposed to do at that point? Ignore evidence of abuse toward minors just because of the demographic they fell into??

The one cis dude I had a run in with ages ago that got exposed for being a predator was in the process of being reported to the authorities before I knew he'd even done anything and not a damn soul was out here openly defending him and claiming calling out his grooming of an underage teenager was anything other than what it was. Same with Toonkritic. Now explain to me the double fucking standard I've had shoved in my face for YEARS now regarding literally any trans woman who has evidence of being predatory? They could outright STATE "I Am Attracted to Minors" (Poppy, Hypnotist Sappho, Patricia, Lily Orchard) and pointing out their own words INEVITABLY leads to a mob of obtuse reactionary fucks screaming about transmisogyny. They could openly and gleefully flirt with minors IN PUBLIC (Lily Orchard, Hypnotist Sappho) and pointing out that's fuckin predatory leads to the same mob of reactionary fucks screaming about transmisogyny. They could end up DATING THE MINORS THEY PUBLICLY GROOMED AS SOON AS THEY ARE LEGAL (Lily Orchard) and again the same reactionary fucks screaming about transmisogyny.

I'm out of patience with it. You utter fucking malicious morons are indirectly conflating calling out BLATANTLY PREDATORY BEHAVIOR as being transmisogynistic. You are essentially implying that predatory behavior is an intrinsic part of being transgender and I DON'T THINK MOST TRANS PEOPLE WOULD BE HAPPY WITH THAT ASSERTION. I don't see this shit on anywhere near the same level when it's cis people getting exposed. Cis women predators often pull the misogyny card but it doesn't get them near as far as what I've seen with the transmisogyny angle.

You are doing SO much more fucking harm to the communities you pretend to care about by jumping to the defense of CHILD PREDATORS and trying to frame it as a transmisogyny issue.

Fuck. Off.

[messiahzzz]

You’re one of the most annoying people on this site. And that really says A LOT because WOW! Shut the Fuck up about Gale wanting to be a father or not. He never says that he doesn’t want to be one. You projecting things onto him doesn’t make it Canon.

on a serious note: i’m certainly not the one that continuously brings up this topic unprompted. i personally really don’t understand the entire controversy around the topic or why fandom feels the need to rehash this conversation almost weekly. i truly believe that there’s nothing more of value to learn from it, to address, or add to it… yet fandom won’t let it rest.

to once again clarify: what i mean by “gale wanting to be a father isn’t canon” is that there is no evidence/neither hints anywhere in any of the dialogue that support the contrary. characters like h*lsin, w*ll and la*’zel have entire adoption subplots. all of them mention their children explicitly during the epilogue:

narrator: *your soul warms thinking of lily aurora ravengard, your adopted daughter. a treasure of a girl, found at the entrance of the open hand temple - one grey eye, one brown.* w*ll: ah, the girl could melt the staunchest heart. she might even have brought a smile to old withers' face! w*ll: but tonight is for us - and lily's only four months of age, besides. i promise, the temple will keep her in good care.

player: and our little hatchling? is he safe? la*'zel: of course. i have complete trust in our newest allies. xan is in fine hands tonight. la*'zel: what a wonder he is. he will be a fine warrior, if he chooses. or a poet, or an explorer, or a scholar.

h*lsin: being away from it... i cannot help but worry how they will fare in our absence. player: we'll be back before they know it. h*lsin: i hope so. the children shall miss their bedtime tale tonight - though perhaps i can glean a few new stories from our friends here, to make up for it.

even shad*wh*art has a line where she briefly mentions that children might be a possibility for her in the future.

shad*wh*art: and i get to see my parents almost every day - i need to make every moment with them count, after so much was stolen from us. but they're doing well, [...] shad*wh*art: who knows? perhaps they'll have grandchildren before long.

gale in comparison? he has none of that. he remains childfree during the entirety of the game + epilogue. in fact, his line in the epilogue that addresses the topic of grandkids is this one:

tara: this is why mrs. dekarios and i will be waiting an eternity more for grandchildren. nodecontext: self-pitying gale: psst! shoo, tara. nodecontext: shooing away tara like one would a naughty cat.

i already wrote a post about this entire discourse here [x] but to repeat myself once more: all of the dialogue that vaguely addresses the topic of children in any way in regards to gale are these snippets

player: gale… how would you feel about having another person in our relationship? gale: what, like a child? i’m not quite sure i’d consider myself father material, plus our current lifestyle isn’t exactly what i’d call settled…

gale, upon spotting oliver during their game of hide and seek: ah, i have you! just a shame i don’t want you.

gale treating the children the group comes across with respect isn’t an indicator either. this is a courtesy gale extends to everyone he meets. he’s a character that approves of a protagonist who systematically commits good deeds. whether it’s sparing animals, helping without compensation in mind, or aiding children. wanting children to be cared for… and you know… for them not to die is common etiquette that every adult should extend to a child in need. those are not “dad goals!!!” it’s quite literally just basic human decency. gale is genuinely kind and caring to everyone he meets, there is no reason why this also wouldn’t apply to children.

i often see fandom mention his encounter with mol at last light and how excited he is to talk to her. which i think greatly misinterprets the context of the scenario since he didn’t have much of a reaction to mol before either — gale is ecstatic about lanceboard. again evident by his reaction to the party finding the life-sized board during the wyrmway trials, and how he immediately offers to give tav pointers. explaining different approaches to them in enthusiastic detail if they allow him to. the man just really likes lanceboard… as well as being the smartest person in the room.

gale: ah, lanceboard! why, this might just be the highlight of our misadventures to date.

gale: lanceboard happens to be a game with which i have more than a passing familiarity. might i offer a suggestion? nodecontext: gale's a badass lanceboard player, anticipating showing off

if you want to headcanon your tav and gale raising a big family together that is more than fine and no one is stopping you. whatever you want to happen to these two after the storyline of the game is up to your respective fantasies. no one is policing you on what you should do with your own character. go wild and create whatever fan content you wish, no justification required.

yet once again, as there is no mention in canon anywhere — neither in the main game nor the epilogue — that this is something gale would ever want (whether that may mean immediately or somewhere down the line) gale wanting to be a father remains a headcanon. while gale being childfree is explicitly shown in the game, in strict comparison to other companions that either have children by the end of the game or voice the desire to (eventually) have them.

my personal preferences are of no relevance here whatsoever. i care about accurate and correct characterization and will point out inconsistencies/false information no matter the topic. i, for one, want to appreciate these characters in the way they're written, not how i ideally want them to be.

[ruukina]

WOLFISH

FANDOM: final fantasy xvi PAIRING: clive rosfield x reader ( gender neutral, afab ) RATING: explicit / 18+. minors dni. SUMMARY: After an exhausting week of running around Valisthea, you return home with your heart full and missing a certain outlaw. What you find upon your return is different... but not unwelcomed. WARNINGS: slightly rough sex, dirty talking, breeding kink, implied heat cycle. WORD COUNT: 7.7k

A/N: yeah i'm fairly down bad for this man. i normally don't write reader fics but i'm trying to expand my horizons so. here we are. gotta feed myself in this economy right?? expect more ffxvi stuff, whether its reader insert or other shit because the brainworms are very bad.

read on ao3!

It’s a silent ride back to Hideaway, as it always is on these solo missions of yours.

It’s not a common thing, but every so often you find yourself having to run around all of Valisthea with the job of making payments and collecting orders from the many kind souls that have been helping the cause that even keeps your personal home afloat. In fact, you could even say as Cid’s personal advisor, this was your main job; Otto was busy running the Hideaway and keeping it in check, so the job fell to you when you weren’t tailing after the man you worked under.

You also didn’t mind it, because it meant you had some time to yourself. You had the wind at your back, the smell of sea water to keep you company, and you could be in your thoughts alone.

Usually you didn’t mind it, at the very least. 

It’s not a long task to do or even a hard one, in fact you’d argue that most of your time spent there is arguing with the likes of Martha and Isabelle and even L’ubor to accept the gil that Cid himself has offered to give them, but this month’s mission of yours was different. It seemed like a certain boss of yours had racked up a few requests and the people he graciously helped either wanted to give him a reward or send a letter to ask for more help. And since you were unfortunately playing messenger, it meant that you were basically running around and doing his job… in the sense of gathering the requests and gifts, of course.

So, you were being a little delayed in returning. You made sure to send a Stolas, to let everyone know you weren’t dead - just incredibly busy.

But now you finally found yourself on the ferry back home and you were impatient to get back. Excited to get back to everyone, excited to finally be returning after about a week of having to travel by Chocobo to get to everywhere.

Excited to return back to him.

“Hey, Obolus, are we almost there yet?” You peer over to the ferryman, the wind wilding through your hair.

Obolus didn’t even look back at you, as he ‘tsks’ in response. “We’ll get there when we get there. Asking every five seconds won’t make the boat go any faster.”

You scrunch your nose at him, but he did unfortunately have a point. The trip usually never feels so long, but after being away for what seems like months, you were just anxious to get back and rest your feet. The silence of the ride passes, with only the sound of waves pressing against the exterior of the boat. 

You lean against the side and take the chance to reflect on all that’s happened. All that you’ve experienced. 

All that you’ve done.

You don’t really remember when you became Cid’s advisor. It’s had to have been years at this point, you remember only barely being what one would call an adult. You were a bearer without a brand, hiding your magic behind crystals. It’s what your father had taught you, to protect you from the cruel world you were born in. You were cursed, your mother refused to even acknowledge your existence - even more so after the death of your father. You only lived the way that you did because your mother loved your father more than she loved you, and made your father take care of you.

Your father never gave up on you. An idealist in a world of realists, he really thought you could be the one to change the world. 

He set himself up for failure, you bitterly had thought when news of his death arrived at your doorstep. He died for a cause he believed in, sure, but now he expected you to carry on that torch for him. And maybe there was a part of you that wanted to fight for a better world than the one you were handed, for those like you. You weren’t really sure what your true feelings were at that time.

There was one thing you did know, however; you knew you weren’t safe in your mother’s care, so you ran the day after your father’s passing and never looked back. You’re not even sure if your mother is even still alive or if she even misses you. Did she start anew, start all over with someone else and have a child she could be proud of?

As the years went on, you found that you didn’t even care. You can’t remember her face anymore.

You were crafty, a trickster, because that’s what kept you alive. Somehow, your paths with Cidolfus Telamon crossed. Not just once or twice, but five times. Four times, you rejected his appraisal and invitation to join him.

On the fifth path crossed, and the day he saved you from death, you finally joined him. You didn’t really expect to stay long in Hideaway, only thinking you would spend a few weeks or even a month before you jumped ship. You never stayed in one place for long, because it was always too dangerous for you to attach yourself to people. But everyone was so kind, so nice to you, and welcomed you with open arms. 

Especially Cidolfus.

You clung to him a lot, maybe because despite only meeting him five times he was the only person you really knew, and somehow you managed to become his advisor with your skills and your ability to pull him back to the ground. Otto was against it at first, not because he didn’t like you, but you were barely an adult. Yet, Cid had smiled and patted you on the shoulder, telling Otto that there was more to you than meets the eye.

It’s much more than what your mother gave you. Worthless, unneeded, dirty, sinful - that’s all that she had called you. Your own father would try and raise your spirits, but her words were sharp as a knife and they cut wounds in your wrists. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and you stayed. You stayed with the people who would become your family.

One day, Cid left with Goetz and the wolf he ( or rather, charon ) cared for, because of rumors of Shiva’s Dominant finally rising in a place where he can finally catch her, to give her the freedom she needed. He came back with Goetz carrying a girl on his back, and a branded man with the wolf practically attached to his hip.

Clive Rosfield.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but the man before you would change your life completely.

Cid introduced you to him, asking you to watch over him and help him adjust to the Hideaway. It’s almost funny to think about, because despite Clive’s grumblings about ‘not staying long’ ( words that echoed in your head as familiar, because you had said the same thing ), when you finally got track of him again, he was out helping the people of Hideaway. 

You made a joke about that and he quickly looked away, some colour on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It was a cute sight, unsightly for a rugged man like him. Despite his appearances, he was kind and soft, albeit a bit cynical from the hardships he faced in his life. Then you ended up helping him help people, because there wasn’t much to do at that time and you needed to stretch your legs, and that’s how Cid decided on his great idea to make Clive your personal assistant.

Clive then realized when Cid told him you ran him ragged, he meant it, because once Cid assigned Clive to you, it didn’t take you long to get him working because as long as someone could move, they could work. But of course, you joined Clive on his journey to help him out. Some days you had to stay at Hideaway but for the most part, you were at his side alongside Cid. 

You and Clive bonded together. Quick whips with one another, long nights together trying to figure out your next course of action with the Mothercrystals and how to save Valisthea, and slowly he became someone you… well, liked, essentially. You don’t exactly make friends with people, because you’ve never really had the chance to do so, but somehow Clive stabbed his way into your life and heart. 

He became softer with you, and you did too. You found it was easy to smile with him, to laugh with him, to love him. It scared you, because Clive was a Dominant - the second, mysterious Eikon of Fire, and yet something so much more than that. It was basically a target on your back, even more so than the relationship you had with Cid.

But you found that you couldn’t stop loving him, that you would endure the burning world for him. Maybe that scared you more.

He held you when you sobbed and broke down over Cid - the first time your mask of being strong ever cracked. You hated it, you hated being weak, because Cid didn’t need weak people helping him. Cid needed someone who could put themselves back together, but this time you couldn’t. The pieces of you were scattered all over the floor like glass and every time you picked one up, you cut your hand and let the blood drip from your wound.

Yet, Clive held you. He held you close, he didn’t judge you, because he was crying alongside you. Cid meant so much to everyone, including him. You sat in his arms, and he didn’t leave until he knew he could leave you alone without worrying over you. His gentleness contrasted his roughened up look, he looked at you so softly and filled with fondness towards you. He was not afraid to help pick up the pieces, even if it meant cutting his hands in the process. 

He put you back together, and he didn’t complain about it. Not even once.

Your relationship with him bloomed. Your friendship with him became something new, something else. It was a dangerous love, because of who Clive Rosfield is - what he is. Yet, you never swayed. You never faltered.

No matter what, he’s Clive to you.

But in public, he is Cid and you are Cid’s advisor - like you always were. You two were professional on the outside, only sneaking away to shed those titles when you had enough time to. You didn’t get those chances a lot, but when you did he made sure to treat you like you were a deity. You’ve had lovers in the past, but they never made you feel like Clive made you feel. He made you feel loved, appreciated, cared for. You took care of him, but he always took care of you in return. He never simply just took, he always gave back.

No wonder you were anxious to get back to him; you’ve missed him dearly.

“We’re approaching the Hideaway!”

The ferryman’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You open your eyes, quickly looking towards the horizons. Even in the blackest of nights, with the moon being your only light, you could see the shape of the broken down airship that you and everyone else called home. You could feel the smile creeping on your face.

“I’m home,” you whisper.

To who exactly? Not yourself, but to the man who was waiting for you.

You thank Obolus for the ride home as you step off of the boat, quickly rushing up the stairs. Most people had turned in for the night so there were only a few souls still haunting the Hideaway, and they offered their greetings to you and a cheery ‘welcome back, advisor!’, to which you returned with a smile.

You feel a little silly rushing through the halls, like an eager child, but you were happy to be home. 

You were happy about seeing him again.

You skid to a stop when you reached your destination. The Tub and Crown was a bit of a ghost town around this time, but you knew there were still a few people aside from Maeve haunting the area.

And you weren’t wrong. There sat Gav and Jill, with Torgal laying at Jill’s side. The hound lifts his head up at the sound of your footsteps, and once he lays his eyes on you he quickly stands up and rushes over towards you with a happy sounding bark. Since becoming Clive’s partner, Torgal never really left your side either. If he wasn’t with his owner or Jill, he was shuffling at your hip and following you around.

“Torgal!” You greet happily, kneeling on the ground to pet him and spoil him with some treats you carried on hand once you got close enough to where the two sat.

The two break from their conversation to see what Torgal was barking at, both of them greeting you with a smile on their faces.

“Well, if it ain’t our favorite advisor!” Gav slams his drink down. He looks you over, peering at the basket of gifts and requests at your side - all for a certain someone. “Talk about bein’ fashionably late. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said almost everyone in Valisthea was keepin’ you away.”

Jill nods her head in agreement, cupping her own chin to look over the heavy basket. “It sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure yourself.”

“Oh, it was the same ol’ stuff I deal with everyday. Just this time everyone in Valisthea caught wind that Cid’s advisor was in town and decided to make it their problem.” You rub Torgal’s belly, to which the hound accepts with happy pants. 

Speaking of the aforementioned man… You look to the side of Gav. No handsome brooding man there. 

You look to the side of Jill. No handsome brooding man there, either.

“Where is Clive?” You stop petting Torgal for a moment. “I figured he would be hanging out with you.”

Gav rolls his eyes a little, both good naturedly but also in some slight annoyance. “Went right to his chambers to work on things when we got back. He’s been in a bloody mood all week.” The scout holds up a finger. “Scowlin’ more than usual, more antsy than usual, tappin’ his foot while he waits at the door.” Every reason is met with a finger going up. “Not like everyone is afraid of him here, but it felt like we had to walk on eggshells around him. Even Charon was tryin’ not to rib him so hard.”

You blink a little, a brow raised. “Has the missions been going poorly or something?”

“Fuck no,” Gav shakes his head in response. “Everything’s been going smoothly. He’s just been actin’ like a shite.”

“He hasn’t been that bad,” counters Jill. Though, there’s a slight pause of hesitation from her. “But Gav isn’t wrong, he has been in a bit of a mood. More than likely, he was just worried about you.”

Worried about you? It’s not like you can’t handle yourself, and you’ve definitely been on missions longer than a week without him. You can’t help but scrunch your nose in thought - as always, when you’re thinking hard. Something was up with him, clearly.

Jill reads you like a book, with a smile on her face. “He’s still up, last time I checked. He’s burying his nose in reports as to distract himself. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the visit from you.” She stands up from her seat, as Torgal also rolls over and trots back to her side. “I’ve got some work to do with Tarja, but it was nice seeing you tonight.”

You nod your head, standing up and dusting yourself off. “Tarja, huh? Try not to stay up too late with her, alright?” You laugh a little when Shiva’s dominant huffs softly at your teasing, giving you just a gentle nudge in return. The two of you have gotten quite close over the years, and she was supportive of you and Clive. You felt like you could sigh in relief at that, that you didn’t have to worry about Clive’s childhood friend coming after you.

Gav finishes his drink, standing up as well. “I’m turnin’ in for the night.” He pats your shoulder with a grin on his face. “Make sure you give our leader a nice, warm welcome!”

He only grins harder seeing your cheeks turn red like a tomato at the implication of his words, and Jill’s soft laughter only makes you turn ever redder. Ah, there was your punishment for teasing Jill. The three of them make their way out of the alehouse, your eyes following them as you think about your conversation.

He’s in a mood.

What could he be in a mood about? You’ll have to do some digging, which isn’t hard - if there’s one thing Clive is with you that not even a sour mood could change, it’s that he was honest with you. It’s one of his best traits, really, that he’s open with his feelings and doesn’t usually shy away from speaking his mind about certain things. It’s not always easy, because there are some things he keeps to his chest, but for the most part communication is always important between you two. You pick up the basket of gifts and quickly make it to the end of the hall, where Clive’s chambers were.

And well, they were technically your chambers too, you think with the heat growing at your cheeks once more.

Shifting the basket a little, you use your free hand to knock on his chamber doors - once, twice and thrice.

“The door’s unlocked.” Clive’s low voice fills your ears. He already has you sighing and letting out a quivering breath. Founder, you’ve missed him.

You open the door with a smile on your face. You take in the sights before you - his room is as you left it, with the man himself seated at the desk. He seems to be burying himself in his usual reports and paperwork, just as Jill said. He didn’t even lift his head upon you entering.

“Guess who.” You smile, as you close the door behind you.

The sound of your voice has Clive immediately lift his head from his work. Cerulean eyes widened, the quill he was using drops from between his fingers and clattering on the desk.

“You’re back.” He sounds almost breathless. His chest raises a little as he breathes in and out, those cerulean eyes of him looking a lot more puppy-dog than usual.

This was different, indeed.

You walk towards him, placing the basket on the edge of the desk not covered in scattered papers. “Just got back. Gifts for you by the way, I was hunted down by weary souls who wanted to give their thanks to the so-called Cid the Outlaw.” You peer at him with a gentle, loving smile on your face.

He laughs a little in response, a rare smile forming on his own features. “No wonder you’re late. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to pen my thanks to them soon.”

You shake your head at him. “Oh, don’t even start with the apologies. It’s my job to aid you, it’s kind of in the title.” A pause, shifting your feet a little as you hold your hands behind your back, shyly. “And… you know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

The words you whisper made him smile a little more. “You have perfect timing. I’m actually finishing up and I could use your advice.” He nudges his chair back a little, gently patting his thigh. 

For a moment, you stare with a tilted head, until you realize the implications. Your cheeks turn red.

Oh, he’s inviting you to sit there.

Oh, this was different, indeed.

But you don’t hesitate or falter at all. You take a seat on his thigh, leaning against him. One of his strong arms wraps themselves around your waist, pulling your body flushed against his. The position is a little embarrassing, you have to admit to yourself, but it feels warm, comforting - loving. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into place, flipping through the letters and offering your advice and help to him.

It also doesn’t take long for Clive to stop paying attention. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His hot breath tickles your skin, a shiver running down your spine, as his fingers draw circles in your hip. His lips ghosts around your skin, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your neck as though he was whispering forbidden words in your skin. The quill from his fingers once again falls onto the desk, the reports forgotten about as his attention shifts to you. It’s hard to focus when he’s like this, so you decide to also forget about the many papers that littered his desktop.

“Jill and Gav told me you were in a mood.” You finally shift the conversation to what was really on your mind.

Clive only offers a grunt at first. “I’m not really in a mood.”

“Are you? You’re acting a little differently tonight.” Your fingers run through his hair, out of his eyes. “What’s on your mind, Clive? You know you can tell me.”

For a moment, he hesitates, but he knows he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. You know he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He pulls you close to him, finally lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“I was fine when you left, but after a day, it felt like there was a pit in my stomach.” Clive runs his fingers up and down your hip. “Hunger, I suppose, is the best way to describe it.”

“Hunger?”

“I felt like I couldn’t focus with you gone. It was worse when I was here alone. Your scent was so much stronger than it usually was…” Clive recounts, averting his gaze for a moment from slight embarrassment, but he quickly focuses back on you. “The more days you were away, the more the hunger grew.”

“And the grouchier you got?” You tease him, though your tease was cut short and replaced with a slight yelp when he pinches your thigh with a huff.

“I wasn’t grouchy.” He counters, but his tone of voice sounds like he’s not exactly fighting the accusation.

You think about what he’s said, though. A hunger he felt for you. It started happening when you first left. He found that your scent was stronger than normal, even when you weren’t there. The symptoms sounded fairly familiar to you, and you hummed a little in thought as you ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned in delight at that, leaning into your touch and burying his face in the crook of your neck once more.

“Maybe you’re going through a rut?”

Clive lifts his head up. “A rut? I’m not a dog, love.”

“I mean, you travel with a dog, you constantly have a permanent puppy-dog eyes look on you and you turn into a dog-lizard thing. You’re kind of dog-adjacent.” You shrug cheekily, with an equally cheeky smile on your face. “But I’m serious about the last thing. We don’t know a whole lot about Ifrit. Maybe it’s going through some kind of rut or something and it’s affecting you. It is springtime, you know. Maybe nature is just setting course for Ifrit, too.”

It’s a pretty plausible theory. Clive stops to think about it for a brief moment, his breath tickling your neck once more as you sigh. Still, he says nothing at first and pauses his movements, until he looks right back up at you, his gaze meeting yours.

“You do realize the implications of your theory, right?” His pupils are blown out, more than usual. His strong, calloused hands grip your hips, shifting you a little so your lower half is flushed right against his.

Oh, there’s something pressing against you. Your body warms up, a heat and ache pooling right in your core. 

You didn’t realize how much you miss his body pressing against yours in such a sinful manner, until he rolls his hips against yours in want and need.

“I meant what I said,” you begin to say, your hands gripping to his shoulders as you slowly grind against the bulge in his pants, meeting his hips’ movements. You couldn’t help but grin a little when he moaned lowly, a sound just for you. “You know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

That’s all you’re able to get out at that point, because once you give him permission to do what he needs to do, Clive’s lips press against yours. It was only a sweet, soft kiss for a for seconds at best, because it quickly turned into something fierce, hungry. His tongue prods against your lips, wanting access into your warm mouth, and you gladly part your lips for him, because you need him as much as he needs you. Your tongue presses and swirls against his - it’s a small battle for dominance you never win, but you know he likes a small challenge. His own tongue presses and pins yours, until you ease away to let him completely take the reins.

The kiss is hot, wet, truly sinful. His hands grope everywhere he could, mostly squeezing at your thighs and hips with his fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh until they found their way to your rear. Squeezing and grabbing, groping in such a way that would make you flustered had you not been needy with your own arousal, he lifts you up as though you’re made of nothing but feathers, and truly you’re a little limp in his grasp. Clive’s strength always managed to make you feel dizzy, in a good way, and that doesn’t change here. He pushes his chair back, leaving the desk and the many reports he still has to do in the dust and makes his way towards his bed - your shared bed.

He only breaks the kiss to place you down on the mattress, gentle pants leaving both of your lips as a string of saliva connects the two of you. It breaks as he pulls away a little more, only to dive back in and press fluttering, wet kisses to your neck. Just like the kiss from before, it turns into something a little more hot and brutal; his lips suck at your skin to give it a bruising mark, teeth sinking into your flesh to draw just a little bit of blood from you. You groan hotly, your fingers gripping at his dark locks as your hips jolt upwards. Clive licks and kisses at the bruise and bite mark he left, panting gently against your flesh.

“You still taste so, so good.” Clive whispers into your skin, as his hands tug right at your shirt. He tries his best not to rip it, but unbuttoning your shirt during these kinds of acts was never exactly a cleanful tact, because you can already see a few buttons pop off just from him ripping it open. You chuckle a little; some things really don’t change.

Your chest is bared to him, and Clive wastes no time in pressing gentle kisses on naked skin. Trailing down, he kisses, licks and sucks on any skin he could latch himself onto and sinks teeth into your sink that leaves behind a delicious sting of pain, until finally reaching your left breast. Your breath hitches a little as his tongue swirls around the nub of your nipple, the hitched breath morphing into a needy moan once his lips latch around it to give it a gentle suck. His fingers tease and play with the unattended one, his attacks on you relentless and cruel - cruel in the sense he never slowed down.

“Clive.” you whine with a high-pitched voice, trying your best to roll your hips against his. But he doesn’t let you, pinning you down with just his pelvis. He lifts his head up, a smirk on his face.

“Just lay there and let me make you feel good,” whispers Clive. The way his low voice sounded so commanding, you can’t help but obey him. He was always like this, though; he was always chasing for your pleasure and never his own. He loved you, he wanted to make you feel good. It was never really fair! But at the same time, it truly was nice. He was so different from lovers you had in the past, who only cared about their own needs.

He attends to your other breast, giving it the same treatment - a lick here, a suck there, leaving a trail of bruises and bite marks in his wake. Once he’s satisfied, his lips start to trail downwards. He worships you like this, with his lips and his tongue, making sure there’s a patch of skin with his mark on it. His hands make work of your bottoms, pulling off the offending fabric until you were just left in your undergarments. You expect to feel his fingers on your skin so he can pull them down, but instead when you look down, you see Clive is using his teeth to pull them down.

Oh, this is different. Normally he takes his time with you; press himself against you, kiss you all over. Even as someone who prefers to please his partners more than please himself, it seems like tonight he’s impatient.

“Seems like someone’s been wanting this,” chuckles Clive as he spreads your lower lips a little to inspect you. “You’re already so soaked. All I did was tease you a little. Founder, you’re as depraved as I am.” His hot breath hits your wetness as he speaks, never once pressing his lips against you. You jolt a little at the feeling, a soft huff escaping your lips.

“You started this mess,” You tell him, your fingers already gripping in his hair. “You finish it.”

Another chuckle leaves his lips. Clive is impatient, though, and he wastes no time in pressing his lips right against your dripping entrance. His tongue is relentless here just as it was on your skin; it wastes no time in slipping inside of you, as he starts to drink your essence and fuck you with his tongue alone. It’s almost unbearable to you, in a good way - he drinks like a man starved.

Clive is so good to you, but he knows how to be so cruel, because he knows you enjoy it. He knows how easily you melt on his tongue, and he enjoys every single moment of it.

His fingers slip in as well, two of them pumping in and out as he moves upwards a little, finding your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks at it and you feel the smirk against your entrance as soon as you squeak and moan from his actions. He licks, sucks, his movements becoming faster with each second that passes. You’re trying so hard to swallow back your moans, but the moment his lips wrap around your clit and give it a hard suck, you can’t control your volume anymore. It echoes off of the walls, embarrassingly so, but your mind is so fogged that you don’t seem to care like you usually would.

The knot in your lower stomach painfully tightens, you can feel yourself reaching your peak as Clive continues to tease your clit and thrust his fingers in and out of you. Just as you’re about to find your release, though, he abruptly stops. He pulls himself off of you, his fingers are coated with your essence.

“Clive–” You begin to whine, almost in pain. You stop yourself short when you watch him lick his fingers clean - slowly, like he’s putting on a show for you. Once they’re clean, he looks at you as though he’s a predator who has caught prey in his trap. The slight darkness of the room makes his cerulean eyes have a glow to them. The knot in your stomach returns.

He intends to devour you, his way. He’s going to drag this out, until you’re begging and crying for release.

Clive crawls back onto the bed, his hands moving to undo all of the leathers and fabric of his clothing, until he’s as bare as you are. His cloak and shirt go first, dropping onto the ground until his chest is revealed to you. Greagor, you could probably write several missives about Clive’s chest and muscles, but despite what your lover may say, you’re not that depraved. You keep all of those thoughts to yourself, like a good advisor should. Your eyes drift down with his hands, watching as they fumble a little with his belt, stifling a laugh from how needy and excited he is.

You stop laughing once he finally does undo his belt and pull his pants down, revealing his hard cock to you. You’ve seen it before, it’s been inside of you multiple times now, but you still hitch your breath when you see it. The gods certainly graced Clive with something to brag about, for certain. 

If you ever do meet Ultima maybe you should thank him for giving his vessel something that would make you cross your eyes and forget your own name, but something tells you a narcissistic god obsessed with the purity of his vessel may not appreciate the sonnets a mere mortal would write about said vessel’s cock.

Pre-cum dribbles at the tip, his fingers coated in a mix of his saliva and your juices as he uses it to his advantage to stroke himself a little, to really give you a show now. You hear yourself panting, your chest heaving up and down as you watch the sinful sight before you.

“Enjoying yourself?” Clive smirks, smugness in his voice.

You huff a little in response. “I’ll only enjoy myself when you actually fuck me instead of showing off, Rosfield.”

He laughs a little, leaning down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “As my faithful advisor commands.”

You have no time to respond, as he quickly flips you so you’re on your stomach, face slightly pressed against the pillow beneath you. He presses his front against your back, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds teasingly. Your needy whine and rear thrusting back to try and get him inside of you earns a laugh from him, but thankfully he’s not intensely cruel tonight. He presses inside of you, though it’s not as slow as he normally is. Normally he takes his time with you, but in just seconds he’s got his entire length inside of you. You feel the way his body shudders against your back, your soaked walls clenching around him. A sigh passes your lips, morphing into a moan. 

You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.

His thrusts are slow at first, but it doesn’t take him long for him to pick up his speed. His hips meet your backside, a wonderful symphony of skin slapping against each other fills the room, loud enough to make your ears burn with embarrassment. You bury your face in the pillow to muffle your moans. A hand wraps itself around the back of your neck, though, to pull you up towards its owner. Clive’s heavy breath is in your ear now, worsening your arousal.

“Don’t hide your voice from me,” pants Clive, sharp teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “I want to hear you.”

And you find that you can’t deny him. Your moans are loud, needy, your knuckles turning white from how roughly you’re gripping the sheets to the point where they might tear. His other hand snakes down your stomach, reaching your lower half, and his fingers make work on your clit. It’s a slow rub, his thrusts contrasting the gentleness of his fingers. You can feel yourself reaching your peak, you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening until–

Until he pulls right out of you.

You whine, loudly, at the loss. Your walls clench at nothing, and you try to thrust yourself back towards him, but Clive doesn’t let you do that. Instead, he flips you both again - him on his back and you sitting on his lap. He looks up at you with a smile, his hand running up and down your stomach once more.

“I know exactly what you like.” The outlaw says, pulling you forward so his cock rests right against your stomach. You feel how hot it is, how hard it is, and how it throbs and pulsates against your skin. “Show me how much you want to cum.”

Oh, he’s definitely dragging this out as long as he can. You can’t exactly blame him, you don’t want this to end either. 

But you also really need to reach your peak, otherwise you may burn the whole Hideaway down.

Your wobbly legs manage to hold yourself up, slowly moving down on him. Your whole body shudders as his cock fills you up again, the tip pressing against the deepest parts of your inside. You move up and down on his length, moans and pants spilling from your lips as you decide to not hide your voice any longer - because he wants to hear you. And you can’t deny him, because you don’t want to deny him.

“Founder, your voice alone drives me mad.” Clive growls, his hand squeezing your thigh as he thrusts upwards to meet your own movements. “Tried to focus on my work, tried to put you out of my head for days, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I needed you blissed out on my cock–”

He’s rambling, his voice low and rough, and you love every second of it. Clive’s not much of a talker, but when he is, he makes you feel so depraved for him. Your legs were starting to shake and feel weak already, but you push yourself - you push yourself because you want this. Because you need this from him, just as much as he needed this from you.

“Clive,” you chant his name like a prayer, over and over again. You must sound delirious.

But Clive clearly doesn’t seem to mind, the way his back arches a little just from the sound of your sweet voice. It’s a powerful feeling, you realize, having such a powerful man like him weak at you - a mere mortal, a bearer but not a Dominant. Yet, it’s a good reminder that beneath everything, Clive is a mortal man as well.

“Can you feel me, sweetheart?” He places his hand on your lower stomach, feeling the way it bulges a little from the sheer size of him. You look down, shuddering at the sight as he continues to thrust upwards, your eyes following how the bulge disappears then reappears. “You take me so fucking well. It’s like you were made for me, the way you shake your hips like a woman at the Veil.”

You can’t respond, any time you try to all that fumbles from your lips are moans and whines of pure pleasure.

“I can get so deep into you like this,” groans Clive, his other hand grasping at your hip. “All the way into you. Fuck, I could breed you right here. I could make you swell with my child.”

Oh, that’s different.

And it’s clearly a good different, the way your body responds. Your walls clench around him, as if your body had a mind of its own, as if your body was begging for the man to breed you. He notices too, and he licks his lips and smirks once he realizes you may enjoy the idea as he did.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Another thrust upwards. His thrusts are getting sloppier and rougher, but Greagor does it feel so good. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself, seeing you like that. I’d fuck you every single day–”

You moan, so lecherously. “Clive, fuck, I’m going to cum!”

Both hands grab at your hips, fingers digging and sinking into your skin so hard you know there’s going to be some bruising there in the morning. But you don’t care. All you care about is the man underneath you, and chasing after your own release. Clive makes you move faster onto him, a growl rumbling from his throat.

“Go on, let yourself go.”

You were already so overstimulated from the foreplay from before, and the way his cock brushes against your sweet spots and bashes against the entrance to your womb, you can’t help it. Your walls tighten around him, and you let yourself go.

Another growl rumbles from his throat, this time he pulls you right down onto him, hard. It doesn’t take him long to follow you into a blissful climax, his hot seed pouring into you and flooding your insides. It’s a lot, more than usual, to the point where it floods out from your entrance and onto him.

You collapse onto him, and he instantly takes you in his arms. Slowly, he flips your positions again, just so he can press himself deeper into you. Thank the Founder, because your legs were about to give out.

A moment passes, until he finally pulls himself out from you. His blown out pupils watch as his seed overflows from you, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. He shudders at the sight, and you can’t help but shudder as well.

You’re fading in and out of existence, but when you mostly come to, Clive has wiped you and him down, cleaning you up and gently pressing kisses against any marks he’s left on you. The sheets will unfortunately have to wait until tomorrow. Frankly, you could give less of a shit about that.

The outlaw slumps himself against you, pulling you into his arms. You both lay there in a comfortable silence, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you.” His voice trembles, a little embarrassed - that’s the Clive you know. “I’ll, uh, make sure Tarja prepares a herbal tea for you tomorrow, so that you don’t…” He trails off, hiding his face against your neck even more now.

You chuckle, feeling the hotness of his cheeks against your skin. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” answers the male as he lifts his head up with a smile. “Much better. You always seem to know how to cure my worries and needs.”

“What can I say? I know my boss pretty well.”

He laughs, and your heart feels so warm, so in love with the man before you. Clive leans in, pressing his lips against yours to share a sweet, innocent kiss that contrasts the sinful act you both just partook in. And you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him. You only stop when you feel something hard rub against your thigh, pulling back to see he was still pretty aroused. He’s a little sheepish at that, but he looks at you in want, in need - and love, as always.

“I don’t think one time is going to be enough for you, big guy.”

A sheepish laugh falls from his lips. “I don’t think so either. I might need a few more rounds. That is, if my faithful advisor is up to it.” 

He’s challenging you, clearly. The smirk on his face tells you all you need to know. You smirk back, bucking your hips against his to accept.

“Only if you do most of the work.” You tell him, a leg going in to wrap itself around his waist. “You made me weak in my knees, Lord Rosfield. A gentleman should take some responsibility for his actions.”

His low chuckle reaches your ears, as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. It’s a tender action, one that definitely makes you feel weak in the knees - if you hadn’t already. It doesn’t take him long to reenter you, and you can’t hide the shudder of your slightly overstimulated body. 

But you want everything he has to offer, the good and the bad of Clive Rosfield, and he’ll give it to you. 

Because he wants everything you have to offer, the good and the bad of his faithful advisor, in return.

“As you wish, my love.”

He claims your lips. The night goes on.

“Somethin’ seems to be on your mind.”

Jill looks towards the source of the voice. Gav stands next to her, arms crossed as he meets her gaze with a raised brow. The Dominant says nothing to him, only slowly returning her gaze to where she once was looking. Gav’s line of sight follows hers, landing right on the scene that was unfolding before them.

“Clive, I’m trying to do work!”

Hideaway’s poor advisor was currently trying to shake an overgrown Cid the Outlaw off of them, who has currently draped himself over you. It had been a single day since you had returned from your trip and needless to say, Clive was acting as though you had been gone for years. Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against yours.

“Nothing is stopping you from doing your work,” is all Clive remarks with, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Except for a fucking overgrown dog!”

Gav whistles at the sight before him. “Someone seems to be in a good mood.”

“Indeed,” nods Jill, her gaze never leaving the both of you. Right now you were trying to walk away, which resulted in you basically having to drag the second Eikon of fire around because he refused to let himself off of you. “But, I can’t help but wonder if this is worse than the mood he was in before.”

The scout shrugs his shoulders. “Our advisor has dealt with worse from him. And we don’t have to deal with him slobberin’ all over us, so I’d say a good mood is better than nothin’.”

The woman says nothing. She knows it’s going to be a few days before Clive will return to his normal self, if your theory about why he’s been moody all week rings true. Such things don’t end with a simple, pleasurable night. You’ll be fine, she knows that, so she’s not too worried that you won’t be able to handle Clive Rosfield.

It’s in your job description, after all.

( she’ll still pray to metia for you, at the very least, and hope you come out unscathed. )

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

When Words Aren’t Enough

“There are no such things as stupid questions, only stupid answers,” Sherlock tells Rosie.

“Since when?” John wants to know. “That’s not what you usually say.”

“Well, I obviously meant from our daughter, John. Do keep up!”

The great detective winks at nine-year-old Rosie Watson-Holmes, who’s seated by the kitchen table at Sherlock’s parents.

“Ok. Names and flowers,” the little girl starts. “I have a flower name, just like Granny and my teacher, Lily. I know that boys also can have them, but that’s not common, right? Why?”

She looks expectantly at her Papa, who ponders the questions. Sherlock takes everything Rosie says seriously, and John is still astonished by how patient he is with her.

“That is correct, bumble. It probably has to do with something absurd, like that a flower related name isn’t masculine enough. And most of such names are more related to plants, herbs, and trees than actual flowers. The infamous Narcissus is the only one with a flower name that springs to mind at the moment.”

“I have another question related to flowers too,” Rosie says, having evidently binned the thought of male and female names for now.

“Let’s hear it,” Sherlock coaxes when his parents enter the kitchen from different directions.

Sherlock’s mother comes through the door from the living room, while Sherlock’s father enters from the garden. The latter is cradling a bouquet of violets in his hand, which he hands over to his wife. Violet Holmes looks at her husband with starry eyes and kisses him briefly on the lips.

“Thank you, my love,” she whispers and turns to find a vase to arrange the flowers.

Walter just turns and walks towards the garden door again, and is gone the next second. Before Violet places the vase on the table, she buries her nose in the flowers and inhales deeply.

“He still does that,” Sherlock murmurs, sounding a bit bewildered.

Violet hums in agreement.

“You know he’s not as good with words as you and me, Sherlock. So, when words aren’t enough, or fail him, this is his way of communicating his feelings. It’s quite wonderful,” she says dreamily and starts to make tea.

“That was what I wanted to ask about,” Rosie whispers.

She seems a bit taken aback by the loving encounter. Not that she’s unused to affection between adults. It’s been years since Sherlock and John were embarrassed to kiss in front of Rosie, but her grandparents doing the same thing, seems to have put her off kilter.

“What was?” John prompts when Rosie isn’t forthcoming with her question.

“Oh…um…flowers. I mean, there’s something called the language of flowers, yes?”

“Indeed!” Sherlock beams. “Let’s investigate that. It might come in handy in my work as well.

John shakes his head when the two curly heads lean over John’s laptop to read about roses, violets, daisies, tulips, gardenias, carnations, and zinnias.

***

Some weeks later, John comes home from work and finds an absurdly grand bouquet of flowers on the kitchen table. Rosie and Sherlock are in the park, so John has the flat to himself for a while. He looks for a card and finds one stuck between two green carnations.

My dearest, John

Words can’t describe what I feel for you, so I have turned to nature for guidance. A thousand kisses if you can decipher the meaning behind every flower.

Yours forever. Sherlock

The card quivers minutely in John’s hand and his eyes fill with tears. He indulges in the sentimentality that fills his body for a few minutes before he hastily retrieves his laptop from the coffee table. There’s no way of knowing how long it’ll be before Sherlock and Rosie return, and John is rather keen on getting the promised number of kisses from his husband.

It doesn’t take as long as he thought to gather the evidence and what John finds make his heart ache with longing and love for the remarkable man that has chosen him as a life companion.

He doesn’t even have to check what the green carnations mean. They are a symbol of homosexuality, closely associated with Oscar Wilde.

Then there are:

Honeysuckle – Bonds of love

Yellow lily – Happy

Myrtle – Love in a marriage

Sunflower(dwarf) – Adoration

Red tulip – Passion

Daisy – Loyal love

White camelia – You’re adorable

Red rose – I love you

Blue salvia – I think of you

Violet – Faithfulness

To John’s glee, Rosie stops at Mrs Hudson when they come home, and John gets to enjoy his prize, willingly delivered by his soppy romantic of a husband.

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This is also my entry to this month's Sherlock Challenge and the prompt language.

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[aroaceleovaldez]

You've talked about the pjo fandom's lack of fandom infrastructure a lot, what I want to ask is: why do you think the pjo fandom has so little?

I've seen other much smaller fandoms that have just developed infrastructure as the years go on but pjo feels like it's stayed quite stagnant in that regard. I would've thought that with pjo being so big there'd be a lot more than there is. Did we have a lot then we lost it along the way or did we just not develop it that much?

We definitely used to have way more! In my infrastructure list there's a LOT of old infrastructure blogs from back in the day. There's definitely more than what's on that list, but a lot of those blogs have been deactivated or otherwise lost. I've also talked a bit like [here] about some of the old stuff the fandom used to regularly have, like events that no longer run, common tag games and other community habits, etc. We also used to have more zines and other collaborative projects. These just don't happen nearly as often in our community anymore, because the people running them stopped being able to and nobody was able to pick them up and they were forgotten.

I mostly attribute this change to new fandom attitudes and the loss of community. Back in the day I feel like one of the most influential things to the fandom environment was how a lot of younger fans often looked to big-name-fans for how they should behave and navigate fandom spaces. A lot of people are familiar with the old "big 3" fanartists of the day - Viria, Burdge, and Minuiko - but what a lot of people don't remember is they used to trade art back and forth all the time! And with other artists/fans in the community! They were all just genuinely friends and so much collaboration happened between them! That's how we got a lot of the old big AUs and concepts in the fandom because people loved sharing those and collaborating. And because a lot of young folks often mirror the people they look up to in communities, younger fans were mimicking that behavior and there was a lot of exchange and communication and community happening in the fandom at the time. That behavior was demonstrated, replicated, and encouraged!

And young fans mirroring BNFs they look up to is still absolutely a thing! You can see this all the time if you just take a quick glance at fanart - how many character designs are clearly influenced from large artists in the fandom? Insert every Piper with Velinxi heart-shaped cowlicks here. But because there's a lot of ideas now about curating online presences as if it's a business (or literally turning it into a business) or outputting "content" we see a lot less of people - particularly larger fans in the community - vocally interacting with other fans. Everything feels very sanitized and polished and impersonal. There's way less exchange between fans now, or at least way less vocally.

And this is also pushed by general "new/passive fandom" culture as i generally refer to it, where there's so much more emphasis on consumption and "content" versus community (and again, that idea of curating socials like a business/brand). When everything kind of shifted with the like 2016-2018 adult content bans and everybody was moving around between platforms, folks lost a lot of means of learning about fandom history and their communities and how those communities looked. A lot of fans - including now older fans - have never known that fandom is supposed to be a community, and so now we have the older fans in the community with this very content-oriented presentation of fandom that is how fandom is generally advertised in mainstream media, because that's how they learned about it and how new fans are learning about it. They have no easy means to learn fandom history and nobody to mirror appropriate social fandom behavior from (which is also what i attribute to why so many fandoms have become "more toxic" or rude in recent years - especially with quarantine meaning a lot of young folks lost irl means of learning to mirror appropriate social behavior).

In smaller and newer fandoms, communities form easier and if they're the groundwork for the fandom it will persist and self-perpetuate most of the time. In general if a fandom is able to maintain that community aspect, it usually does just fine! (As per usual I point to the furry fandom as a great example of an older fandom with good infrastructure and community.) This is why I like to harp on about building community and reinstating these types of environments and blogs and such, and generally discussing the fandom's history as much as I can and remember it. People can't fix problems they don't understand or things they don't know about, so making that information as accessible as possible and encouraging these things is important.

[wonderfull-star]

Is it just me or do people just overestimate Peri in some aspects?

Especially people on reddit. I haven't watched the entire cartoon yet, but damn. Some people SERIOUSLY think Peri is a super caring perfect godparent and a really kind character. Like, the best version of Cosmo. Are you serious?? It feels like some people who think that haven't watched the original series. Because people there clearly overestimate Peri and underestimate Cosmo. Yes, Cosmo is far from a genius, but he's definitely not a complete idiot either. And he definitely has a lot more experience than his son. He's already thousands of years old, while his son is only in his 20s…

I feel sorry for Cosmo and Dev 😭

Well, yes, Dev is a spoiled kid. Yes, he used magic for bad purposes. However, he is still just a child who, despite everything, tries to become better. Even if he does such thoughtless and bad things. Well, what else can you expect if no one in particular was involved in his upbringing, and his father himself does not pay enough attention to him.

I am also sure that when Peri first met Dev, he was more worried about his job at first. Which is understandable. After all, it was his first time and he was afraid of making even the slightest mistake. Because of all these rules and his peculiarity of magic, he developed severe anxiety.

I think the idea of ​​creating Poof as an adult is to show through his character the real difficulties that people go through at this age and the pressure of society. And you know, it suits him so well. In the original series, he was always in the spotlight and everyone always had high expectations for him. It is clear that at an older age, this will not affect him in the best way.

Still, sometimes Peri didn't behave in the best way. He had just gotten his job at the first time. Even with all the education he had gone through, it wouldn't make him a good godparent right away, that's for sure. After all, what's important in this job is not the training but the experience itself, which he clearly doesn't have yet. People also forget that Peri initially wanted to be a tooth fairy not a fairy godparent. So I wonder: wasn't it primarily the influence of his parents and the fact that THEY wanted to see him in this job and not Peri himself? In real life, unfortunately, this often happens and all this later ends in a not very good way.

So even if Peri had Hazel as his godchild, it still wouldn't have solved the problem. And not because he's bad as a godparent, but because this job is simply not right for him. In some moments, he acted pretty disinterested even when Dev wasn't acting like an egoist. Yes, now people will throw various excuses at me about this, but still. However, it's even clear that Peri clearly doesn't enjoy this job. Seriously, if you remember Cosmo and Wanda from the original cartoon, they mostly enjoyed what they do (although they've been doing this for thousands of years). The thing is that they just get along well with children and find a common language with them. Perhaps I think the creators wanted to show the problem in choosing your profession and what you really like to do in life. And what difficulties you have to go through to find what you really like to do.

But some people just don't care about it, considering Peri the best in literally everything. In fact, they consider him as tumblr "star"man and Dev as a simple spoiled child. Crazy fans forget that almost every character has their own shortcomings and bad sides. Well, and also the opposite of all this. I consider Peri more as a neutral character with his good qualities and flaws. Still, it is impossible to deny that in some moments he really did not act in the best way.

Peri’s simps detected 📸(don’t take it seriously lol)

And this is a very common situation in fandoms…

[clangenrising]

Kind of feel the need to send this on anon because the Warriors fandom has not historically been a place where discussions like this are tolerated at all.

I appreciate the discussions you're inspiring with your content a lot. I'm still working on disentangling myself from the knee-jerk purity culture reactions that I feel have been not only encouraged but brutally enforced by the warriors fandom at large for years and years. I can't count the number of callout posts that I've seen for artists that ended in complete exile from the online fandom space over stuff like having an alternate adult content blog or following someone who is a proshipper or whatever. One that sticks out clearly from some years ago was a young artist who drew slightly suggestive art of her own two WC OCs and got accused of supporting pedophilia and zoophilia because one of her OCs was a self insert and the artist was like 16 or something. It's exhausting. And I have never understood it, especially as the people making those kind of accusations will turn around and say "thought crime isn't real, your intrusive thoughts don't make you a bad person UwU" in another post.

We seem to be able to seperate reality from fiction in a lot of other scenarios. Nobody (reasonable) accuses boys who play Halo or COD of wanting to be mass murderers just because they enjoy those games. Nobody tells true crime girls that they must support kidnapping, rape and murder simply because they listen to stories that discuss it. Nobody would say that you're automatically a white supremacist because you're interested in norse mythology and vikings. And nobody would tell you you support cults irl just because you enjoy reading Warrior cats. But for some reason, when it comes to kinks and sex, all that common sense flies out the window. If you enjoy whatever kink in your fiction, you're dangerous and morally corrupt and want to enact those fantasies in real life. I'm not going to say there's no correlation at all between fiction and reality. I'm sure that there have been cases where the interests I described above did inspire people to do horrible things in real life. But for every one person where that's true, there are another hundred thousand where it isn't. And not having a safe, sane outlet to explore these feelings and interests may also lead someone down a dark path just as easily. Which I feel leads to the ultimate conclusion that while fiction CAN effect reality, it does not predict the actions someone will take.

I'll admit that the scene between Luna and Floodstrike made me a little uncomfortable to read, but I found that discomfort extremely valuable. I always aim to interrogate my discomfort. Where is it coming from? Why do I feel that way? I think in this case, a lot of the discomfort is rooted in the widespread fandom treatment towards content of this sort, and my own personal fear of repercussions for being close to "controversial" content. But I feel like I'm at a point in life where I'm ready to confront that fear... almost. I don't think I'm brave enough to be public with my opinions like you, but I think I am ready to stop blindly following the same thought patterns regarding adult content and kink that seem to dominate the warriors fandom. Yes, this series was created for kids. But a significant portion of the lifeblood of this fandom is adults at this point. I don't think it's wrong for some content to discuss adult topics as long as it's properly tagged.

Yeah, I don't blame anyone for staying on anon while engaging with this discussion. People online can be shitty.

While I don't think that no one is giving those other people grief (look long enough into any fandom and you'll find a person who's mad about it), I do think people are especially quick to jump to condemnation when it comes to sex and kink. I applaud you on working to interrogate why that piece made you uncomfortable! That's exactly what I want to encourage with my art!

Thanks for sharing your thoughts ♡

[tinyfantasminha]

I think Tumblr and other social medias have aged to become more like a community where everybody assumes they are friends with everyone (unless they disagree with them). Like as social media gets introduced to younger and younger kids every year, the sense and need of privacy is no longer there.

Now for people, someone showing their art might be akin to a friend showing their drawing to you, it becomes expected so the less detailed compliments they give.

The solution could be to make your page more professional so people dont get the idea they are your friends, since you do post things that would be considered talk between friends (like simping for jack). But i get the feeling you'd hate that since it would essentially turn your page into more of a statistics rather than a warm environment.

Im not good at wording myself so im sorry if this gives off an offending message, im trying to be objective but im not sure how it comes across.

DW, I get what you're trying to say 😔 It's annoying that more and more people in fandom nowadays seem to know little to none of fandom etiquette... and it's not just the teens, it's a worryingly amount of adults too

Creators want validation, nice comments and asks but they also want respect... one parasocial interaction which is especially common with artists and writers are the ''can you teach me how to draw/write/how to create ocs'' or by seeking validation for their own personal stuff (sending their art or pictures unsolicited so YOU specifically can feedback it, or asking you to opinion on their ocs) like..... I can see these actions may come from a genuine place, but it should be common sense that these are weird ways to start a conversation with a creator you supposedly admire. It feels intrusive and demanding.

And sometimes the intention is not even bad, it's just phrased in a demanding way that makes creators feel pressured. Rephrasing ''can you teach me how to draw/write'' with ''hello! I love your art/writing! if you don't mind me asking, could you share your creative process or maybe tips?'' makes a WHOLE difference! it's more polite and acknowledges the creator’s boundaries, making the request feel more like a compliment than a demand.

Ugh, the thing is... making the blog more ''professional'' takes away the whole point of it. Tumblr is one of the few spaces left where you can scream into the void about your interests, gush over things you love, and just exist as a person, not a content machine. Unlike algorithm-driven platforms like tiktok or twitter, in here it lets you control your space; your blog is yours to curate, to fill with weirdness, passion, and whimsy. Here, creators feel like real people, not just faceless usernames churning out "content" for engagement. I do not feel comfortable being as much personal on twitter for example, where any nosy person can QRT you being unnecessarily mean because the platform's culture prioritizes performative snark and clout over genuine creativity or connection. Tumblr was always a place for the weirdos, the cringe and the freaks, no one is here to make a brand out of themselves, it's about being authentic and having fun.

Creators should absolutely be allowed to be loose, weird, and fun here while still being respected 😔

[punkeropercyjackson]

Pjo fans insist they don't see Percy Jackson as autistic but the proof is in the blue pudding in how they treat him that they know he's audhd and not allistic adhd

They make fun of him for his (special) interests because he's super into 'kiddy/silly' things and pretend he's into ones he's never even mentioned(The Little Mermaid,Nemo,etc)while ignoring his actual tastes,they call stupid 'affectionatelly' when he's expressed verbally AND in his narration so many times it's upsetting and that it's something he's resigned himself to eternally happening to him rather than growing to like it,they turn his younger loved ones into his 'babysitters' when HE'S the one constantly looking out for younger people on eldest sibling/pseudo-dad instinct,they treat his lack of social skills as a moral failing even though nobody ever fucking taught him how to mask so now he literally can't and the peer abuse,parental abuse,parental abandoment AND grooming into a child soldier for his entire teenage years did NOT help,they insist he's a stereotypically masculine cis man despite countless instances of misandry and discomfort in male roles and gender neutral at BEST gender presentation and several moments that heavily indicate he wants femininity and maybe even womanhood and they invalidate his autism as even a posibility with the excuse he has adhd,as if they aren't a super common combo platter and autistics/audhd people aren't misdiagnosed-on purpose at a number of not uncommon times!!!-as adhd is seen as more 'normal' than autism

Of course Perseo 'Percy' Isadore Jackson is autistic!!He's the personification of black audhd and the abuse and alienation that comes with it!He's also the paragon of how cool black audhd people are and our cycle breaking and reclamation of our traits we were forced to think means there's something 'wrong' with us but you whatever the greek equivalent to weaboo is geeks won't let him be cool,BECAUSE he's audhd and you think every autistic person is 'supposed' to 'accept' we're losers so you can't get uncomfy🥺 when confronted with the fact autism IS a spectrum,not as a joke but as a reality,but you don't wanna say that so you deny he's autistic to not feel bad even though what you're doing IS bad!!!!!Like objectively,Percy is a role model for neurodivergent kids to show them they're not what their tormenters say they are and that they can grow up to be the adults they needed to save them when we were younger when everyone just choose to hurt us!Percy is NOT allistic,he's the most autistic character of the entire american media 2000s-2010s era and if you insist he's not,just call him a r*tard instead.It would be less ableist than this embarrassing disaster you oldheads who harrassed a lil black girl,for existing as something other than a blonde unnatural eye colors white girl,have been pulling since what is going to be 20 years in not too long.What if i killed 'Pjo fandom elders' who want the gender ambigious autistic afropunk anarchist to sell out for their premordial booktok ships with hammers

[impcstcrsyndrcme]

The following post is a little rant about somethings that annoy me a little in the PJO rp scene (some happen in other fandoms too) or that my mind can't wrap around and make it make sense. Its just my opinion and in no form directed to anyone specific or trying to start drama, please don't start drama over silly shit. You've been warned. And i'm sorry in advance for the holy bible of a vent it is lol

✿ Honestly it makes no sense to me the idea that a young teen demigod, would be cabin leader if they don't show major responsibility and leadership skills over an older demigod that is there longer and have more experience. Honestly. And i don't mean that a younger person would not be responsible or could not be a good cabin leader, but they have to fit in the role or at least openly not like to be in it. It just don't make sense someone who basically don't care and it's 15-16 to be apointed leader.

✿ Other thing that bothers me a little is that is hard as fuck to find muses over 17... Like demigods can become adults and still be/stay at camp, honestly I believe this would be quite common for demigods that practically grew up at camp and don't have much experience outside besides missions. Of course I think after they have a serious relationship and plan to have kids that would change but I have a headcannon that someone would start a little village/residential area close to camp, so they can continue living in their comfort zone but with more privacy. Like maybe a place with smaller cabins or a building they'd go home to but once the day starts again, they go back to camp and basically work there.

✿ Also the amount of demigods from the big three. "Hey andy, this is a little hypocritical of you to say. You have demigods of all the big three" yeah, I know. Its just a little weird to see so many and this is just because on my old platform people prefer to keep them to a minimal because of the background of the books and all that.

✿ The last is how sometimes the characters appearance and powers don't seem to match their godly parents. Like, every god have a set of most common skills, traits and powers they pass along to their children, as in, most of their offspring will show them all or a mix of them. While they also have the more rare skills, traits and powers, that are EXCEPTIONS, so a small number of their children will have them. And there are also the things that they don't pass along or are not within their range or being, so it would not make sense that their children would have it. Like for example: poseidon kids will most of the times have green, or blue, eyes and dark hair. Or for Aphrodite's kids that most of the times are either romantic, sensual and/or care a lot about their appearance, also playing with others feelings. These are common traits, of course there are exceptions to every rule, but they should be that... Exceptions. If everyone are different, than are not exceptions anymore. That also includes how some gods don't have children at all for mythology/history reasons, like hera, hebe, artemis and hestia.

Okay those were fandom things that bothered me, but the following are specific roleplay things.

✿ I don't mind at all my partners age as far as interacting go, I don't have a DNI based on age only. But that being said, I wish people would put their age group on their blogs! And I don't mean the exact age, just a "minor" or "adult" or maybe "18+" or "21+" just so I (and others) know how to be respectful and act accordingly. I'll not send adult shit to minors and I would not feel good the other way around too. But it gets hard to do that if I dont know your age. "But andy, you can see the muse age..." Thats not the same! There is minors who have adult muses and adults who have minor muses. Its tricky when it don't need to be.

✿ I feel like a lot of people don't show interest in actually writing or roleplaying, this may be just a personal take, but if you constantly answer with only: "hm", "hi", "good"... Or half a dozen words that don't have any hook or action, thoughts, etc. If feels bad! It feels for me like you don't care or don't want to be there, like I'm the only one trying to write something with a meaning or an idea to keep going. It makes ME feel bad and I then drop the idea of interacting because it feels bad and pointless.

✿ This last point is just something I don't personally understand the appeal but I get that its just personal taste. I don't get the idea of a character blog, like it is still an online blog but as if the person behind it was the character writing on their computer the posts. I personally don't understand it, but thats just about me.

That was it I guess. Again, this is just a rant/vent about things from my end, its not personal or directed towards anyone specifically. Don't start drama! But feel free to comment here about it so we can discuss it, if you want to.

[aingeal98]

Hi, so I was reading some of your Stephanie Brown meta & kudos, serious props yours is excellent. I also noticed you seem to be among those who picked up on the worrying undercurrent of Stephanie's relationships with older men. So double kudos for that.

Especially as its one of those things that tends to get glossed over in fandom & I am unsure at times if some writers even grasped what they were doing. Though that may say more about how girls tend to be treated/viewed as adults rather than children, teenagers or victims, save when its convenient to judge them as such.

Sorry not sure where I am going with this, but I think your stance it from that "Five ships that won't happen" section of the Steph ask as well thought out and covered a lot, so third kudos just for tackling that heavy topic so deftly and efficiently.

Ah thank you! Stephanie's relationship with men is so fascinating to me because she's been hurt so many times and the dissonance between her canon and fanon versions are pretty grim yet interesting. Like in early canon she was the Faith to Ariana's Buffy, the Veronica to the Bettys that were Tim's other love interests at the time. And various writers had various ideas about why she was the way she was, a common theme being that she had difficult relationships with the men in her life and had been hurt in the past. Be it a villain, a friend of her fathers, Cluemaster himself, or a shitty clearly too old guy named Dean. I don't think it was meant to be a pattern, more likely just individual ideas about trauma Steph suffered in her past that ended up turning into a consistent trait.

So you've got an abusive father, at least two cases of SA that I can remember (her babysitter and Black Mask), a pregnancy with clear subtext that the father was older than her, and the general way Batman treats her.

Not to mention she was a minor when all this happened. Like Steph has so many issues that she deserves the chance to unpack but instead they've just kind of... softened her down. Like her Batgirl run was the first chance she'd gotten to be the actual hero instead of The Girl in a story written by sexists, and she deserved every second of that. There had been too much injustice done to her character and her Batgirl run did a good job at setting the baseline for giving her a decent narrative. But afterwards, the New 52 could have delved more into her psyche instead of leaning into her waffles and sparkles fanon characterization. But because the New 52 is the worst, it didn't. And now here we are.

It's one of the reasons I'd really love to write a story about Steph realising she's bisexual, because I think in some ways her view of men are due to feeling trapped by heterosexuality and the patriarchal society. It's hard to explain fully without going into a whole other meta but the way she reacts to Tim showing her bare minimum decency is heartbreaking. Like yes men are awful and have been awful to her but she still likes them, she's going to settle down and marry one eventually right? She just has to find the right one, and Tim didn't treat her like complete garbage so he might be it for her!

And then for her to realise that no, she doesn't. She can marry a man if she wants to but if she wants romance there's also women... I really think bi Steph could be so much more than a simple "Oh hey I like girls now cool lol." Like it would shake a significant amount of the misogyny she's internalised and directed towards herself, it could alter the view she's taken of the world, and it would allow her to see her past trauma through a different lens, maybe with less subconscious self hatred.

Sorry this turned into a giant ramble haha, but thank you for the ask!