#and i would hate to have to NOT post it here at all or worse cut it off short and have the complete scene only on the website rip

[lesbianralzarek]

idk what discourse dimension some of you "fandom elders" are stuck in, but in my ~15 years in online (and sometimes irl) fandom spaces, this is the golden age for me

shipping wars have literally always existed and acting like we all used to hold hands and sing kumbaya is insane. "well, there wasnt this moral component thats soooo annoying these days" okay but thats worse. you do see how thats worse, right? people used to tell each other to kill themselves over zutara vs kataang and then not even care when people were racist. twice as mad for reasons half as reasonable. also, where were you all in 2015-2019? that was the era of "steven universe is fascism apologism" and "i headcanon these characters as found family, so its incest to ship them". now shipping "drama" is like "oh i broke mutuals with them after they wrote smut of this child character being assaulted by their parent", which is actually just a normal response

wondering what torment nexus some of you are trapped in where fandom has gotten more toxic? hope you can escape soon, because im having a ball out here in a world where biphobia is seen as a bigger problem than a ship being dumb

[bitethedevil]

The True Meaning of Fear

Warnings: NSFW, Arachnophobia, Choking, Very Violent Oral, Abusive behaviour, Fear Play, Non-Con, Devils Who Are Deviling.

AN: I'm having fun writing more angsty and loving stuff for other characters like I mentioned in my update post, but sometimes you just got to write some fucked up Raphael stuff to clear your palate a bit. Seriously: mind the warnings. It’s…yeah…pretty fucked. I will be seeking professional help and saying some Hail Mary's to repent for my sins🚶‍♀️‍➡️Enjoy! 🫶

”Pleeease, Raphael,” she sobbed. ”It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Please what?” he asked with a smile and a soft tone that made him seem like the perfect image of innocence. “We are only having a conversation …”

She was not buying this attempt at lulling her into a false sense of security. She knew him. He had brought her to a cell in the bowels of the House of Hope. Had he simply wanted to talk, he would now have done it here.

“I will ask you again,” he said, still in that soft tone. “What did you see?”

She gave a small sob and shook her head. His yellow eyes narrowed slightly at her, but the smile stayed on his lips. He was in the cell with her too, on a chair in front of her sobbing form on the floor.

“What was it that frightened my little bird so much that she neglected all of her duties? I do so hate to repeat myself…”

Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to hold in more tears.

He had come home to find his house in complete disarray. Multiple dead debtors had laid scattered across the floor, as they had tried to defend the house against intruders. He had found her shaking in the corner of his office. A powerful fear spell had made her hide instead of dealing with the intruders or alarming Raphael.

He had been furious when he found her. He had lost a small fortune in gold and an invaluable staff that dated back to the early days of the Netheril Empire. He had yelled at her, but due to her fearful state, he did not receive the reaction he wanted. She had been too out of it to properly react to his words, so he took her here instead.

She could see from the way his tail flicked and the way he drummed his claws on the arm of the chair that he was running out of patience. She had to give him an answer.

“Death,” she lied and dried her tears with her sleeve. “I saw my own death.”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards in an amused smile and gave a huff of laughter.

“Death, hm?” he repeated. “Are you truly such a simple creature? I find that difficult to believe. If death was what you feared the most, you would not dare lying to my face in such a manner. Try again. The truth this time, if you would be so kind.”

She started shaking again and she could feel her skin become clammy. She had a good idea what would happen if she told him. She also knew what he would do to her if she did not. It was hard to decide which was worse.

“Come now,” he said, his tone softer again. “You will receive no judgment from me. Is it something embarrassing? Something completely irrational? Those do tend to be my favorites…”

She remained quiet.

“Or,” he said and looked at her with a bored expression. “I could bring the Omuan dreamcatcher in here, present you to every fear known to man, and I can deduce what it is from there. I’m certain that Hope would not mind if we borrowed it for the day.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No-no. Please don’t.”

She had seen how Hope had been after her time with the dreamcatcher. She was an empty shell of a person after those sessions.

She swallowed hard and looked at the floor in front of her.

“Spiders,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve never liked spiders…”

“Ah,” Raphael said with a satisfied smile. “A classic.”

She looked around. Her skin was tingling at the thought. She was already becoming paranoid.

“When did you acquire this fear? Were you always afraid of them?”

Her hand shot to the back of her neck where she felt a tingle. Nothing. It had only been her hair touching her. Her skin was becoming increasingly sensitive.

“As a child,” she said.

“Do elaborate,” he purred with a smile.

Her breath hitched at the memory a bit.

“I was in my bed,” she explained. “I turned to lay on my back and looked at the ceiling. I saw it just before it fell down into my face.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “That does sound rather unpleasant.”

His eyes slowly turned upwards to look at the ceiling above her. She flinched and looked up. Nothing. Raphael chuckled at her movement.

“I can almost hear your heartbeat from over here,” he purred. “Such a pretty sound…”

“I beg you, Raphael,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Just please don’t—”

“Shh-sh-sh,” he hushed gently. “We are only talking.”

He leaned forward slightly in his chair.

“I am a jealous man, my dear. It’s one of my less attractive qualities, I’m afraid, but it is so. So, you must understand how it irks me to find that your fear of me is only second to that of the eight-legged vermin you seem to hate so much.”

Her hand darted up to her hair where she scratched her scalp. She swore that she could feel them everywhere, even though she knew that it was only her fear that made her feel things. For now, anyway.

She felt something hit her shoulder from above and squealed. She brushed her shoulder in a panic and swore that she felt something furry touch her hand as she did. She quickly moved her body away from the wall she had been sitting against, closer to Raphael and let out a whine. Her eyes searched where she had just sat but once again: nothing.

“Tell me,” Raphael said in an amused tone. “What do you think causes this fear of yours?”

She was practically sitting between his legs now. He ran his claws slowly over her scalp and it made her shiver in her overstimulated state. She wrapped both her arms over her head like a stubborn child refusing to let their parents comb their hair. She knew that she was pathetic, but she could not control it at this point.

Raphael brushed two claws against the back of her neck in a featherlight touch, making her flinch again. He still wanted an answer, and maybe as long as she spoke, he would not do anything. She quickly tried to construct a sentence in her scattered mind.

“I—I don’t know,” she said. “Too many limbs maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well,” he said with a mocking laugh. “I am one limb short of eight in this form. That doesn’t make you fear me any more than your eight-legged friends, evidently. It must be something else, mustn’t it?”

His claws tapped her arm in a way that mimicked a spider’s legs, and she flinched away from him. She moved back to where she was sitting before. She could see on his face that he was enjoying every second of this.

His smile widened as he unstretched one hand and snapped his fingers with the other. A fat, long-legged spider hovered over his hand, and she started crying again. She did not want to look at it, but on the other hand, if she did not, she could not know where it was. She watched in horror as the small creature clumsily and frantically tried to move in the air but could not.

Raphael studied it with a bored gaze while she pleaded for him to stop.

“Have you ever noticed how the creatures humans fear irrationally are rarely mammalian?” he mused over her sobbing. “Spiders, insects, snakes, birds…I do suppose rats and mice are an exception, but there is a theme, isn’t there?”

She had backed herself into the corner of the room. She could not get further away, and she was still uncontrollably crying.

“Cats, dogs, horses…Feeble-minded creatures, but the human need to anthropomorphize makes you believe that they are perhaps not so different from yourself. A spider, on the other hand…”

She let out a long whine as he pinned the spider to one position in the air and made it hover slowly towards her face. She screamed when it came to a stop in front of her. Its legs were still moving, but it was facing her. She could not breathe.

“It’s scared,” Raphael cooed mockingly. “Terrified, like you. Yet you cannot sympathize with it. Your brain will not let you. So much for human compassion, hm?”

He got up from his chair. He snapped his fingers, and the spider disappeared. He leaned down slightly and loosely put his hand around her neck. The claw on his thumb dug into her as he tilted her head back to look at him.

“Look at me.”

She whimpered and looked up at his face.

“Tell me, my sweet,” he purred. “What is it like to stare into the eyes of a creature and realizing that they do not work like you? That they do not have feelings in any way that you understand them? That there is nothing human in there…”

She looked into those yellow eyes of his and felt the same way as he just described.

“Terrifying…” she muttered.

“Good,” he said in a low growl, smiling at her. “Terrifying, yes.”

He snapped his fingers, and she felt something on her shoulder. She frantically tried to move away, but Raphael’s grip around her neck tightened. He pushed her head back against the wall.

“Don’t. Move,” he said firmly. “You are not leaving this cell before you realize that the only thing in this world you will ever need to fear, is me. Serve me well, and you will never have to fear at all…”

She felt the spiders furry legs move slowly over her skin. She gasped for breath as her tears started rolling down her cheeks again. She knew that Raphael would not stop this before she did as he said. His grip loosened when he saw her freeze instead of continuing her attempt to flee.

He let go of her and stood up tall to admire her pathetic state on the floor. He began unbuttoning his doublet while he watched. She felt the spiders legs on her collarbone, slowly making its way across her chest. She sobbed quietly and did everything in her power not to move.

“I think it likes you,” Raphael purred in an amused tone.

He hung his doublet over the chair. He was only in his white shirt and pants, and she could now see just how excited the whole situation was making him. His erection strained against his pants. He walked closer to her so that he was now towering above her.

He slowly tipped her head back with a claw under her chin.

She screamed but the fear had now paralyzed her so much that she could not move even if she wanted to. There were hundreds of them above them on the ceiling, and they were all the size of a palm. The scream turned into a sob as she stared upwards.

He was smiling in an almost fond way as he feasted on her terrified expression. She felt his hand cup her cheek. He wiped the tears on her cheeks with his palm, before moving his hand to his now freed member. He gave it a few lazy strokes, using her tears to lubricate his length while he watched her with a heavy-lidded gaze. He gave a content sigh.

He put his thumb and index finger on each side of her jaw with his free hand, forcing her to open her mouth.

“If I feel teeth, I will show you the true meaning of fear,” he warned.

He ran the tip of his cock over her bottom lip, smearing his precum on her trembling mouth. He pressed his cock inside and her mouth closed around it. A deep groan escaped his mouth.

“Such a good girl,” he purred with a smile.

He began slowly moving in and out of her mouth with languid thrusts. His hand moved to where the spider had nestled in her cleavage to pick it up. He gently placed it on her head, making her sob around his cock. She choked as she forced herself not to bite him. He growled in pleasure.

“We are making such wonderful progress, my dear,” he said. His voice was slightly breathier and huskier now. “I believe that you are beginning to understand��� Fear does not excuse negligence.”

Her eyes closed shut as she could feel the spider’s legs on her face. She whimpered, but the sound came to an abrupt end when he shoved his cock further down her throat. He gently shushed her and caressed her tear-stained cheek with his thumb. She could not breathe.

She gagged but he did not seem to care. The sounds she made, the way her crying and trembling was making her throat feel, the way she looked so utterly pathetic: it was pure bliss for him. He suddenly snapped his fingers. She felt the spider on her face disappear. Her eyes opened and she looked at the ceiling: nothing.

She did not get to revel in her relief before Raphael started fucking her face with hard, violent thrusts. His hand clasped around her throat again in a hard grip. She could not breathe at all, and she started squirming and panicking. Her limbs flailed as she tried to get away, but her back was up against the wall. There was nowhere to move.

She tried pushing him away, hitting his legs, but he was unmovable. She looked up at him with panicked and pleading eyes, and it only seemed to excite him further. He did not cease his violent assault on her face.

“I lost a small fortune,” he growled. “All because of a frightened, stupid, little girl.”

She tried everything to move, but his grip on her only tightened when she did. Soon, she would not have the energy to fight anymore. Her throat was hurting so much. The grim thought that this might be how she died flashed into her mind, making her panic even worse.

“Nothing would excite me more than watching the life leave your eyes,” he growled as if having read her thoughts. “Instead, I think I will let this be a reminder to you, dear girl: the next time you feel tempted to let your fear control you, remember what it gets you… Nothing.”

She stopped moving and she could feel herself slowly beginning to lose consciousness. He shoved his cock as far down her throat as it would go. Her nose was brushing against his pelvis. It was painful and she felt like throwing up. He gave a deep groan as he came down her throat.

She gasped for breath when he pulled out. She coughed hard. She spat a mix of blood, cum, and saliva onto the floor in front of her as she wheezed for breath. She felt like throwing up, but she couldn’t.

When she finally looked up, Raphael was watching her with a small smile as he began buttoning his doublet.

“I trust you have learned your lesson?”

She nodded quickly. She could not stop coughing, and every cough felt swallowing knives.

“Good,” he purred. “You did well…”

He turned and opened the door to the cell with a snap. She tried to scramble to her feet to follow him out. Just as she had gotten up off the floor, he stepped outside the cell and closed the door in her face.

He smirked as he looked at her for a long moment. Then his eyes slowly drifted to the ceiling above her. Her lips began trembling again as she kept looking at him.

“Korrilla will come get you in the morning,” he said in a cold, even tone. “If I have decided to forgive you by then…”

There was the softest thud as she felt something land on her shoulder. Then another on the floor. Then another as she felt something fall off her head. Then another.

There were no more tears in her, and no screams came out of her ruined throat. Just a quiet, broken wheeze came out of her mouth as she looked upwards.

[louferrignojrofficial]

Please don't take this the wrong way but maybe the reason people keep blocking you is because sometimes your posts come across a bit mean. Been following you for a long time and I haven't unfollowed yet (not that you should care) and I don't follow 9-1-1 closely, but I ship both bucktommy and buddie. But this narrative that I keep seeing that all buddie shippers are toxic is ridiculous and unnecessarily divisive. We're all people, just with different tastes. Despite the actual toxic behavior (bullying, death threats etc) being louder and more visible, most people just want to find other people with similar interests. And they mean well.

i have never once assumed all buddie shippers were mean or bad or hateful. in fact, that’s what makes it worse. because the bad ones are loud and make everyone else look bad. and that goes for the bucktommy shippers on here and twitter who are now doing the same thing it seems.

and it would make me much of a hypocrite if i ever did think that because i too used to only like buddie and no other ships, even their canon relationships. but i would never think to go around making posts like what i have seen these last few months.

so yes, i see where you’re coming from. perhaps some things i say do come across a bit mean. but if i refer to toxic buddie shippers/shipping, i specified ‘toxic’ because i’m trying not to generalise everyone. maybe i didn’t do well enough trying to make that clear.

but i’m trying to differentiate between people who go around hating on a random side character/making him, the actor and bucktommy shippers look bad, and people who are simply ignoring all that hatefulness in search of enjoying what they enjoy and the ships they like.

and to go back to your main point, i get blocking me. it’s just sad when it’s people you are familiar with and have been mutuals with for years.

(and i do care btw)

[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing XV.V (The missing chapter)

Master list link here (includes chapter links, summary, and character bios)

A/N: I took this chapter out because it made references to things I hadn't talked about in this story (but will in the prequel series!). And because I felt like it would have made the chapter after this one (and in the story's current iteration Chapter 16) less climactic--though it probably would have been pretty climactic with the cliff hanger in hindsight. It's a short one, so please enjoy. The final chapter will be out on its usual post day!

Warnings: physical violence, blood, knife, stabbing, wounds, referenced death, character death, mcd, unconsciousness, referenced heat injury

“You are sadly still so predictable,” Owen drawled as he grabbed for another knife from his bandolier of blades. He had slipped back into their native tongue. He had, Dylan realized, always spoken to Dylan in their mother tongue. Only when it was absolutely necessary did he use the language native to Patricanus.

And you haven’t changed either. “Does it matter? We both know how this ends, Owen. Give it up.” I will end you. I will rip you limb from limb. I will destroy you. You did this. You gave me no choice.

“Yes, it ends with me winning and imbuing your sweet paramour. Do you think she will be as monstrous as me? Or perhaps as monstrous as you?” Owen chuckled as he dodged another attack from Dylan.

Dylan and Owen continued to trade blows. Both weapons fought with their powers, Owen combining his attacks with his physical weapons. Their chests heaved as they panted. Neither had had a fight that required this much strength in nearly a decade. “Isn’t this lovely,” Owen said as he tossed a bent knife to the side before drawing another, “two of the most powerful beings in the world set to destroy one another.” He glanced over his shoulder at Halle. “Perhaps she will join our ranks soon.”

Hold on, sweetheart. I won’t let him hurt you. “Owen,” Dylan said as he raised his fist once more, “it doesn’t have to be this way. If you agree to stop, if you agree to come willingly—“

“You’ll what, kill me quickly? I’m not going to do that.” Owen released a large pulse of energy at Dylan. It missed Dylan by a wide margin, blasting a large hole in the wall behind him. Shouts of pain and alarm rang out.

Dylan gritted his teeth. His side pinched. He could feel blood leaking through his shirt and making his side slick. He didn’t dare check the wound. It doesn’t matter. It is minor. Minor pain. I have had worse. I need to stop him. I need to stop him from destroying everything. He knew he was burning through his vast reserve of energy. But most of all, Dylan hated the loss of innocent human life. “Do you care so little for your minions you would kill them to hurt me?”

Owen smirked. “Yes, wouldn’t you?” Owen sent another energy blast at the wall, vaporizing the scattering men. “That’s what they are for. They are weak. We are strong. We can destroy everything.”

“You cannot do this, Owen. You cannot destroy everything. Think of what we could rebuild. Think of all the lives we could save.” Please. Please don’t make me do this. I…I don’t want to. Dylan realized with a pang of guilt. As much as he hated what Owen had done, as much as he hated the destruction and waste of life, he didn’t hate Owen. And killing Owen would kill a part of him. Please, we were friends once. We can still be friends. Please, don’t make me kill you.

“I can. And I will. Because I can. And because I want to.” Owen lunged towards Dylan again, his knife flashing bright. Dylan easily dodged Owen’s attack once more, but realized his mistake when Owen charged towards Halle.

“No!” Dylan surged forward, realizing too late, this was exactly what Owen wanted. Owen stabbed the knife up and into Dylan’s gut, burying it to the hilt. Dylan tried to breathe through the pain as Owen rode his body to the ground.

“Like I said, Dylan,” Owen ripped the knife up and through Dylan’s body until he hit bone. Dylan gasped through the pain, “so predictable.”

“Owen,” Dylan hissed as he felt Owen rip the knife from his gut. “Owen, please,” he said. “Owen, ahh—“ Dylan cried out as Owen shoved his hand into the wound. His world whited out with pain as Owen wormed his fingers into the wound on his side.

“There, that’s it. Yes, you are where I always planned for you to be, Dylan.” Owen’s face was inches from Dylan’s. “I have been waiting for this moment.”

“Owen, I’m sorry,” Dylan whispered. I cannot let you do this. I cannot let you win. If you win, the world burns. If you win, she dies. I cannot let that happen.

Owen froze. “What are you sorry for? Wounding me?” Owen wriggled his fingers deeper into the wound. Dylan cried out with pain. “What’s the best way and only surefire way to kill a weapon?”

Dylan gritted his teeth. I don’t want to do this. But you are leaving me no choice. Please, Owen. “Owen—“

“That’s right, you destroy the heart. A head shot will probably kill them, but not always. But the heart? The heart is the only way. I’m going to rip your heart apart, Dylan. And then I’m going to wake up your love so she can see your corpse as I turn her.” Owen twisted his arm, shoving it further into Dylan’s body. “I’ll reach your heart either through your belly or through your side. It doesn’t matter. I will have your heart. I will win.”

Destroy their heart. This is the only way. I’m sorry, Owen. I’m sorry this is what it came to. You left me no choice. “Killing me won’t bring them, any of them back. Killing me won’t bring her back.”

Owen froze. Dylan continued. “Killing me won’t change what happened. Killing me won’t bring—“

“You don’t get to say her name. You don’t get to say anything about any of them. And yes, killing you won’t bring them back. But it will make me happier.”

Dylan closed his eyes tight against the sting of tears. I am sorry. I am so sorry. I tried. You left me no other way. I would have found another way. You left me no choice, Owen. Dylan raised his shaking left hand to touch Owen’s chest as Owen tried to dig further and further, searching for Dylan’s heart. He didn’t even notice when Dylan touched his shredded shirt. “I am sorry,” Dylan whispered as he unleashed his power. “I am truly sorry, Owen,” he said to the red mist that filled the air.

You’re free now. Free from pain. Free from all of this. Free from suffering. I am sorry. Fare well, my friend. May the next life treat you better.

Dylan lay in the growing pool of blood for a moment longer, slowly trying to take stock of his injuries. He had worse pain. But he knew it had to be bad. It didn’t matter. He had to get to Halle. Sweetheart. I’m coming. Hold on. I love you. I love you. I love you.

With a stifled howl of pain, Dylan rolled onto his uninjured side and slowly tried to stand up. He pressed his hand to his gut as he rose on shaking legs, gasping with pain as every muscle protested the movement. He couldn’t stop. He had to keep going. He took two tentative steps on shaking legs. Good enough. I can get us out of here. I’m coming, sweetheart. Hold on.

Halle lay where she had fallen after her head struck the wall. She hadn’t moved during his entire fight with Owen. Please, be ok. You have to be ok. Dylan stumbled over to Halle, collapsing to his knees, relieved to see she was alive.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Dylan said as he braced himself. Carefully Dylan lifted her, stumbling slightly as he tried to get his balance. Though Halle was petite, he struggled to carry her. He knew his wounds were much worse than he initially thought as he struggled to balance. “I’ll get us to the team. They’ll look after you. Just hold on.”

Halle hung limply in his arms, her limbs swaying with his staggering. The room spun around him. No. Just a bit farther. Just a bit longer. Dylan refused to give up, refused to let his body give out. She needs help. I have to get her to help. Hold on, sweetheart. I have you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Dylan only managed to get a few steps before his legs gave out completely. He didn't have the energy to get back up, to carry her and go forward. “Oh,” he sighed. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Halle. I can’t. You’re going to have to walk out of here. I….I can’t carry you. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I…Please wake up soon. Please be ok.”

He held Halle tightly in his arms. He rubbed gentle circles on her back. Dark spots flecked his vision. He shook his head. Come on, sweetheart. You have to be ok. I am alive because you are alive.You have to be alive. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Tags: @beomsstudio @mousepaw @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @eyehartart @corbytheking

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[bugsmoverocks]

a little nervous to share this because i am in no way a good character designer or anything BUT! i've been thinking a lot abt the wayfarer and the witch from the song of the wayfarer lately so here's my personal interpretation of them!!

to avoid making this post a wall of text i'm just going to ramble about my interpretation of their story below the cut so its only a wall of text if you want it to be!

so ya!! i tried to give them similar characteristics to kiwi and miriam (both in appearance and personality) but still having them be their own people. they're not connected to kiwi and miriam in any way they just happen to be similar people in some ways ha. (oh also the wayfarer's outfit is inspired a lot off of wirt from otgw !)

also i should say before i ramble about their story that i don't personally interpret the wayfarer and the witch as being in a romantic relationship. i think they were very close of course but everyone who saw them hanging out together just sorta...assumed it was romantic (similar to how some characters in wandersong assume kiwi and miriam are in a romantic relationship too). but there's no rule book saying you can't be in love with someone platonically !!

okay im gonna try to summarize their story as best as i can so i guess ill start off by saying that i think the two's initial interactions when they first met were. a bit awkward. the witch was not very trusting of the wayfarer for the longest time. with tensions between Rulle and Chaandesh going on, and also just not being used to accepting kindness in general, she sorta just assumed the wayfarer must secretly hate her just for being a witch like other people in Rulle do, and that her kindness must be a trick or something.

but of course that wasn't true, the wayfarer really did just want to be her friend. and after many days of the two just happening to meet in that same forest they met in over and over again, the witch started to believe that. it got to the point where the two would go to the forest just to see each other.

but unfortunately things couldn't stay happy forever. one day, with really no explanation or warning, the wayfarer came down with an illness bad enough to leave her bedridden. the witch of course did her best to help her, but nothing was seeming to work, not even any of her healing magic or potions. after all of her options were exhausted, all she could really do was just stay with the wayfarer and keep her company.

despite everything the witch tried to do, the wayfarer ended up passing away one night. a particularly beautiful night, where there were no clouds in the sky and the stars shone bright. before she passed the wayfarer told the witch that she would be up with those same stars, watching over her, so they really weren't leaving each other. but it still did nothing to stop the witch from feeling a deep and heavy grief at the loss of her only friend.

upon the wayfarer's passing, the people of Rulle immediately put the blame for it on the witch, believing she had cast a deadly curse on her. she became exiled from the kingdom, and the people's distrust of witches only grew worse. so she left, taking nothing back with her - not even her own broom. nobody knows what happened to her after that.

...uhh ya thats it i guess!! there's still some little details ive thought up of for them but this post is already long enough. i dont really know how to end this. ok bye!!

[astro-is-a-bigot]

Hi! I assume this post is about us but reading back through our post (had to do this because of amnesia and wanting to recall exactly what I'd typed) and I realised that I had made a complete misstep in anger, encouraging "flooding his inbox and notifications with hatred" which is so non-specific and not helped by my follow-up statements making it seem as if I would be okay harassing Astro on the same level or even worse than what he is done. This is such a big mistake I will likely private that post - but I'm currently thinking about how I can do that without making it look like I'm erasing those actions.

Note that the following explanation doesn't excuse that, but I will use this to articulate my stance properly.

Like firstly... I completely forgot that death threats were a thing someone might send to Astro. Straight up. I don't know why. I was more thinking along the lines of, "you suck!!" or "get off the site!!" which are kind of mean but definitely nothing along the lines of wishing Astro death. If I had wanted that I would be out here advocating for doxxing-- Which is absolutely not what I want!! As I've been trying to articulate in my follow up posts, I want him to be deplatformed - specifically from Tumblr! Xe can go exist on Reddit for all I care, it's whatever.

And my follow up being, "wouldn't this be wishing violence on Astro?" was so brushed off in my response that, again, it did not come across well. But when it comes to harassment, there's often people who will try to make out like the actions of people banning someone and getting kind of mean towards them is on the same level as the harasser themselves - which completely ignores the context.

The reason sending a bigoted hate towards someone is not necessarily equivalent to sending hate judging someone's morals is - as I believe I've tried to articulate - the difference between upholding bigotry and dismantling it. So while there are lines you don't want to cross, I can't say I'm going to be sympathetic to a bigot if they get sent some mean messages. And this point can easily become frustrating to explain when in one breath people will state to victims "just block the harasser", and yet someone sending a mean message to the harasser themselves results in the critique "you shouldn't be doing that!!" I address this in this post with the following:

[Harassers] also like to define what is "being a good person" because they're betting on you holding yourself to that. They count on your good graces to make you complacent because they tell you, "you wouldn't want to stoop down to our level, would you?" But you know what happens when you don't let the shitty person define for you what being moral is? You get shit done.

In general, I also made the assumption that others would have the same restraint as what I do (I personally have Astro blocked and would never catch myself getting in a back and forth with xem), but that's not what most others do. They don't leave an ask stating, "get off the site" and proceed to block Astro, report him, etc - he insults the other to bait them into starting a reblog chain, and they often fall for it. That is absolutely the kind of behaviour that feeds a troll. (Which I wanna note I still blame Astro for that because I'm not here to victim blame people. If someone gets emotional after being misgendered and sexually harassed, I don't see it as being "on them" for being baited. Especially since it's never okay to sexually harass someone, even if they were "asking for it". Ew.)

So that's a very long explanation of everything, but I hope it clarifies my views. And if you need further elaboration I will provide it. But I'm very sorry to everyone for being so aggressive and completely blundering my initial posts. I hope that doesn't stop others from seeing my point and helping to kick Astro off the site because, it must be said, the one thing that absolutely stops harassers from engaging with their behaviour is when you take away the means to do it...

So yes, deplatforming is very practical behaviour that does not feed the trolls! And if that requires making documents or blogs archiving bad behaviour and calling for action, that is not (contrary to how it appears) "feeding" the behaviour. It is, in fact, necessary to communicate and coordinate as a community to counteract harassment.

friendly reminder that no, death threats are not okay. no, not even to someone that "deserves it". who the fuck are you to determine that. you are not doing some Good Thing even if you see them as a Bad Person. that's a real slippery slope. it's not gonna make them want to change, either, bc why would you change for someone who's saying you should die. this is also about telling people to kill themselves btw. and don't try to justify it bc there's genuinely no way to that doesn't circle back to "it's okay when i do it" and/or "it was justified bc they're Bad™". hope this helps. 👍🏾

[kriskukko]

that sinking feeling when u wrote sex into ur comic and then realize oh yeah where would i even post this they made it illegal on most platforms

[unordinaries]

presented without comment

(chapters 280 + 344)

[outlying-hyppocrate]

well. did you fucking miss me.

[miiiwu]

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[a-blip-of-billdip]

this isnt what i usually post on this blog but I'm already sick of all the memes and 'jokes'. I am almost certainly leaving the fandom for good now because of the book of bills release and NO it is not because billford's community has an influx of supporters.

So the worship and romanticization of asylums and other abusive practices for mental health have been steadily gaining traction in recent years, especially with the rise of tiktok's toxicity.

SO many people, especially younger people, regularly talk about how they want lobotomies or how women they don't like should be lobotomized. They get tattoos of lobotomy like it's some quirky fun thing and not one of the most horrific tortures someone can endure.

These same people, ESPECIALLY leftists, will look at anyone they disagree with or don't like and say "get institutionalized, loser" or "et therapy" and it's always in a mocking way. it's always in a policing way.

because these people know that mental wards strip everyone of their freedom and their bodily autonomy. they know these places arent for healing--theyre for silencing.

So the amount of people i see treating bill being institutionalized like a good thing---even the writers and alex himself?

Yeah. Im out ✌🏼

[dreamteamemojis]

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[ultra-violetra]

so I wanted to say that since I'm really enjoying this event, I will likely continue to post about it, including analysis. I want to talk about the game mechanics and strategies but it's been so hard to do without people thinking you're talking about the discourse. I think as a community we all need to be a little less jumpy about this event, because I've seen posts of people being afraid to talk about the team their watching because they don't want to be dragged into discourse. I think a lot of genuinely lighthearted posts about a fun event are being misconstrued as something malicious

all of my posts are made with the spirit of friendly competition. a lot of other people are posting like this too! people should be able to do this without getting accused of hating ccs or being unfair

i've been posting a lot about red team, specifically because that's who i've been watching the most. i watch pretty much every english speaking qsmp member, it just so happens that right now i have a sub to foolish so i've been watching him so i don't have to deal with ads. because of this, i will probably continue to talk about red team the most. i'll talk about blue and green teams when i watch them! if i had the time to watch vods from every team and do a complete strategy analysis, i would. but I don't have that time. i genuinely don't care which team wins, but that doesn't mean I won't be rooting for certain teams on certain days. like on day 2, red team going from barely visible on the score bar to winning the day was an amazing underdog story! of course i'm going to root for them! and for day 3 I was rooting for green team because i want to see fitmc tryhard!

at the end of the day this is a fun event. it's fun for the ccs so it should be fun for the fandom. and if you're scrolling thru tags and getting upset/annoyed/angry at people posting about a friendly competition, you might need to reevaluate yourself

[swagging-back-to]

not sorry. i extend very little sympathy and patience towards tras who are underage, and the only ones who do get said sympathy are TIFs. but again. it's MICROSCOPIC levels of sympathy.

[phagodyke]

kind of annoys me sometimes how I can happily listen to my roommate explain the entire plot of whatever she's currently into but when it comes to my interests she can only listen for a few mins before wordlessly walking out of the room

[spider-man-2o99]

Just wanted to say that I have been thinking of you and pre-emptively empathizing with the nonsense you are no doubt being flooded with and the psychic damage it must be causing. Keep stanning the king ignore the weirdos <3

thankg u.,, i feel like ive been trapped in a fuckign . Torture Labyrinth these past coupl days . but. wwe will. We Will Yet Persist onwards w/ our hand on the left wall till we;re either out or at the center i swear 2 fucking GOD,