#and so to me it's like. 'ok well why bother'

[silverfairywings]

— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT III

eris vanserra x archeron!reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: sorry for such a long break!! pls let me know what u think and again if you’d like to be added to the tag list send me a message or ask as I rarely check my notifs and go back to them. also sorry abt the cliffhanger uhmmmm also unedited ok bye

“You look like crap.”

Your eyes flutter open to see Mor scrunching up her face as she peers at you from her seat across your own at the dining table. It takes a second for her words to register and you throw a belated scowl her way.

“Good morning to you too,” you mumble, sitting up to continue swirling your spoon around your bowl of barely eaten oatmeal. Your appetite seems to have vanished over the past week, but you try and force a spoonful down your throat, nearly gagging.

Mor narrows her eyes at you and her lips press into a thin line of concern. “No, you seriously look like crap. You’re not eating lately and you were literally asleep at the table when I got here.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” you say, defensively. “I was resting my eyes.”

“You sound like Cassian after a three hour afternoon nap.”

“I’m just having a little trouble sleeping.” You set your spoon down and push the offending bowl away from you before slumping in your seat. You brush off her skeptical look with a wave of your hand. “I’m always like this after absorbing Fae magic.”

And over the last few days you’ve been absorbing a lot. All in an attempt to find out as much as you could about the Fae rebel group that had been attacking the borders of multiple Courts, in order to weaken them and make a point against you.

Well, you and your sisters. Not all of Prythian was accepting of Feyre for how she was Made, and even less so of you and Nesta and Elain. Instead, they viewed you as unnatural mutations and the whispers had only become worse after the War. It seemed that the lack of conflict looming over Prythian was unacceptable in their eyes.

With the help of your powers and Azriel’s shadows, you were closer than ever to finding them. Truthfully, the idea that there were Fae out there who hated you didn’t bother you so much in the sense of feeling like outcasts, but you couldn’t lie. They were starting to be a giant pain in your ass.

“You’re never like this,” Mor scoffs, gesturing to the bags under your eyes and the hollowness of your cheeks. As her voice raises, the pounding of your head gets more intense and you attempt to hold back a grimace. “Why is it affecting you so much this time?”

“It’s the type of magic I’m absorbing,” you practically whine, abandoning all pretences of being okay and allowing your shoulders to drop. “It’s so angry and harsh and impure, Mor! It’s literally making me sick because I have nowhere else to redirect it.”

At that moment Rhysand and Feyre walk in to join you at the table.

Rhysand, having overheard you, chimes in as he reaches for a plate of fruit. “Good news, our little Siphon,” he nudges you lightly, the nickname making you scrunch your nose up in mock annoyance. “We have enough information now to move forward using Az and Cass and resources from other Courts. The only thing we need you to do now is rest.”

Rhysand’s upbeat tone brings a weak smile to your face. You know that he’s being flippant to make you feel better, like he always does when you’re stressed or unwell and you’re nothing but appreciative as he whistles under his breath, nonchalantly piling some fruit onto a plate for you.

“You should have been resting days ago,” Feyre eyes you from beside Rhys with furrowed brows, taking in your tired form. “We told you yesterday would be too much.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Give me a couple hours and I’ll be fine for the meeting in Summer.”

Mor snorts and looks up at you, amused. When you raise an eyebrow, her smile drops into an incredulous expression. “You’re not serious.”

“I need to be there to discuss what I siphoned from that knife we found at the border of Dawn,” you say, holding up a hand and rushing out the rest of your words when Feyre opens her mouth to speak. “And Rhys promised me I would be there since it’ll be all the High Lords, Court informants and even soldiers. I couldn’t possibly not go.”

Feyre sighs, sensing that you’re not going to back down. She nods slowly, pointing at your plate. “Finish all of your breakfast and your lunch later on and then you can go.”

You let out a breath, feeling nauseous when Rhys slides your plate closer to you and simply shrugs when you glare at him. Traitor, you speak to him in your mind. He suddenly becomes very interested in a strawberry.

“Watch me,” you say confidently, waving your fork at Feyre who rolls her eyes at you and goes back to her own breakfast.

Summer court is your least favourite court at the best of times, though you’d never admit that to sweet and kind Tarquin, who’s arguably one of your favourite High Lords.

The beautiful, shimmering lagoons aren’t of interest to you as large bodies of water have always unsettled you. The warm breeze that everyone welcomes always reminds you of the times you had to suffer through sweltering heat when foraging for food with Feyre in your adolescence. You’ve always preferred a colder climate and appreciated a more muted daylight.

Considering your current health, the ripples in the water make you dizzy and the light salty breeze nearly brings your breakfast and lunch up.

You’re thankful for the sheer, thin material of the sage coloured dress that Nuala and Cerridwen chose for you because you suddenly feel a sheen of sweat covering your body.

“Are we done sightseeing?” you ask weakly, desperate to be inside already.

Elain turns to you and winces. “You don’t look too good….”

“Aw, thank you, Elain.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she tuts, coming over to fan your face with her hands. You swat them away, sputtering and try to catch Rhysand’s attention to move things along. He reluctantly agrees and gestures everyone to move along, too used to your aversion to Summer.

As you all enter the palace made of gleaming marble, you hang further back to avoid the watchful eyes of Feyre who seems to be waiting to send you right back home to rest.

The palace is beautiful and you push down your nausea to look around and take in the tall arched windows. The jewelled embellishments adorning the frames trail higher and higher and you crane your neck to see them.

This turns out to be a mistake when your vision starts to blur and another wave of nausea causes your steps to falter, the world tilting sharply.

A firm hand grips your elbow in an all too familiar fashion, steadying you before you’re sent flying to the ground. Another hand settles around your waist where the cutout of your dress exposes your now damp skin, glittering with sweat.

You look up and find Eris’ amber eyes locked onto your own.

“Foolish,” he mutters, his voice sharp with irritation, yet his hands remain steady in their position, holding you up. It’s the first word he’s uttered to you since your encounter a couple of weeks ago in the Spring Court where he’d left on frosty terms. You had seen him twice since then, but it was in the middle of meetings and siphoning sessions and he had barely spared you a single glance.

Your lips part but your senses are too overwhelmed to think of a response before he carries on, lightly shaking his head at you. “You overexert yourself all week and then travel here? What are you trying to prove?”

“I’m fine,” you manage to say, pulling away from him, but his grip only tightens. You can’t help glancing around and noticing that the growing crowd of all the Court officials has separated you from the Inner Circle. You huff out a breath as you register his words. You knew Rhysand had to communicate with the other High Lords with updates, but you didn’t know that included your physical state. “Gods, High Lords are such gossips…”

“You’re not fine,” he says, scowling like you’ve dreadfully inconvenienced him by nearly collapsing. His gaze flickers over the pallor of your skin and the way you’ve started to shiver slightly. “You drained yourself dry this week. And for what? To impress Rhysand? To prove something to him?”

“Let go of me, Eris,” you attempt to snap at him, but even you can hear the lack of strength in your voice. His eyes soften slightly when you say his name without your usual bite. “I can’t have this same conversation with you when I’m like this.”

“You think I want to be the one always catching you from falling on your face? Trust me when I say I have things I would rather be doing,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes.

You grit your teeth at the reminder and heat flares in your cheeks, whether it’s from embarrassment, anger or the climate of Summer, you don’t know.

Before you can retort, Eris sighs and straightens you up, still not fully letting you go. Releasing the hand around your waist, he loops your arm in his own and makes you lean on him for support. To your utter surprise, he doesn’t say anything as he starts walking towards the meeting room where everyone else files in. Despite your frustration, you’re grateful for his strength.

The moment of blissful silence doesn’t last too long, however. As he begins to lead you to where your family is stood and clearly looking around frantically for you, Eris leans in to whisper in your ear. “You need to sit down at the table,” he orders quietly, High Lord behaviour on full display.

You’re about to argue that no one else is going to be sat and he immediately catches this, cutting you off. “Don’t be stubborn for once in your life,” he murmurs, breath warm against your ear, making you shiver more than you already were. “Please?”

You quickly turn your head to meet his, shocked at the pleading in his voice. You didn’t realise how close this would bring your own face to his and words leave you. Thankfully, you’ve reached your family as you hear Cassian’s loud voice and it snaps you out of your little bubble.

“Finally!” he exclaims, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “We were about to send a search and rescue team, thinking you’d finally collapsed.”

“Why didn’t you?” Eris asks, coldly.

Cassian merely rolls his eyes at Eris’ attitude and gestures at Azriel.

Feyre comes forward to take your other arm in hers and explains. “Azriel’s shadows informed us that you were with her, Eris.” She smiles warmly and sincerely at him and Rhysand nods at him in recognition of his actions. “Thank you for looking after my sister.”

Eris shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet. I foresee many falls in her near future that I’m sure I won’t be present for.”

Feyre’s mouth twitches, but she quickly smoothes her face into an expressionless one when you frown at her and she busies herself with disentangling you from Eris.

He takes a step back, dark and fiery hair catching the sunlight through the tall windows and glances at you once more, not breaking eye contact, yet his words are directed towards Feyre. “Just make sure she sits down. The Night Court doesn’t need a martyr,” he says drily, before walking away.

Your mouth goes dry at the double meaning in his words, but you can’t shake off the shock at seeing genuine concern in his eyes. You must have looked practically near death, but you appreciated it all the same and you don’t even realise your eyes are lingering on him as he walks away until Feyre sits you down next to Nesta.

Your older sister raises an eyebrow at you, always so intuitive and you swat weakly at her to look away from you. Cassian’s eyes flit back and forth between you two, confused.

Before he can say anything, the meeting commences and you feel a shift in the energy of the room, full to the brim of Court officials, emissaries, a few warriors and of course, the High Lords around the table.

Your turn to speak comes fairly quickly since the most information regarding the Rebels is from you and Azriel. As per Rhysand’s instructions, you don’t go into any details regarding your siphoning powers, instead just sharing the information you gained due to them. You try to ignore the way people are staring at your weak form, but you continue to speak with all the strength you can muster. Evidently, you’re doing a convincing job as people start to nod, satisfied and scribble things down.

When Azriel’s turn arrives, you zone out a little, already having heard everything a few times over. Your ears only perk up when everyone is discussing plans of action against the Rebels and a question is asked in your general direction.

“Who are we thinking is to be at the front lines of this hypothetical mission?” The question comes from one of the Spring Court advisors, Vaelith, an older Fae with silver hair gathered in one long braid down his back.

His gaze lingers on you for only a split second before moving onto Rhysand and you feel compelled to answer. “Myself and Azriel,” you blurt out, before you can think twice. “And others of course, but the two of us are the most familiar with-”

“We’re all aware of the Shadowsinger’s abilities,” Vaelith interrupts you, holding up a hand to stop you from talking. You hold back a scowl. “What makes you suitable to lead such a mission aside from your… familiarity with a selection of items left behind by these Rebels?”

“I’m more than able to-” you cut yourself off and swallow, gaining yourself a second to think of a way to defend yourself without giving away your powers, as per your High Lord’s request.

Careful, Y/N

Rhysand’s voice sounds clear as day in your head and you try not to wince at the volume considering the silence of the rest of the room. The other High Lords knew of your powers, but Rhysand had requested they keep it to themselves, even from their own Court officials. Whether or not Rhysand had used his Daemati abilities to ensure this, you didn’t want to know.

“I’m more than able to assist in a plan of action,” you continue firmly, voice hardening. “I’m not sure if you remember a certain War we just had, but you may wish to remind yourself who was at the front lines of that.”

A few laughs break the tense silence and some people start muttering, slowly raising the volume of the room. You almost don’t hear Vaelith’s next words. “You haven’t really answered my question.”

“Let’s use our senses, Vaelith,” a voice rings out from further down the table and you’re startled to realise that Eris is speaking up. The room finally quietens down and you sit up impossibly straight, surprised that Eris is about to defend you.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

He only spares you a fleeting glance, but even from your seat you could see it’s full of amusement and mocking. The thing that surprises you is that the mocking is directed at you. “Look at her. Are you really questioning the abilities of a female who barely has the strength to sit up in her seat, let alone fight?”

Your stomach drops, a ball of humiliation unfurling in your chest as he continues to speak.

“I’d like to believe Rhysand has more sense than to send someone on the frontlines who would just be doing the rebels a favour,” Eris drawls, raising an eyebrow at Rhys, still avoiding your gaze.

Rhysand nods. “I can assure you I’ll only be sending my strongest soldiers, Vaelith,” he smirks, faintly, as though the implication he’d do anything to suggest otherwise is laughable. “Now may we discuss matters of actual importance? Tarquin, what have your soldiers been preparing?”

The tension dissolves almost immediately, but you’re still shellshocked, shaking with anger rather than weakness now. It’s as though you’ve been pumped with a burst of adrenaline and it doesn’t seem to be dampening.

After the conversation has shifted to a completely different subject, you shift from your seat as discretly as possible and mutter to Nesta that you need some air before standing up.

You look at the High Lord of Autumn before you walk away, but it only infuriates you more. Eris doesn’t look anywhere near you, but his jaw is clenched all the same, as though he can feel you glaring at him.

Mor catches your arm as you’re walking out and hisses in your ear. “You’re still not well,” she turns her body fully towards you. “Wait for me to come with you.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, shaking your head and clenching your fists to keep them from trembling as you speak through gritted teeth. “I feel suddenly energised. I’ll only be outside.”

Mor gives you a once over and is clearly satisfied with the fact that you’re unlikely to collapse again as she nods and releases your arm, allowing you to rush through the crowd of people and push through the guards.

You walk briskly away from the doors of the meeting room and further down the empty hallway until you’re satisfied that no one will hear your heavy breathing.

You lean against a pillar, exhaling in and out to control your anger and keep the tears at bay. Gods, you feel so stupid. Of course, Eris is incapable of being a decent male to anyone, let alone to you. Damn him and his cruel smirk and damn Rhysand too for allowing it to happen.

Brushing away the tears that have managed to fall, you curse yourself for not just pushing him away and allowing yourself to collapse on the hard marble flooring. It was giving you whiplash the way he could be so full of concern one second and practically call you useless in front of a room full of officials the next.

The longer you stand against the marble pillar, the weaker you begin to feel and that burst of adrenaline you previously felt is no longer present. The anger that fuelled you mere seconds ago is now winding you and a rising sense of panic begins to consume you.

You decide to turn around to walk back so you’re closer to the doors of the meeting room in case you embarrassingly do collapse.

However, the second you take a step, a flash of movement in the corner of your eye is all the warning you get before strong arms clamp around you from behind and a cloth is pressed against your mouth and nose, preventing you from breathing. You can’t even scream as the scent of something strong and chemical floods your senses, making your vision blur.

You thrash around in an attempt to use the little strength you have left to escape, but the arms only grip you harder and the world begins to spin. The last thing you feel is the cool marble floor as your knees give out and no one bothers to catch you as you hit the ground, darkness swallowing you whole.

tag list: @fabulouslyflamboyant @deepestmentalityperson @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @abysshaven @nayaniasworld @rcarbo1 @paleidiot @tenshis-cake @bunnyredgirl @goldenmagnolias @whydohumansss @fandomtrash465 @mrsbarnes32557038 @aaprilshowers @scarsandallaz @-im-fantastic- @cat-or-kitten @annamariereads16 @adelina-127 @onlymexsarah @puddlesplasher17 @eyes-capone @hermaeuswhora

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

ok the way gem actually was walking towards pearl's general area while pearl was holding the mace. and idk if she actually saw pearl but im pretty sure gem looked up, turned back and walked right to where skizz asked her to??? and pearl just had to stand there and watch as gem basically gave the kill to skizz. like ohhh my god i have so many thoughts about this but all i can say rn is what in the world of yuri.

- 🐫

it’s so funny how they spent half their episodes effectively trying to provoke the other person as much as possible

i mean, do i even need to explain. they want each other baaaaad. on surface it might seem like another failing-to-kill-gem bit, especially with the comical sequences of pearl putting down the creeper eggs and gem easily dodging. however, both pearl and gem approach their “designated” roles of would-be killer and exasperated target a little differently than they did before. pearl doesn’t try her best, and gem doesn’t mock her like she did mumbo/tango.

gem and pearl hold each other in high esteem. even when they hate each other they obviously still respect the other’s skill. i suspect this is part of why gem was so offended when pearl tried to “2v1” her with impulse; because pearl was being stupid by underestimating herself, and then obviously because it was SL all over again.

let’s not even talk about both of them beelining for a camel. this is by far the number one WL ship right now in terms of content and actual interactions (besides ethubs). it’s not shipper mind, they’re actively pulling these stunts to see how crazy they can drive the fandom. like, the thirsty comment, “my poor red pearl”, “gem you’re beautiful”??? i swear they’re scheming on discord before recording or something (jk i know they aren’t).

cc!pearl did mention on stream that she should probably back off which is funny because it shows she didn’t pick up the obvious social cues that gem wanted to give her a chance by offering a 1v1 instead of flat out saying “don’t kill me” or “you suck at killing me”. also, if there are other pearl stream watchers reading this post, you would know that pearl said the same thing about not wanting to bother gem too much over the pickle bit, which is why she dropped it so suddenly. honestly very considerate of her

as for their convo on the camel. gem is explicitly grasping at straws over the end portal thing, but “did you even look me in the face during the murder camel… thing” is a great one-liner out of context. i thought it was going to be like a “you couldn’t even face me properly” but no it was just over the yellow life skin. pearl defending the disloyal allegations by saying scar was her ally is funny as well because it was the exact same argument she gave scott and i don’t think she understands that gem and scott have very different priorities. and gem clarifies she wasn’t upset over the betrayal (suree) but over the 2v1 which reveals some interesting things about her character and moral code which i’ll leave to the gem mains*. i do hope pearl keeps up the “how much do you love/hate me” thing though it’s a funny bit in general, plays into the pining/unmoved dynamic, and opens up the conversation. fluff duo that wants to be angst so badly

and if you’re following me and for some reason don’t watch gem or pearl, please do. there’s a reason why everyone’s saying they’re flirting because they’re toeing the line as close as you can.

what can i even add to this. it’s like going to a michelin restaurant and pointing out that the food is good.

*i always say this but i am effectively a gem main. i think her character is just too difficult for me and i don’t want to admit that i can’t figure out how to approach it

[panpanghost]

Part 6 of this,

Macaque kept his eyes on Wukong as he flew away. When he couldn't see him anymore, loneliness took over his heart.

He just left, Why do I miss him already? Daaaamn *sigh* I'm so pathetic. No time to think like that. Macaque slapped his face with both hands.

The kid is still out there. If only I could use my glamour and talk to him. Come on Macaque, think! There should be a way to talk to him without having to show myself.

Macaque flopped on the bed.

But... Wukong truts him. He left my life in his hands. Maybe I could trust him too. He was with me and Wukong in the room when I woke up. But then I still had my glamour on, I lost most of my magic when I tried to open a portal to get to the kitchen. The more I tried to use my powers the more I lost them. I can't believe how much I've fallen. I need to get better soon, I can't keep being a burden to Wukong. If only I can remember what this crown is, I can break the spell, but most of my memories are gone!

Macaque grabbed a pillow and put it on his face to muffle the scream he was about to let out _"AAAAAGGGHHH!!!! THIS IS FRUSTRATING!"

Macaque let out an angry growl then got up and paced in the room, here and there, thinking of a plan to suck the information dry from that kid.

I only need one spell to work, one to cover my ears, it's ok if the scars stay, I'll just cover them with some clothes, not my eye though...

Something pinched Macaque's heart as he traced his eye. Whatever happened that day, even with no memories, he knows it hurt him deeply. He shook his head and pushed these thoughts back. If it were something important, Wukong would've told him.

Maybe I can cast a strong spell and keep feeding the crown until I've finished with the kid. It'll hurt though... so damn much... Even if I lose my memories again, Wukong will take care of me. I hate the way he treats me like some delicate flower but I hate feeling like a lost idiot even more. I have a lot of information in my brain, hopefully I'll lose some unimportant ones.

This is my only choice.

Macaque stood in the middle of the room. He took a few deep breaths preparing himself for the pain to come. He will regret this, He knows.

One spell later and he could feel needles through his entire body, he wanted to scream but held it in and breathed the pain out as much as he could. On the other hand, one look at the mirror showed him that his plan worked, he just needs to make it for a few minutes without falling or showing he's about to pass out. Easy....

A few steps to the door made him reconsider, it was too much to handle, he must stop-

*Knock knock knock* the knock startled Macaque, he was too focused on the pain to hear anything around him.

_"Macaque are you in there?" the kid spoke to him from behind the door, "I don't mean to bother you but I got some extra noodles for you. It's a get well gift from the gang and me."

Gang? What gang? It doesn't matter. He's here. An opportunity I can't miss.

Macaque opened the door feeling cuts through his body with every move. Just a few more minutes...

_"Oh Macaque!" the kid spoke, his eyes big and full of delight, all because he saw Macaque, it somehow hit a soft spot in Macaque's heart,

"I was worried you wouldn't want to see me. I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude but I was really worried because I haven't seen you in weeks and whenever I ask Monkey King he'd say you're busy or something and I started to think that you hate me now and don't want to see me because I let you down and..."

This kid needs therapy.

_"Easy kiddo." Macaque said, trying to sound normal, it's like shards of broken glass in his face and throat. But he can handle it, he'll feel worse if he kept being useless to Wukong. "I was just upset that's all."

_"Really?" the kid looked at him like a puppy in the rain. Why does he look so much like Wukong?!

_"Of course. You've done nothing wrong." Macaque spoke trying his best to hold on, this kid is a chatty one, a golden goose for information.

_"Thanks.." The kid said, looking a little relieved, "Uhh... Can I come in?" he asked, hints of anxiety on his face even with the smile.

_"Sure." Macaque stepped away from the door, holding his breath, holding the sounds of pain, then let out a long exhale,

_"You seem down." The kid said, putting the bags on the table then turning to face Macaque, eying him with worry.

_"This whole thing is tiring me." Macaque said with a little reassuring smile,

_"Yeh.. ok..." the kid looked down, then sat on the bed before he spoke again, "Umm... Thank you."

_"Hm?" What for?

_"You know... For staying, even though you and monkey king aren't on good terms." the kid still couldn't hold his gaze up to Macaque, he just looked to his side,

_"Good terms?" I'm not on good terms with Wukong? Why?

_"OK. Fine. You hate each other. But still... I'm happy you accepted our help. I was so worried you'd dissappear the second you got better."

We hate each other? I left before? When? Why?

_"Well, I hit a dead end at one point, the sooner this is over, the better it is." Macaque shrugged then headed to the noodles, he can hold on just a little longer,

_"Are you- Are you leaving once we solve this?"

_"..." What is he talking about?

_"Can't you stay? I mean is it really that bad to be around us?"

_"I'll think about it once this thing is off." I don't know either kid,

_"You're staying!" the kid literally glowed,

_"I didn't say that. I said I'll think about it when we get to it." Macaque said turning to face the kid,

_"I'll take that as a maybe." he smiled at him that mischievous smile,

_"*sigh* So?"

_"Hm?"

_"Did you find anything useful?" Macaque could feel his heartbeat grow faster, he's runnig out of time,

_"Oh! We found out its name but we still can't tell what it's for. Monkey king said he'd look into it, so we're waiting for him."

_"What's its name?" Hurry up kid!

_"Monkey king didn't tell you? It's the corrupted king's crown, but the info we found about it-" The kid stopped as he saw Macaque's face fill with terror, "Macaque?"

_"The corrupted king's crown..." Macaque muttered before the pain got 10× worse, the crown isn't just taking his magic anymore, it's trying to kill him,

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" he yelled and fell to his knees holding his head, trying desperately to get the crown off,

_"Macaque!" the kid yelled and ran to him,

_"KID LISTEN! AGH! They want- They want to put- *pant pant* egh- someone- else's soul in my body-"

_"Who?!" MK doesn't understand anything, what's happening to Macaque?!

_"The- The king has guards- AAAAAAAAAGH!"

_"I'll get Monkey King!" The kid stood up, looking around for help or where to start,

_"DON'T. AAAAAGH! DON'T-" Macaque couldn't say another word before he passed out.

The room fell silent. MK stood there for a second not knowing what to do. He needs help, Macaque is in worse shape than he thought, what should he do? Who should he call? Should he just wait for Macaque to wake up? What should he do?

(I know it took too long and it's not that good but I tried my best ok? T^T. I still don't like it though but I'm glad it ended.

And yes, still no title, I don't know where this is going so I can't come up with a name.)

[rubberbandballqueen]

amatonormativity is crazy bc every so often, my coworkers will gossip abt one of the kids at camp having an obvious crush or whatever, and maybe i just don't get scheduled for enough camp shifts, but i never have ANY idea what the hell they're talking about

[ramshacklefey]

All of this, and some more thoughts:

First, just to be clear, nothing here is disagreeing with you at all op, especially not saying you shouldn't love and enjoy the designs that speak to you. I'd just like to expand on your ideas with some thoughts I've had about masc Murderbot designs, why people make them, and maybe some more ideas about what bothers people about them.

One of the reasons I find this trend interesting is that it runs counter to the very common trend of assuming that genderless/agender = woman lite. But the majority of Murderbot designs I've seen don't fit that mold. So, why is this that?

A couple things may go into it:

Both versions of the audiobooks have MB narrated by a man with a relatively low voice. For people (even trans people!), the immediate association there is with a man/masculine character, even if those people would never say that, eg, a trans woman with a deep voice is less of a woman for it.

(And this may be an even bigger element for a lot of people) Murderbot's personality and the role it plays in the story both fit a stereotypical mold for male characters. It's snarky, emotionally constipated, a bit of a loner, physically powerful, and does a lot of combat. Don't get me wrong here! I'm not saying that any of those things are inherently masculine, just that they are traits that are, in conventional storytelling and most of the media that people have experience with, almost exclusively given to men. Even if a woman/nonbinary person has those traits, they're usually portrayed visually as very masculine or those things are set up as being deeply incongruous with their appearance. (This one is especially apparent in the hmmm... less trans focused... segments of the fandom where, you may have noticed, people have an (infuriating) tendency to misgender MB as he/him, but I have yet to hear someone refer to it as "she.")

And so, to a lot of people, Murderbot immediately reads as masculine, even though there is nothing about any of the stuff above that is inherently tied to being masc/a man.

Now, I am in complete agreement with OP here that this is all absolutely fine! More masc nonbinary or agender characters is a fantastic thing that we need in media.

Simultaneously, we could also use more characters who are not masc in appearance who have those same traits! And for people who really want to see more of that, especially to see themselves reflected in that way, the majority of Murderbot designs being masc can be frustrating. A lot of people have similarly expressed a strong desire to have a version of the audiobooks read by someone with a different sort of voice, and I think that would be excellent as well.

All of that being said, we can and should 100% focus on uplifting and appreciating all these different artists and their ideas! This is a character who means so much to so many people in so many different ways, and as a fandom we have so so so much space to create and celebrate that diversity (with all the characters tbh. Martha Wells, intentionally or not, gave us such a gift by not describing anyone's appearance in any amount of detail).

(Ok, last note here: I am using the terms "masc" and such in a way that references the way that people in general perceive things, not as an absolute statement about what things actually are. Just to be clear there).

Okay so, I've been sitting on if i should make this post or not for a while but with some of the tags I saw on a recent post mentioning the same thing, I decided to go ahead and say my piece: in my own words:

I've seen some posts in the main tags essentially saying something to the effect of "why do people always draw MB as masculine and not androgynous"

As someone who, like Murderbot, does not have a gender (rather, in my case, associate with one) this always rubs me the wrong way and makes me feel a bit bad about my own identity, which suck because to me, this fandom is a safe space to speak of gender, sexuality and a slew of other things. Like I said, I am gnc, afab in fact; but I look like a guy, I like looking like a guy, I actively try to look like a guy... but i am not a guy. I dont feel like a guy, i just like looking like one. That doesn't mean my identity as a nonbinary/gnc person is suddenly erased because I don't fall under your narrow minded idea that all nonbinary/gnc people need to be androgynous.

I don't owe you perfect androgyny, no one owes you any level of androgyny.

MB is a fictional character with next to no physical descriptions; its not hurting anyone if someone sees it/draws it as masculine or even feminine. You don't get to dictate how people see it, especially when they base it's appearance on themselves

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[ineed-to-sleep]

Would you guys call me a spoilsport if I said I don't like the "come to brazil" meme and wish ppl would stop talking about partying & beaches & bikinis whenever they try to "compliment" brazilian culture. ��🏻👈🏻?

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,

if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."

i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,

i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason

[stinkrascal]

i am afraid i had a really cute dream about the skullfu—i mean skull-liker emmrich. it’s getting bad you guys. if we dont kiss today i dunno……might not make it……

[simcardiac-arrested]

can we talk about no way back. hi . Hello ! i want to talk about this (-1 HP) drawing (-1 HP) that you've made (-1 HP)(-1 HP)(-1 HP)

Hi. um. what if the cracks started showing

[ahotknife]

another drawback to being single/living alone is that cooking an entire meal/recipe for one person is nearly impossible to justify. they do not sell single portion amounts of raw meat etc unless you go to like a butcher counter but then it’s always more expensive… don’t say “freeze the extra” i’m trying to complain. & trying new recipes is BORING if there’s nobody there but me to vote on whether it stays in rotation. there are so few recipes/cookbooks scaled for single portions, or at least minimal leftovers. sometimes i do wonder if i am just making up problems or if other people feel this way. when i did not live alone i was cooking three square baby always something new or different and now im like. well. there are six different kinds of cereal in my pantry that’s all i have to say about the current state of my kitchen

[spizgany-lipejs]

For some it might be just a red t-shirt but for me this is peak 00s european gay club fashion and you can't take it away from me.

[britneyshakespeare]

i was crying in front of a sidewalk tonight and someone in a passing car asked to me through their window "you alright?" honestly didnt even know what they expected

[wilsonthemoose]

Teachers who set extremely personal topics for class presentations are the worst.

Analyze yourself according to all the theories we've discussed and present your development to the class.

Excuse?

[blackvahana]

I'm (mostly) keeping Purple Orange and Gold out of this because I haven't been working with them recently, but like. You have. Deus Ex Machina in the way of The Organic Is Machine And He Will Change You To Change Reality, you have Death and War and natural disasters, you have the One to Whom Soldiers Are Sacrificed In War. I'm looking at selves like...

The parts of myself I keep hidden are. all parts, because these are all ultimately halves of aspects and if you suppress an aspect you suppress the aspect... but I see the way I bleed into people. I see the Violent Mother, the one who will bleed your body out on her altar and who tears apart the bodies of the enemy to protect her hatchlings. Ive tried to stay human, but ultimately... this flesh, this soul flesh, eats human bodies. This takes human sacrifices. This tears apart countries, this drives people into psychosis, this pours revelation into eyes that either adapt to handle it or go mad, literally.

The whole part of Godhood is that you are what you are and you actively are it, you actively Be it. This - Dei - is the mergence of opposites which is in itself both the unification of opposites and the rending of similarities in one. Creation Through Destruction.

I'm constantly sitting here grasping at the shredded fabrics I have left (they're shrinking over time) of humanity and. guys. shh. the humans don't like this stuff. Guys, I'm not dancing and infecting people, I'm trying so hard to be quiet down here

[goldensunset]

so we back in the mines (mistralton cave)