#i want to drag one specific individual all the way down to hell with me i want to fucking end this cycle of abuse one way or another

[tshifty]

.

[rockybloo]

Slightly (or extremely) unrealistic scenario but it’s funny (at least to me) so I’m sharing it:

A random person (preferably a woman) asks Sweetheart and Bitterbat “Do you think I’m pretty?” And, Sweetheart being the sweetheart she is (pun intended 🙂) says “Of course!” Bitterbat on the other hand is like “Yeah, but not as pretty as my girlfriend.” And then Sweetheart just looks at him with a serious face and says “Did you just tear down another woman in the age of the Barbie movie?” Bitterbat confused starts sputtering and before he can say anything else she drags him away saying “We’re having a talk about this when we get home.” Leaving the poor individual just as confused.

…The point is Sweetheart is a feminist no doubt (actually some doubt because you’re the creator so…)

I thought the Barbie movie was cute but...it was def very much 2010s Tumblr feminism for me. As in it just...really lacked dimension for my tastes.

So I don't particularly see it as something that speaks to Sweetheart save for her pointing at Ken during the earlier scenes and telling Bitterbat "Look it's you".

This is a long one so buckle up

In a situation where a woman randomly asked them (while they were their civilian selves) their opinion on her appearance, I imagine this would happen on a mall date where they are probably shopping for make up or clothing. And I imagine this is just someone wanting some outside views on herself to make an opinion on what to get. Or maybe it could even be a random street interaction.

Sweetheart would of course say she looked pretty since...well she isn't called sweetheart for nothing. And she would hype her up some to give her more confidence just for a extra nice cherry on top since she knows how it feels to have low self esteem when it comes to appearances.

Sweetheart also knows her man. She knows he thinks she is beauty herself and no one compares. She can also read Bitterbat's body language and knows he can be blunt as hell. She knows regardless of gender, that man will hurt someone's feelings.

So all she needs to do is give Bitterbat look. A very specific look he knows very well.

It's that "BEHAVE" look.

Bitterbat does what Sweetheart tells him, verbal or not, and he agrees with Sweetheart with a big ole artificially sweet smile. He enters that good ole customer service mode he takes when he knows being "himself" might lead to upsetting Sweetheart, and compliments the woman's appearance enough to send her on her way.

He's a smart guy and he knows his way around emotions very well. It's what makes him dangerous because of how well he can play people.

And once the woman walks away, beaming and happy, Bitterbat drops the act and Sweetheart just gives that amused sigh as she shakes her head some.

"Boy, if you don't stop being mean" But there's a chuckle to it because she finds it somewhat entertaining.

Bitterbat just does that smug ass expression where his forked tongue peeks from his mouth before pecking her on the cheek.

As for Sweetheart being a feminist, I don't really slap labels on OCs save for their race or ethnicity, their sexual orientation, and gender identity.

Labels don't give good enough insight into how a character really thinks so I don't wanna give one to a character and have people misread them.

So, to give her stance on gender based stuff, Sweetheart certainly believes everyone should be equal and that men shouldn't be deemed better than women. She also doesn't believe all men are complete heartless assholes or vilianizing masc things. Nor should more feminine things be deemed weaker and pathetic.

She also loves trans people and believes that women's rights should include trans women as well and that trans rights are human rights. And she believes that change cannot be achieved through the demonization of people just because of their gender identity or sexuality.

If that is what Feminism stands for then yeah, she totally is one.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

really happy I'm not American. your country sucks more dicks than a kicked-out teenager forced to do prostitution to survive. also, you guys are so fucking fat and prude while we Danes and Swedes have nude beaches with children are allowed and you literally have to search to see fatties.

This seems like one of your first attempts at trolling, so I'm gonna be nice and give you some helpful tips.

Don't try to be witty. "your country sucks more dicks than a kicked-out teenager forced to do prostitution to survive" is much too long and comes off as you desperately trying to imitate the kind of quippy dialogue you saw in a Joss Whedon or Quinten Tarantino movie. If you really want to get somebody mad, stick to the basics. "Your country sucks" gets the point across clearly and has a much higher chance of provoking an emotional response.

You need a tighter focus on the specific thing I'm supposed to get mad at. In your ask, you mention two American stereotypes, that we're all fat, and that we're all prudes. Two stereotypes is probably the limit you can fit into one troll ask without seeming like you're just throwing things at the wall to see what sticks, but I'd still recommend sticking to one.

Don't give your target the ammo they need to drag your ass in your troll attempt. Right after you get into the fat and prude stereotypes, you mention your country has nude beaches with children as a positive, and right there I have at least three different ways I can turn this back around on you. And that's without going for the low hanging fruit and just calling you a pedo. Which brings me to

Don't troll on main. I know you think you're being brave by not going anon, but really you're just giving your target the opportunity to amplify your mistakes. Just a quick glance through your blog shows that you probably hang around at least a few people who are very judgmental and unforgiving of mistakes. Also that you like Hackers, which is a point in your favor. Your post style indicates you write with emotion and then send, instead of taking a moment to reread what you wrote and see if it will give the impact you're looking for. I've seen this lead to many unforced errors from people on social media. Usually in the form of a slur or seven, or suicide bait, or similar things. All of these things are, of course, expected from anons, but you might not like what happens if you slip up with your actual account. Callout posts and ostracizing from friends or mutuals who want to get back at you for some real or imagined slighty may just be the tip of that iceberg. If nothing else, it makes it much easier for some nefarious individual to mass report your blog and get it taken down when you troll openly. And finally,

Put some effort in. I know I already mentioned low hanging fruit, but I never explained why avoiding it is beneficial. Chances are, anyone outside your own age group (assuming the 1995 in your blog name is your birth year, which if it is, probably not the best thing to share online with how easy doxxing is these days) has been around long enough to get a few troll asks in their day. Especially if they're right wing political blogs. The "Americans are fat and prudish" stereotypes are old and played out. We don't particularly care what a bunch of Europeans who can't even handle mild summer weather think about our eating or bedroom habits. Hell, on the right, you're more likely to find people who take prude as a compliment. If you really want to bother us, you should pounce on the issues of the day. Take the dumbest possible position on a political issue and then earnestly act like it's what you truly believe. As a European, this should come naturally. It's your best shot at actually getting us mad. Though, we are pretty used to European lefties showing their whole ass when trying to comment on American politics, so your mileage may vary on that one. (Oh, a "mile" is a unit of distance measurement. Sort of like a kilometer, but bigger and better.)

I really do hope this helped. Good luck on your next trolling attempt!

[mejomonster]

Justice in the dark, ep 7 and 8:

Crying screaming I am fulfilled in life in a way I didn't think I would be. In a month or 2 I suppose I'll feel this way even more. Wow ;-; anyway it's like. It's like Beyond Evil but I know for a fact they're 2 bitches in love. And they have a juicy history of caring too deeply for each other for years which is the cherry on top of this deluxe Sunday and my sweet tooth isn't strong enough but I'm devouring it anyway. Feel absolutely spoiled rotten. Must be what Fei Du feels like when Luo acts Like That. You know. Now not Everyone wants "murder mystery psychological thriller a la Flower of Evil with a core Queer Romance between the leading heros" but that Is an Ideal thing I deeply desire. So I am having a ball. The best time. A better time than I ever thought could be had. It's like if Flower of Evil was gay idk what to tell you. Do you want gay Flower of Evil or do u dislike horror so much u can't do it? Fair enough if you can't but for those of us who DO eat up murder mystery thrillers and have been wanting some bigger queer romances in the mix we already dearly love? Having a phenomenal fucking time. This show IS that kind of story, that kind of genre. It's made (I suppose similar to written) for the people who really do want a fucked up psychological thriller murder mystery to sink deeply into and get terrified and angry and theorize and suspect and not be certain and be on edge wondering Discovering thrilled. With a fucking superb defining bond between the leads (of love <3 yes I'm a mushy sap) to top it all off. Like I said, like Flower of Evil style show with queer leads. It's certainly what I Want in the world. I want 20 to exist 40 60 100 so many we can't even watch them all!!

Anyway now down to tinier specific stuff lol.

The birthday scene just <3. Wrecked Me <3. I needed it to last forever. It reminds me of every specific reason for me that I ship them so much, care about them individually and together so much. Just hit me through the heart and squeezed the whole time. Fei Du in the accident and Luo Wenzhou running worried because it's his fei du in danger and Fei Du will never fucking KNOW Luo wenzhou was so worried, probably called the ambulance and rode with him, all the way up into the doctors visit Fei Du WAS awake for. Then in a very pangzi from dmbj move, Luo Wenzhou laughed. He laughed because Fei Dus dad was in a car accident and the similarity could've scared or traumatized fei du (hell much less couldve - and later Luo notes Fei even jumps from cake so Luo is AWARE his boys on edge). He laughed because it's comforting, warm, safe, no one yelling no one trying to kill him just stupid Luo making his stupid jokes irritating Fei SO much he'll glare and tighten his smile in annoyance and start thinking "I'm gonna kill you Luo Wenzhou shut the FUCK up i am GOING to kill you" so Fei Du will stop worrying. A pangzi from dmbj move to make himself the punching bag and tell stupid jokes to make a deadly situation seem safe and something they're in total control of and therefore their loved one Fei Du doesn't need to worry. And of course on another level it's Luo doing everything he can to lessen his own short term fear - he was so scared fei would be like feis dad in a car accident. So he's laughing in fucking relief, his boy is just slightly injured. He's laughing to shake off the panic he had earlier, to move on past it and drag Fei into moving on too. It's so sweet. And Fei Dus internal monologue with every annoying cunt think Luo Wenzhou says that day is surely "I'm going to KILL you old man shut the FUCK up I'm gonna kill you" but in that way that's like no fei won't kill him ToT he'll just shout it at him and give him stares that are especially for King of Annoyance Luo on this earth.

The sell him off ToT. Fei Du playing back. Them both being little shits Just absolute bastards to each other. I love that stage of their enemies constantly Snipping to THlS finding a way to do both argue in Feis safe zone and actually get along. Fei jumping at the cake and it being so raw. Because fei du probably doesn't show he gets frightened to other people but Luo sees it. He also lets Luo surprise him in a way he lets few surprise him. It's just all so sweet. And Luo again in a very pangzi from dmbj way makes a light joke of Feis response revealing how terrified he often is, to smooth it over so Fei Can relax quickly again. Luo Wenzhou is home to Fei Du, and rhis whole sequence was like Fei Du the rebellious teen coming come again after a journey out of the nest growing up (which I suppose it kind of was). It was fei du being taken home, being welcomed so he KNOWS he's allowed back into this. That when Luo got mad at him as a teen, he didn't mean to scare Fei away, to isolate Fei, and that Fei is welcome to belong here and live here like when he was younger. That this entire place belongs to Fei Du even when Tao Ran isn't here to "let" him into Luos world (because usually since their conflicts when fei was younger Tao would be an intimacy buffer - especially at homes, fei du goes to Tao Rans but not Luos house, Luo and feis recent private meetings have been part by chance and part Luo intentionally trying to reach out more in public places). Fei Du is being told you're allowed here without Tao Ran. I accept you as is, with anything you've done or are doing now, this is your home and I'm sorry I scared you away and you had to return to the mansion where dinner was never as pleasant as this.

I am so Glad the dinner was awkward. It was true to character. And so unique to their personal dynamic. And I love their dynamic in part so much because it Really is specific. They aren't strangers who met and fell in love. They aren't god/ghost ghost/human (shen wei and zhao yunlan to be fair have a bit of a unique thing going on cancyou tell I love unique ones ToT but overall like. The shared history. The crime that fucked them up. The tumultuous relationship through the years, the vulnerability and honesty and CARE. The influence on each other. Again I gotta say while Flower of Evil is DIFFERENT in a ton of ways in its romance, the main couples romance is also fairly unique at times and you think to yourself "of course these particularly intense niche people fell for Each other... it never could be anyone else, they never would have clicked like THIS with anyone else. No one would be this endlessly in love with them through all of This and keep trusting and keep Trying to understand each other." Idk how to describe just. Fei Du and Luo Wenzhou really appeal to me and there's so much to explore and I feel this birthday dinner was a tiny fraction displaying that.

And the flashback Fei Du had during dinner. The day he felt the place was no longer home anymore. The present afterwards where Luo IS trying so hard to fix that past distance. And fix it with no buffer this time, no Tao to soften the blow like he used to. Luo is being vulnerable and open and if Fei Du HAD wanted to lash out and attack the dinner would have been the best time to say something or do something like "blame" Luo for not caring or suspecting the worst of him or not trusting him or abandoning him and Genuinely possibly get the chance to totally burn the bridge of their relationship. But Fei Du doesn't. He doesn't lash out at the increased intimacy. He opens up and talks about himself, civilly, vulnerable and letting that vulnerability increase of his own choice (rather then Luos presence sort of pushing for it and his usual response to shut it down by saying cruel things). It's a lovely step forward for both of them in both trying to take their relationship a step closer. Slightly more trust in each other, more openness to share without Luo using the caretaking ordering to push fei du into staying in the convo or fei du lashing out and saying cruel things to Try and push to get out of a condo.

You can see it after. Luo accepting Fei Du offering help. Luo bringing him along (fei du trusts Luo more without lashing out and gets treated more like an equal instead of a child, being treated more like Tao Ran - like a partner who CAN be brought to a crime scene, can help, can offer unique talents to help, is worth listening to, and can take care of himself getting home later without being scolded). It's interesting just a bit that he is getting shifted toward being treated more how Luo treats Tao Ran. Fei also actually smiles back and says his own version of goodbye when he's dropped off, another good sign they've crossed into closer relationship territory then their prior holding pattern. Fei Du now trusts Luo enough to potentially Share his thoughts without being pried and without trying to run from it or fear Luo will abandon him about what he might share. Luo is trying to treat Fei Du like an equal, not like someone he's responsible for as a caretaker but someone he just genuinely cares About like a partner, and so he's not throwing his age around as a threat of authority so much as a joke to make Fei feel familiar and comfortable.

Genuinely so curious how this show will handle them as they start flirting. I keep expecting a scene where Fei Du brings the police team delivery food.

I love that Fei Du has his private investigation going on. It makes him feel shady a la a Beyond Evil character lol. I know he's not up to pure evil or anything but it's fun to me that Luo Wenzhou is aware Fei Du has a tendency toward doing this kind of shit but is not personally involved and clearly there is someone out to kill Fei but that's not on the whole groups radar necessarily.

I've mentioned it before but I love this particular case from the book and loved how terrifying it was in live action and it looked how I pictured and memories flooded. I remember it was the first time I felt priests writing scared me like horror like some Stephen King novel. The live action scene, where fei du comes in and says "where's the bad guy" and he uses his words and looks at Luo to come up with a plan to deescalate was just phenomenal to watch. Again it felt Iike a piece, a moment of seeing into their dynamic and the depth of their knowing each other and WHY they make such an excellent team. Why it's them that has to be partners. Why (as much as I love him) Tao Ran can't be endgame for one of them. Fei Du is a little off center and varies how unhinged he is by the situation, and he Gets kids like these. The girl who's a hostage and needs anything no matter how absurd, to be saved. The girl who may well have killed other little girls, and he has let his mind wander where hers has or has Feared it turning into something like it, and knows what he'd want to hear. Knows what he'd do if he were her in that moment and can't let her. Knows in a way Luo Wenzhou and Tao Ran just aren't going to. And Luo Wenzhou bends his own rules so much FOR Fei Du, will bend his view of the world itself to accommodate that he loves and cherishes Fei Du and NEEDS fei du safe and happy in his world. Luo Wenzhou (in the show) is being fed this show premise that people with zero empathy tend towards harming others (which when the show later says they kill animals etc sounds like it's just a stand in word for psychopath maybe? It seems to be a stand in for either handwaving real people with low empathy or feelings without actually using real world terms Or a standin for just "people who harm" with some fictional excuse). It's clear the narrative is framing anyone as capable of crime since some people they catch do not have the "no empathy gene" but still did cruel things.

But anyway, framework of the show is Fei Du is like the lead guy in Flower of Evil or Shaw from Person of Interest. And Luos being fed that those people inherently do monstrous things. And he is told that, fei says his dad is one and so is he. Feis held a dead bird when Luo found him. Feis lashed out about that fear by claiming he'd kill or hurt people presumably like fucking weekly when he talked to Luo and got too emptionally vulnerable. But Luo Wenzhou let's it go one ear and out the other. Even if Fei Du killed an animal, even if he does want to kill someone in revenge Genuinely like the dad who killed the person he thought kidnapped his daughter? To Luo Wenzhou his Fei Du is an innocent boy who grew up in immense pain and he just wants him to be safe and live a good life he likes and lives a long time in. To Luo Wenzhou, Fei Du is ALWAYS worth engaging with, hearing out, giving the benefit of the doubt. Because when he was a child, when it mattered, Luo wenzhou disappointed him by failing after hearing fei du out and trying to investigate for him. Scolded fei du for trying to do something himself, because he didn't want fei du to BEAR that and didn't want him to be stuck in the past unable to heal (but lmao fei du was going to stubbornly hold on until he can fix it anyway). For Luo Wenzhou if Fei Du acts unhinged and is about to run over 5 men? He'll think the guy has his reasons, remind Fei Du his life is worth so much he is a treasure if he ends his life by throwing away his opportunities it's not worth it. For Luo Wenzhou if Fei Du says act like this kidnapper Su is the victim? Luo wenzhou will snap quickly into playing along. He'll trust Fei Dus lead. They're both a bit off the deep end in some regards and because of that it suits them to be together. To work together they just click better for each other than any other partner would.

Just that scene really was the first taste of Fei Du's social skills and manipulation he can bring to the table in cases and really excel at. The car chase showed hes competent in an action disaster. And in isolation we know he's smart and investigating privately. But with Luo Wenzhou it's his first real show he can Handle something THIS immense with a life on the line. And it's also so much for Their Relationship and trust increasing further, that Luo Wenzhou trusts Fei Du to be in it. To rely on him during it. It's that transition into equals.

And then the cute bits. Transition to equals includes! Fei Du showing off his manly Superiority with a sports car, with how rich beyond reason the bitch is (Luo you want a sugar daddy who's younger? Fei du is right here for you baby), with his beauty (of course someone would sell me off alas I AM the catch for everyone in this city I AM the hottest u-u you don't even appreciate it), his competence in the actual case which was HUGE (and his little offer when they arrived to help - acts of service and gifts are both his and Luos main love language to flirt). Basically Fei switched from mainly hostility to a sort of middle ground I'm your contrarian but I'm Also such an appealing dating prospect don't you think? Sort of reminds me of Zhao Yunlans early stage flirting and I'm curious again how show will handle this behavior of Fei Dus intensifying. Meanwhile Luo Wenzhou turned his old "listen to me cause I'm your superior" into trying to spin it more positively, also a sort of "look how beneficial I am in your life don't you Want to stay this close and possibly move closer? Don't you -3-" by offering advice (actually the job thing hints nicely toward fei du deciding to study psychology and work for SID soon), driving Fei Du (an old thing he does but now he lets Fei get dropped off and treated like an equal adult), showing the very warm home he's happy and hopes fei du wants to share (look I can cook! My house is cozy and nice! I have your old cat and he's so happy so will you be, look at this yummy food I make, I can even sing happy birthday and spoil you like Tao Ran if that's what you want), generally emulating the somewhat warmer way Tao Ran talks to fei du like he did in the ep 1 car ride. Generally smiling more openly. Luo was already being flirty in some ways since his caretaking style and flirt style both involve acts of service and doting. But he's trying now to seem like a cool, talented, secure guy who appears as a good Prospect.

I'm not sure How aware Luo is he's doing it, as from his pov he could just think he's transitioning from caretaker to "friend" (but friend sure looks like how he treated crush Tao Ran so). But I think on a Level Luo Wenzhou is somewhat aware of how it Could be construed. Because when Fei Du peacocks his own desireable-sexy-guy traits Luo is aware on one level he's being slightly dissed (as usual) but on another fei du isn't overtly shutting Luos attempts down, just offering his own More Lavish attempts. Which again... Luo at this point could see it as Fei Du also just trying to transition from rival/at odds to friends. But it's a Tao Ran more kinda friend than Zhang Donglan kind of friend, and fei dus a flirt anyway toward everyone. And Luo probably on a level knows he better tread Careful cause a brag from Fei one day may become a "come hither" the next and then they're in bed and it's a mess dkdkmd.

Like... for the live actions sake. I'm going to assume both of them think they're just transitioning closer to "friends who tease" instead of this almost parent/child at odds relationship that was buried underneath the love rivals excuse they used to overly care about each other and be Frustrated that they did. But for both of them friends (they both clearly have only 1 other close friend and its crush Tao Ran) of this level of closeness is not something either of them really have outside of each other so it's vulnerable and awkward and very grey area and uncomfortably undefined the longer it goes on. So like... at some point, one would presume the next few episodes (?) One or both of them is going to realize they desire a romantic relationship with the other. Amd at that point at least one of their flirt behaviors is going to crank UP and then the other person will also be aware the grey area has been defined. Defined into the "find a friend hot and would like more". (Which lmao because of Tao Rans bizarre situation romantically wirh both means those fuckers are now doing to each other a much more Competitive Terrifyingly Intimate High Risk version of what they did to him as a proxy).

Again. Love this case.

I will probs liveblog reading of Silent Reading again at this rate...

[katatonicimpression]

1, 4, 6, 10, 30, 40, 45 for Monet, 47. also if this is too much feel free to just do whatever ya feel like

Putting this under a cut because it got long.

How has DC/Marvel/publishing company wronged you, specifically?

They keep hiring Gerry.

I'm sure there are better answers, but tbh drawing me back into comics so thoroughly with the promise of some allerdrake and the set up of Marauders in general and then failing so hard to deliver is up there.

4. Worst decision for [x]’s “new direction”?

Nature Girl. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Oh, and I guess Beast just basically being Dark Beast now can be an honourable mention.

6. Worst coloring error you’ve seen.

Off the top of my head, this notorious panel from Marauders (2019):

10. What’s the most cursed panel you’ve seen?

Consider yourself warned.

This is from Generation X #72. There's a reason I cut the panels down a lot when I talked about this issue.

What you are looking at is a drawing of a 17 year old girl, training with her adult teacher. Her labia majora are drawn in an exagerated way, prominent and .... er.... "bulging."

Now you've seen it too.

30. What side character do you hate?

Howard the Duck.

Hmm.. actually I don't know if they really count as side characters when they're acting as individuals, but as a group I don't really get the Cuckoos. It's not hate, but I just don't really understand the appeal.

40. What’s your most detested plot point?

"Snap" Wilson (thankfully it's been re-retconned now)

Monet/Sabretooth

Jet Zola - specifically the thing with her and Sam but also the character in general... also throw in Sin. No one needed "sexy Nazi teenager" and we certainly didn't need it twice.

Bonus: it's such a minor point but I would like to erase most of that x-force issue with Shinobi and Mindmeld. Keep Mindmeld, I like her. But everything with Shin should go. He's way too evil and way too competent. And he actually kills someone with his powers which is something that he's generally portrayed as being all talk with. That's something that should've been built towards and treated as big change, but it isn't and I dislike it.

I'm sure there's more. I am a fountain of bitterness.

45. What’s the worst take you’ve seen about [x] (popular or not)?

You said for Monet. This is kind of fudging the question because it's not a specific take.

There's a thing that happens with Monet where she is mostly remembered and mentioned as "the other Black woman in x-men who isn't Storm or Reyes." And the way she gets utilised in fandom is frequently very much like:

"Here's my fantasy x-team line up. I needed someone who wasn't white so here's some lady. I skimmed the intro to her wiki, maybe, but tbh I'm just making this up."

And I don't want to be mean about this, because it is good that people are thinking about her even if they don't currently know much about her. I don't want to gatekeep. And also, far be it for me to tell people how to approach racial diversity in this kind of thing, I am far from an expert.

But it bothers me that so many of the times that she's remembered, it's just to meet some imaginary quota.

Hell, if we're talking about representation, there are so many boxes that girl ticks with her background and character history. But so often they don't bother with any of that. Some random white dude is the neurodivergent one, the one with the trauma. Or whatever.

And this is bigger than fandom, obviously. It's a big thing with a lot of POC characters, especially Black characters, in comics. They get included with little thought to their actual background or characterisation, and just get slapped with a random personality the author feels is appropriate.

Urgh, this is unfocused. But I guess what I'm saying is I wish people would bring her up as herself, with more actual personal detail and attention to her background. And not just mention her to round up a line up, or drag her into some nebulous attempt to cancel an author after the fact (lol that is a specific subtweet but I'm not going to elaborate). Maybe at the very least don't assume she's American. That would be nice.

47. What’s the worst blatantly untrue fanon take you thought was canon?

I don't really have one for this. Not that I haven't seen a bunch of blatanlty untrue fanon takes - dear lord it's like 90% of them - but I'm usually pretty skeptical... I think...?

Lol it's going to turn out I am 100% wrong about something and I discover it, like, tomorrow.

[acciotherapists]

Far From Home (Chapter 42: Hydra)

Loki x Reader

Y/n Y/l/n never thought her past would come back to find her. After all who would look for her on Midgard? But one day in the small town of Puento Antiguo her world is turned upside down when an old friend turns up, threatening everything she has built and the people she’d fought so hard to protect. What happens when the life she left behind finally catches up with her? What happens when the old flame she thought had burned out reignites within her?

Warnings: language (sorry, Steve), eventual smut (slow burn), angst, some mentions of torture (most things won’t be detailed but anything that gets a bit more specific will be warned at the beginning of the chapter)

As we reached the tower Loki was waiting for us on the roof and I ran to him the moment my feet touched the roof. I threw my arms around him and basked in the warmth his body provided as he shielded me from the concerned stares of the team. No one knew what to think and I couldn’t blame them for neither did I.

“I missed you, darling,” Loki murmured into my hair as the rest of the team stepped off the quinjet.

“I missed you too, Loki.”

“Debriefing in ten minutes, Agent Y/l/n,” Tony hissed and I felt my heart starting to race again. “Alone,” he added, glaring at Loki.

“What was that about?” Loki asked.

“Nothing… I- I made a mistake on the mission and I think he’s pretty pissed about it.”

He kissed my forehead before leading us to the elevator, promising everything would be fine. If only I could believe him.

****

You could practically cut the tension in the room with a knife as the team sat down and waited for Tony to speak.

“You want to tell me what the hell happened out there?”

“We were drawing too much civilian attention so we left the coffee shop.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” Tony snapped. “You choked out there! You were supposed to deny that you remembered anything and lead him back to a secluded area, use the tranquilizer and be done with it. You failed us out there!”

“I’m sorry,” I answered, looking away from him. Tony sighed, dragging a hand over his face. 

“What were you thinking?” he asked, his voice much softer now. “You could’ve been killed… or captured again, Y/n.”

“I just needed to talk to him.”

“You have to understand how dangerous that was, kid.”

“You do realize I’m over a thousand years older than you right?”

He chuckled. “Doesn’t matter. You’re family now.”

I could feel tears forming behind my eyes and I fought to keep them down as Tony continued. 

“We have another opening; however everyone on the team needs to be on board with this. It must be unanimous given the danger it may possess for… select individuals,” he says, looking at me carefully before handing us each a file.

“Barnes is being held at this training facility and is set to be moved in two days.”

I looked down at the file in front of me, finding the schematics of a familiar looking base as Tony continued.

“I have reason to believe they are holding other powered individuals there.”

“Most likely,” I answered, remembering the days Bucky and I had spent recovering there.

“You recognize this place?” Tony asked and I nodded.

“Bucky and I spent a lot of time here… it was sort of like our home.”

“Your home?” Steve asked.

“The only one we had… apart from each other.”

“Careful, Y/n,” Nat warned. “Don’t let your feelings cloud your judgment. This isn’t some reunion with an old friend. This is a Hydra soldier who has a serious rap sheet.”

“So am I, Nat!” I exclaimed. “Yet, you seem to trust me just fine. Bucky protected us when Hydra showed up today! He told us to run while he stayed and dealt with Hydra! He could’ve let them take us and call it a completed mission.”

“She has a point, Nat,” Steve said as she glared at him.

“What’s the mission, Tony?”

The team turned to me, each one of them deciding what to say and I knew it wouldn’t be good.

“Hydra is looking for you, kid… That much is clear. This place is a fortress and there’s no way in or out without a massacre. The only way in would be…” Tony trailed off, looking around the room but no one met his eyes. “Y/n, I need to make this absolutely clear… no one on the team agrees with this idea and we would all understand if you said no.”

“Tony, just tell me.”

“We would need you to hand yourself over to Hydra.”

****

Taglist:

@purplekitten30 @lokisprettygirl22 @midnights-ramblings @huntress-artemiss @lokis-little-love @lokis-tigress @the-archangel-in-asgard @crimson25 @thedistractedagglomeration

[autumngracy]

The writing in Avengers Infinity War and especially Avengers Endgame (not to mention the abuse of the employees, and the nonsensical overreliance on CGI specifically so that they could abuse the employees) is what really killed the whole franchise for me, but my dad didn't care about workers rights or good writing or good filmmaking practices in the same way, so he kept dragging me to MCU premieres for several more years because they (classic superhero movies) were just about the only things he was ever interested in paying to see in theater.

And there were a few things I watched afterwards (on tv, fpr free) that were okay, I guess, but there's just a particular flavor to pretty much everything about Marvel Movies that I can't stomach anymore, whether it's the shitty dialogue that's mostly quips and lacks any sense of individuality, or the fact that nothing is allowed to be taken seriously, or knowng that no plot, character, or relationship development really matters because they'll spend entire movies setting the possibility of something up only to tear it down offscreen before the next movie even starts, and laugh in your face for even being annoyed by that.

I mean, they don't treat their own characters, stories, or fans, with any any respect whatsoever. All of the things people really want to see, and that would make sense for the characters to focus on, are sidelined and postponed until they mean essentially nothing anymore, if they even get to happen at all—which most of them don't.

And don't even get me started on Marvel's treatment of actors and their "filmmaking process" where they've decided that no one, not even the actors, is allowed to know what happens in the movie until it premieres, because one teeny spoiler could somehow destroy their whole project. That they won't even let the actors look at their own character's script unsupervised or for more than a few hours (if that?) And then have pinkerton type goons follow them around threatening hell and damnation if they "leak" anything, even accidentally. How the fuck are they supposed to act with genuine emotion if they have no idea what they're even reacting to at any given time? Jesus christ.

i think we as a society went through a period where people watched every marvel movie because they’re marvel movies. So, which of these movies was the last one you watched before only watching Marvel movies you’re genuinely interested in seeing?

(some titles are shortened/condensed to fit into the character limit)

[an-adorable-stray-cat]

Maturity

In my hiatus, I've grown as a person and learned a lot more about life, with help from a better group of individuals online that have shaped me into a much more compassionate person.

And not some screechy, keymashing, all-caps typer.

I've grown more into a proper jack of all trades, dabbling in multiple different skills and finding none of them are impossible if I put my mind to them. Sure they take time and I get self conscious, but I'm telling myself "it'll get better".

Sadly with how I am, it certainly takes a while to actually make the effort not go to waste. That goes for drawing specifically.

WITH WRITING, that's a completely different story.

I have been using discord for 9 years now, and it's been great. I've grown from it, and a few years ago have permanently opted to have nitro just to write. I use discord to write potential book ideas, and have gotten quite far in many of them, but they're just works in progress.

My first book was terrible and disgusting looking back, but thankfully, recently I've come up with a way to salvage it and the characters, while changing it completely to have it be a different message, and to not go the Gojo route (writer hates protagonist, my brother in christ you made the character).

I even managed to breeze through three total books in a whole 3 month span, and I only feel the first book is really ready - minus the name change I'm opting to go for.

Writing is an adventure. Books are fun. And the real nerds are the ones saying books are not cool.

Those jerks clearly haven't experienced JoJo or Sand Land or, hell, Lupin III.

Regardless, I've become a much smarter individual, and I'm only getting better from here. They say your brain stops developing at a certain age in your 20s, but that's only half true. It stops GROWING, but it can still continue to develop and learn, grow more creases with memories and knowledge.

Life is an adventure. Do what you want (within moral limits). Don't let others drag you down like a crab in a bucket.

[doseofponderings]

All Together, The Psychology of Money

I recently finished Morgan Housel's The Psychology of Money, which is one of the must-read finance books of all time. I spent months reading the entire book as it was tough to comprehend and there's a plethora of information and takeaways I could get from each reading ((no, this book is too heavy for me actually, so I pause for awhile lol)).

I highlighted certain noteworthy words that resonated within me from the first time I read, so I decided to write them down. BUT, thankfully, Housel had a chapter that concluded some universal yet practical financial truths, here are some:

Go out of your way to find humility when things are going right and forgiveness or compassion when they go wrong. Because it's never as good or as bad as it looks. The world is big and complex. Luck and risk are both real and hard to identify. Do so when judging both yourself and others. Respect the power of luck and risk and you'll have a better chance of focusing on things you can actuallly control. You'll also have a better chance of finding the right role models.

Less ego, more wealth. Saving money is the gap between your ego and your income, and wealth is what you don't see. So wealth is created by suppressing what you could buy today in order to have more stuff or more options in the future. No matter how much you earn, you will never build wealth unless you can put a lid on how much fun you can have with your money right now, today.

Manage your money in a way that helps you sleep at night. That's different from saying you should aim to earn the highest returns or save a specific percentage of your income. Some people won't sleep well unless they're earning the higest returns, others will only get a good rest if they're conservatively invested. To each their own. But the foundation of, "does this help me sleep at night?" is the best universal guidepost for all financial decisions.

If you want to do better as investor, the single most powerful thing you can do is increase your time horizon. Time is the most powerful force in investing. It makes little things grow big and big mistake fade away. It can't neutralize luck and risk, but it pushes result closer towards what people deserve.

Become ok with a lot of things going wrong. You can be wrong half the time and still make a fortune, because a small minority of things account for the majority of outcomes. No matter what you're doing with your money, you should be comfortable with a lot of stuff not working. That's just how the world is. So you should always measure how you've done by looking at your full portfolio, rather than individual investment. Judging how you've done by focusing on individual investments makes winners look more brilliant than they were, and loosers appear more regrettable than they should.

Use money to gain control over your time, because not having control of your time is such a powerful and universal drag on happiness. The ability to do what you want, when you want, with who you want, for as long as you want to, pays the highest devidend that exist in finance.

Be nicer and less flashy. No one impressed with your possessions as much as you are. You might think you want a fancy car or a nice watch, but what you probably want is respect and admiration. And you're more likely to gain those things through kindness and humility than horsepower and chrome.

Save. Just save. You don't need a specific reason to save. It's great to save for a car, or a downpayment, or a medical emergency. But saving for things that are impossible to predict or define is one of the best reasons to save. Everyone's life is a continuous chain of surprises. Savings that aren't earmarked for anything in particular is a hedge against life's inevitable ability to surprise the hell out of you at the worst possible moment.

Define the cost of success and be ready to pay it. Because nothing worthwhile is free. And remember that most financial costs don't have visible price tags. Uncertainty, doubt, and regret are common costs in the finance world. They're often worth paying. But you have to view them as fees (a price worth paying to get something nice in exchange) rather than fines (a penalty you should avoid).

Worship room for error. A gap between what could happen in the future and what you need to happen in the future in order to do well is what gives you endurance, and endurance is what makes compounding magic over time. Room for error often looks like a conservative hedge, but if it keeps you in the game, it can pay for yourself many times over.

Avoid the extreme ends of financial decisions. Everyone's goals and desires will change over time, and the more extreme your past decisions were the more you may regret them as you evolve.

You should like risk because it pays off over time. But you should be paranoid of ruinous risk because it prevents you from taking future risks that will pay off over time.

Define the game you're playing, and make sure your actions are not being influenced by people playing a different game.

Respect the mess. Smart, informed, and reasonable people can disagree in finance, because people have vastly different goals and desires. There is no single right answer; just the answer that works for you.

And Housel also shared what works for him, which rang true with me in terms of financial goals: independence. I didn't want to get rich, I just wanted to get independent. Chasing the highest returns or leveraging my assets to live the most luxurious life has little interest to me. Both look like games people do to impress their friends and society, and both have hidden risks. I mostly just want to wake up every day knowing my family and I can do whatever we want to do on our terms. Independence, to me, doesn't mean stop working. It means I only do the work I like with people I like at the times I want for as long as I want.

This book has radically altered my mind and perspective on making decision in finance, especially amid the current economic situation and tech winter. I highly urge you to read this at least once in your life.

[atlas-plugged]

When I was applying to colleges and scholarships, one of the most well-publicized scholarship competitions was the Ayn Rand Foundation's essay competitions. "Write a short essay about a 100-page book?" I thought. "What an easy scholarship application!" And that's how I read Anthem for the first and only time and let me tell you when you weren't raised by libertarians that stuff makes SIGNIFICANTLY less sense. Looking forward to learning about it from someone who understands the philosophy.

Anthem was the first Rand I ever read and honestly I loved it. It was assigned as a reading for my freshman lit class when I was 14 and it slotted in neatly beside a lot of the other dystopic fiction that gets handed to young teens. It was more mature than The Giver, longer than "Harrison Burgeron," and invited the reader into the characters' headspaces in a way that I didn't really get from Fahrenheit 451.

Anthem and "Harrison Burgeron" were part of a unit for that class and looking back, I can't help but wonder if that unit was specifically constructed to get freshman honors English students to start thinking about intellectual elitism.

Again, look, I was kind of a little asshole. I was a kid without a hell of a lot of social skills who was both learning disabled and advanced; I had tested out of several grades (which, thankfully, the district would not advance me through) and was extremely violently bullied for years by the students who had been told "Why can't you be like Alli?" by our teachers (and, not that there's an excuse for bullying, I was a shit about the fact that I was a better student than my classmates)* so "Harrison Burgeron" *resonated.* The idea of an unshackled human as a threat to the society that wanted to drag everyone down to the lowest common denominator was like *catnip* to me. I transcribed that story in a journal by hand.

Then Anthem followed, and Anthem builds on those same themes. It is about a person whose strengths are suppressed by his society, who is punished for his individuality, who has had his choices taken away from him, and who breaks away from all of that to try to build a better world.

I think that Anthem actually makes a lot of sense to a lot of teenagers, and that's part of why the Ayn Rand Institute has a free books for teachers program and has run that scholarship contest for decades. They very much want as many edgy teens to get into Rand as early as possible. I know that if I hadn't read (and loved) Anthem so long that I probably wouldn't have been as interested in Atlas Shrugged as I was when I finally got around to it.

They do scholarships about The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged too. I've helped marxist friends write their papers for the ARI, which I think resulted in at least one scholarship.

(If you have the opportunity to take these people for their money, do it. Fuck them. I give 5:1 odds that you're a better writer and thinker than the majority of people submitting essays, so do it, go for it, take their money and use it to pay for a degree that is absolutely flooded with the kinds of critical theory that they would loathe.)

In another post I discussed the woundedness of Rand's ideology. You see this a lot with a lot of the right, actually - it manifests in the idea that you want a better world for everyone except for the people who hurt you.

This is very visible in Atlas Shrugged, which is half power fantasy, half revenge story. It is not enough that the heroes must win, but that their enemies must suffer.

The idea that those who have done you harm are beyond redemption, beyond saving, and could never have a place in your perfect world is a very adolescent idea and part of why I think Rand's work does resonate so much with edgy teens. Edgy teens often think of themselves as apart from and othered by society, and they don't want to meaningfully contribute to a society that injured them.

But you've got to grow up sometime. "I struggled and suffered, so the next person should struggle and suffer" or "you made me struggle and suffer, so I won't improve things for anyone if improving things might help you" is spiteful and petty, and something that makes sense for cynical teenagers but that is ridiculous and immature when you see adults pulling that shit.

So I understand the kids who went "cool dystopia!" and maybe internalized a story about chosen ones. I understand adults who found that appealing and read further and sat in that space for a while. What I don't understand is adults who make denying assistance to others a part of their worldview under the assumption that providing assistance to anyone is hampering individuals from reaching their full potential.

-

-

*In some ways I feel like I got set up for failure by a lot of adults. I switched districts in the 3rd grade, when I was already nearly a year younger than almost everyone in my class (I turned 8 two days before school started) and the district wouldn't allow me to advance to the 6th grade based on my testing (thank fuck) or put me in GATE classes (whatever) but whatever chance I had of being a "normal" kid got shattered when my 3rd grade teacher had me teach the rest of the class our multiplication tables and assigned me the job of doing half an hour of reading aloud to the class for a couple days each week while she caught up on grading. I was not the teacher's pet so much as I was the weird 8-year-old reading Moby Dick at recess and having trouble maintaining friendships because of emotional dysregulation. Being a smart kid with essentially no friends who was *horribly, violently bullied in ways that led to lasting injuries* probably wasn't the only reason that I liked Anthem but it was very much why I was drawn to chosen-one-under-attack-by-society-must-save-the-day narratives.

Anyway in case it wasn't clear I'm obviously still wrestling with a lot of this stuff and this blog is likely to be just as much trauma dumping as it is talking about Ayn Rand's Bad Book.

[cinnamonest]

Lupophobia

Yandere "Escape Attempt" prompt - Razor

-------------------- Words: 8,944 Warnings:-fem reader, attempted noncon beastiality (none actually happens), yandere/captivity, noncon, biting, breeding, brief gendered themes/tones involving animal mating. Heavily inspired by my degrees of lewdity "deviant"/beastiality playthrough. I applied things I learned in college linguistics for this. Truly putting my education to a good purpose. --------------------- The fortunate thing about animals, and their adjacents, was that they were very easy to deceive, and no matter what, they would fall for the same trick, time and time again. "You see it girl? You want it?" You grimaced at the slimy texture on your fingers, wiggling the fatty slab in your grip and swallowing the sickness that came from looking at it. Out of, you supposed, ingrained social habits, you gave an awkward smile as you wiggled the meat. In contrast, the wolf had the opposite reaction, her ears immediately perked up, and she leaped into a playful position, front half low to the ground as her tail stuck up, and a low whine escaped her throat, eyes fixated on the meat. Yes, unlike with people, who had a greater capacity for pattern recognition and learning, who followed the fool me once, fool me twice mantra, you could count on animals to be easily deceived over and over without having to change the way you deceived them. This was far from the first time you had pulled this exact move, nor was it difficult to do -- you merely waited for a spare moment to rip out a chunk of the meat and hid it away for a little while while the rest of the pack was not looking, too absorbed in their own gorging to even cast a glance in your direction. "You want it...?" You repeated, wiggling the slab again in front of the wolf's eyes. Drool spilled out of the side of her mouth between her sharp, glistening teeth, and she let out another whine.

This was not the first time this trick had worked. This was not the first time you'd managed to steal and hide a hunk of meat away while the animals gorged themselves on the remains of whatever poor creature fell victim to them. Hell, this wasn't even the first time that this specific trick had worked on this specific individual wolf. You'd come to recognize each of them with time, even assigned them little names in your head by identifiers. She was a mother, one of the wolves that remained behind at the little den while the others went out for hunting, leaving only the nursing females, the smallest pups, and, well, yourself. Albeit in a weakened state in nursing, they were still easily capable of overpowering you, and, through means you honestly did not understand, they somehow knew they were supposed to prevent you from leaving. Even when you stood up, one or more of them would immediately pick their heads up, ears falling flat and even letting out the softest of warning growls.

She whined in front of you, eyes fixated on the slab. You wiggled it again. It was an easy deceit to pull off. "You want it... then go... get it!"

You hurled the hunk of red flesh as far as your arms could manage, and, exactly per plan, the she-wolf immediately bolted in the direction of the throw. And likewise, you turned on your heel and began the now-routine dash in the opposite direction -- the direction of human civilization. That had been the easy part.

It was the rest of the way that would be difficult. This time of day was the only opportunity you had to pull this whole thing off, but the sun was quickly setting, and unlike the wolves, you were not exactly gifted with night vision. You likened the route to an obstacle course, a puzzle -- repeated actions that became muscle memory. The first few times, you'd merely stumbled around in the woods for a few minutes. With each successive attempt, you retained more knowledge of the path, could clear a longer distance in increasingly shorter times, memorized landmarks, remembered little helpful actions and hindrances, and with each successive attempt, you found yourself making it closer and closer to the end of the woods than the time before. There wasn't much else to go by, so you used trees that stood out to you. The huge tree with the hollowed out hole in the center was the first landmark -- go right. The tree that had an oddly-angled branch came next. So on and so on. You measured success by how many of said landmarks you could pass in time, striving to make each a longer and longer venture every time. Just when despair had been finally getting the better of you, the last attempt had had you finding a footpath used by the Springvale hunters, and that meant you were close. If you could just find that again -- there. To say flat ground was a welcome feeling to your bare feet was an understatement. The slimy dirt texture of the forest floor and prickly leaves and pine needles was not a pleasant sensation. Nonetheless, there was no time to savor it or anything, soon, soon, you'd walk on paved streets, and floors, and, and... You stopped for a mere moment, panting, desperately taking in deep breaths to soothe the exhaustion burning in your chest. You darted your head from side to side. There was no sign of anything coming your way. No footsteps or growls in the distance behind you. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, as much from physical exertion as it was from a blooming, disbelieving excitement. I might actually make it.  Your legs felt weak at the prospect, and you steadied your stumbling against a tree. You were certain you'd never made it this far before. It was difficult to process, almost surreal. After so, so, so many times, over the course of months and months, you were so used to being stopped by this point that your brain half-expected it at any moment. You'd really reached a point at which the escape attempts were almost done with a knowing futility, you no longer really had much hope when setting out, merely running on principle and the faint chance that was now so real. You could be stopped any moment. And yet, after a few more breaths, nothing happened. You shook your head to clear the dizziness, taking a deep breath and squinting forward in the twilight. You nearly felt your heart stop when you processed a shape in the distance -- a building. Springvale. It was distant and downhill, but visible. Right there within your reach, and all you had to do was go to it, so you steadied your breath and took off as fast as-- The world suddenly spun around you as something snatched at your ankle. Your shriek echoed off the trees, reverberating until it grew silent. A clanging of metallic sounds accompanied it, rattling hollowed objects triggered into motion. Everything began to settle, the sudden flooding of stimuli to your eyes and the feeling of sudden movement both slowing to a gentle sway. You were unbreathing, unblinking, heart pounding as your vision spun and, in a panicked haze, you desperately darted your eyes and head each way, struggling to process your senses. Your head felt suddenly tight and tense, your upper half heavy, and a burning pain wrapped around your ankle. Everything was... upside down. You looked down -- no, up -- at your feet. One was bent at the knee, falling in the direction of gravity towards your head, the other was extended perfectly straight, tense and unable to move. A cord was snagged around your ankle, a perfect tightened knot that wrapped around the flesh. You looked up -- no, again, down -- at the ground. Nausea lurched in your stomach as you did, seeing the forest floor a good drop below. You took a moment to process. You followed the trail of the rope from where it tugged painfully at your ankle, followed it to the branch it looped over, and down the trunk to the base of the tree, where it was securely tied around a knotted root. The metallic sound had come from what appeared to be collected garbage, metal scraps, a glass bottle or two, and some metal tools and cans all tied up in a net and secured to the spot where the rope met the branch, an alert that the trap had been set off. Your mouth hung open, you blinked over and over, before finally, bitter anger burst in your chest. "Ghhhhh!" You let out a frustrated, furious cry, thrashing wildly and pulling at your scalp. You kicked and struggled, but only succeeded in making yourself swing, making the nausea and dizziness worse. A trap. Of course. The furthest you've ever gotten, and you were stopped by a fucking hunting trap. Damn those Springvale hunters for coming this far out into the woods. It could be worse, you tried to console yourself. It could have been a bear trap, which would have more or less destroyed your leg, possibly taken it clean off. But nonetheless, misery and frustration bubbled up in your chest as you swung back and forth, slowing down to stillness. You'd never made it this close to town before. You could see the road as well, albeit just barely, a few hundred yards in the distance. You could make out where the dirt path became gravel in the distance, upside-down in the last light of the quickly-setting sun, and, as tears filled your eyes, you reached a hand out to it, miserably grasping your hand shut before letting your arm fall. It was so, so close! Now you were trapped, stuck here in this miserable, humiliating predicament, and you'd have to wait to be saved, and inevitably dragged back the way you'd come. You thrashed again, trying and failing to curl your body up and reach your foot. Your fingers just barely grazed the knot of the rope, but even if you could reach it, it was designed for your body weight to hold the knot in place to begin with. You let out a shaky sigh and a small sob, tears dripping directly out of your eyes and falling downward with gravity. You wiped your eyes, and a thought made a bit of nervous, daring hope light up in your chest. You were close to Springvale, right? Maybe you could be heard. This trap was set by the Springvale hunters themselves, right? You'd seen these types before, a snare that, when tripped, released on one side and whipped around the center of the force that tripped the rope, forming a perfect, tight knot around the ankle of the prey before hauling it upwards by use of weight. You took a deep breath and cupped your hands around your mouth. "Help!" You called out, straining out the vowel as long as you could, before inhaling a ragged breath and repeating the action. As the echoes quieted, you waited, but nothing happened. You wriggled and writhed, but only succeeded in making the net of metal rattle. You supposed it helped the hunters hear animals struggling, and led them to the source. But the hunters wouldn't be back out until tomorrow, you couldn't afford to wait for them to come rescue you on their own. You waited a moment, trying again and again to yell. The Springvale hunters, a traveler on the road, hell, you'd accept help from treasure hoarders if they hung out in this part of the wilderness. Anyone, anyone human. Well, except one, preferably, but still. Any other human being. You couldn't even remember the last human interaction you'd had. At least, a fully human interaction, without any licks or whines or growls or other canid behaviors you'd become far too accustomed to. But nobody came. You waited. Tried again. And again. And again. No response. Your head was beginning to pound and throb. You'd black out if you stayed like this much longer, and you were pretty certain it could even kill you. But nothing was responding to your cries for help. You wracked your brain in panic for a solution. An idea popped into your head. You'd seen Razor do it before, and the wolves responded to him even though he produced the sound with a human voice, so maybe you too could... It was embarrassing, but worth a try. You didn't exactly have many options. You jerked your bodyweight in the other direction, making yourself turn to face the woods in the direction you'd come from instead of Springvale. You reached your quickly-numbing arms up and cupped your hands around your mouth, forming your lips into an "o" shape, and, well, swallowed your pride. You didn't have any better ideas. "Awooooo--" You tried to mimic the howls you'd heard so many times as accurately as you could manage, but it came out a bit strained and comical. You waited a moment, and, receiving no response, whimpered in your desperation and tried a second time. Your voice echoed throughout the trees. You weren't certain exactly how it worked, you were pretty certain they had different tones they used, some for aggression, some as a cry of distress, but you weren't capable of telling them apart. You could only hope for the best. It wasn't really as if they could help you, but at the very least, they would probably go find Razor for you. They'd done so before, after another humiliating failure when you'd fallen into a hole in the earth during a past attempt. You'd learned they were far more intelligent than you once thought, and they understood things like that, at least. But gods, did this make you feel dumb. Your face heated with embarrassment with each attempt. You inhaled to try a third time, but as you did, a shrill howl pierced the air from a distance. A response. Your heartrate picked up as a little spark of relief and hope -- albeit dread that lurked in the back of your head -- made you shudder. You howled again, and received a second response. It carried on for a few minutes that way, sounding back and forth, and it sounded like the other was getting closer. Finally, you heard steps, and anticipation swelled in your chest. You were pretty sure that the response howls had been that of an actual wolf -- even you, in your time in these woods, had learned to tell the difference between Razor's vocalizations and that of the wolves. There were simply some aspects of the canid sounds that human vocal chords could only mimic, but not recreate to a perfect likeness, and thus his vocalizations were a bit distinct. Still, you could be wrong, or, even better, perhaps the footsteps coming close to you weren't an animal at all, but perhaps a different figure, maybe a hunter...? No, that was definitely a four-legged gait. That, too, was something you had learned to tell apart, a two-legged gait versus a four-legged one. It kind of came in handy when you were trying to to hide or run and needed to gauge exactly what was hunting you down. You craned your neck to the best of your ability in the direction of the sound. A creature emerged from the trees. You took a sharp breath. ...It was merely a very large, brownish-greyish wolf. It gazed up at you with big black eyes and ears perked up in alertness. You squinted. You'd never seen this wolf before. You were fairly certain of this much; during your time in the woods, you'd learned to distinguish between them pretty well. You learned the little differences -- this one was bigger, this one had a scratch on its ear, this one had a scar on its hip, this one was more brown and this one was more grey, and so on it went. This one was different from all the wolves you'd become familiar with. The wolf sat down, tilting its head at you, tongue lolling out as it panted. It was huge, muscular looking. "Help," you whimpered. As aware as you were that it obviously did not understand, you couldn't think of anything else to do. You flailed a bit in your desperation, and pointed towards the spot where the rope was tied to the tree. "Help me... Come on, please..." The wolf actually followed the line of your pointing, eyes settling on the base of the trap. And, miraculously, moved towards it. Your heart pounded. Did it actually understand? Would it help? It walked over and bit at the rope, shaking its head rapidly in the same way you'd witnessed the wolves kill small prey, or how dogs played with toys. It was helping! You shuddered again, hope burning in your chest, and a tear of relief dripping from your eyes upside-down to the ground below. And if this wolf wasn't from the pack, it wouldn't take you back, right? How, you weren't certain, but the other wolves seemed to understand the... arrangement going on. Many of your escape attempts had been thwarted not by your captor himself, but by the pack -- surrounding you in a circle, barking and growling and snapping at you until you were forced to turn back, even tackling you as you ran, biting your clothes and arms to drag you back. But this wolf would let you go, right? .... Wait a second. Cold dread suddenly made your stomach lurch. This wolf had no reason to help you, and no reason to drag you back. It had every reason to see you as easy prey. Any relief or hope you'd felt was immediately replaced with a chilling rush of panic. Yes, you would be easy prey, right there for the taking. You thrashed about, trying again to reach up and loosen the knot on your foot, but failing. Fuck. You were trapped between two unpleasant options. There was a chance the wolf was just helping, but in the end, it was an animal, not a person, with instincts of goodwill or benevolence. It would follow its instincts. Once you hit the ground, you'd have to run. That was the only solution. But... it also occurred to you only then that you were hanging a good fifteen feet or so in the air. Upside down. What if the fall knocked you out? Hell, what if it broke your legs? What if it broke your spine? If it were Razor himself, he'd lower you down slowly, but the wolf lacked the sense  or ability to do so. You'd just drop. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There was a thick coating of leaves on the ground, which would hopefully help, and this part of the forest had soft, clay-like ground rather than hard rock, but nonetheless, it was a long drop. Dammit! Your body wracked with a sob of frustration, anger, and panic. Why did all of this have to happen to you? You'd asked yourself that that plenty of times. You didn't do anything to deserve-- There was a snapping sound. You shrieked as gravity immediately sent you crashing down, world spinning around you, and you collided with the earth with crash that took the breath from your lungs; the sound flooded your ears, echoed as your head went numb. You landed directly on your back, eyes looking up at the trees and the sky beyond then as the world spun around you and your vision darkened. Pain ran through your body on impact, a rough, blunt sort of pain that ached through your flesh and meat and bones. You groaned in pain, teeth clenched as it flooded your senses, trembling as it slowly began to ebb away after the initial blow. The wolf's face popping into your vision sent you jolting back to awareness. It was startling, it's cold wet nose pressing against your own, and after a moment, it lapped its tongue against your face. Panic seized your entire body, and you were frozen, unable to move, not even breathing, eyes wide in terror. And then it licked you again, letting out a soft, tender whine. It was being friendly. You let out a shuddering sigh as relief washed over you again, and you thanked whatever god was looking out for you for granting you your life. "Th-thank you," you murmured, reaching a trembling hand up to pat the wolf's head, wincing at the soreness in your arm. It whined again, bumping its head against yours. Wolves were far, far larger than you were certain most people realized. Back home, you'd always thought that the howls you heard at night from within the safety of Mondstadt's walls were from creatures no bigger than the large hunting dogs you'd seen in Springvale. In reality, that was not the case. Even the smallest of the wolves were massive in comparison to those dogs, their heads easily twice the size of your own. You'd been utterly terrified of them in the beginning, bursting into frightened tears whenever one made its way over to sniff you in their curiosity, or dump an offering of a small creature's carcass at your feet in a show of friendliness (an unsettling experience, no matter how many time you were told it's good, 'cause they like (y/n)), or lick your face in an attempt to show affection. You'd grown used to it with time. But this wolf was even larger than the majority you'd seen, easily thrice your size in every capacity. Likely a loner separated from its pack. You were aware there were sometimes conflicts between the larger, stronger pack males that ultimately ended in the loser leaving the pack and heading off on its own, although it seemed nearly incomprehensible that a wolf of this size would lose to anything. Had it chosen the route of violence, you wouldn't have stood a chance. You laid there for a moment, head spinning as you took deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself down and regain your sense of control over your body. You curled your fingers and toes, flexed the muscles in your arms and legs. You were a bit scraped up and your entire body still ached from the impact, but miraculously, nothing seemed broken. You closed your eyes, feeling the cool evening breeze and the wet tongue that was repeatedly lapping at your face. Finally, after a moment, with a groan at the ache in your body, you pushed yourself upward with your elbows, flipping over to your hands and knees, pulling your leg forward to stand-- The breath was knocked out of you yet again as a massive weight crashed down onto your body. You clawed at the ground, gasping to regain oxygen, body going tense. "Wh-what-" The creature let his bodyweight fall down on your frame, and you grunted as your upper half slammed into the ground. It rendered you entirely immobile, this wolf was both massive and heavy, you could barely breathe under the sheer mass of its body. You struggled to push yourself back up onto your elbows. "H-hey, what are you--" With a whine, it rutted its hips forward. Oh, fuck. "N-no!" You tried to rear up, pushing your upper half upward on your elbows as hard as you could, to no avail. Its weight was crushing. "B-bad! Bad dog! Stop!" You clawed at the dirt, gasping as it thrust again. "Get off!" It only let out the same high, throaty whine, thrusting its hips several times in quick succession, humping your ass with desperation. You could feel its blunt-ended cock digging into the flesh, making your blood run cold. When it rutted forward, the motion hiked your ragged little dress up, bunching up the fabric and exposing your cunt. You whimpered with fear, desperately trying to drag yourself forward. "Stop, stop, get off!" You thrashed again, achieving nothing by the action. The worst part, the dread that was quickly overtaking your thoughts, was that you knew it was futile. You'd learned a long time ago that your resistance would mean nothing, not by the brutal laws of the world outside of the fragile sense of safety human society provided. It was expected. It happened among the wolves themselves all the time -- the mates were not something that were chosen in the same way humans did. Too many times you'd witnessed the ritual -- the males would fight, snarling and growling and lunging at each other until one would give up and run scurrying away, tail tucked between its legs. Growing up with all the knowledge you'd learned from books and what humans generally observed of the animals, you'd always assumed that from that point, the she-wolves would then gladly and willingly copulate with the victor, but, you'd quickly learned, that was not the case. It had shocked you the first few times, your eyes widening and your mouth dropping open as you witnessed the poor females get tackled, mounted, their whimpers as teeth sank into their shoulders and kept them in place. It was brutal, and yet, you'd come to understand and accept it was simply the way things were. Perhaps the part that had shocked you the most was how accepted it was -- the other wolves would simply look on, adjusted to what was normal among them, and the brutalized female would, from that point on, act as a normal mate to what more or less was originally her assailant -- licking and grooming each other, sleeping next to one another, spending time with each other, all as if such a thing made sense. Given the acceptant, compliant state you sometimes found yourself slipping into, you supposed you weren't too different in that way. Because they're strong, you'd been told. Beating the other male and forcibly mating the female herself signified strength. They were supposed to try to run and fight, and the male was supposed to forcibly overpower them, a display of strength, of suitableness as a partner. That was why fighting back didn't matter -- it was supposed to be that way, in the minds of the animals, and thus they were content with that setup. The present moment was anything but content. Another rut of the wolf's hips brought you snapping out of your brief thought, back to the moment at hand. The forest was quiet aside from your own struggling, the last rays of light were fading from the sky, the moon hanging high in place of their light. You let out a shrill, squeaking cry, thrashing with renewed effort, but, predictably, not even budging. "Get off! Get off me! Stop it, bad dog!" No matter how you tried, you couldn't move your body in the slightest, perfectly pinned still. "Fuck..." It let out another whine, not even seeming to notice your struggles, grasping at your shoulder with its teeth, and you feared that if it bit down, it might shatter your shoulder. It rutted forward, and this time you froze, entire body going tense as the blunt head of its cock pressed firmly against your exposed slit. You finally managed to claw at the leaf-covered ground enough to pull yourself forward, if but just an inch -- and the wolf, snarling, thrust its own body forward to push you back into the same position. One of its front paws reached forward and clawed onto your shoulder, and you squealed as it pulled you back, forming a tiny cut in the flesh of your jugular. Your began to nearly hyperventilate, trembling, breaths shallow and quick. "S-stop..." Your plea was defeatedly quiet, realizing that further protest would only hurt you. Tears gathered in your eyes. Your back was bent at an angle under the sheer weight of the furry mass that kept you pinned, and it felt like your very lungs were crushed, breathing quickly becoming difficult. You began to feel your body tingling with numbness. It was so heavy and difficult to breathe you weren't certain you'd even survive if it fucked you. Panic seized your brain, overriding any coherent thought. There was a snarling, growling sort of noise that cut through the surrounding stillness. It wasn't coming from the creature mounted on your body. It didn't sound canid. It was human. Much like the howls, you had learned, with time, how to distinguish between the real and the imitation, those sounds that, no matter how long of a lifetime of practice one had, could simply not match the vocals of another species. The wolf stopped its motions, turning its head, and likewise immediately transitioned its entire demeanor, tensing up and returning the sound, a low snarl, baring its teeth as its snout wrinkled up. It dismounted your body and lowered itself to the ground, hips and shoulders raised as its core sank low, a preparatory stance ready to lunge. You fell forward, face crashing into the leaves, before scrambling upwards and falling back on your ass, propped up with your hands behind you and your knees bent as you froze, unable to move a muscle, eyes open wide and gasping for breath as air burned in your lungs. You could see red-orange eyes glaring in the moonlight from a short distance, and for once, the face of the wolf-boy made a wave of relief come crashing down, rather than panic at being found. He made another low sound in his throat, a snarling growl. His shoulders hunched up in a similar motion to the wolf, baring his teeth, glare locked on the transgressor. He didn't have a weapon on him, so his hands clenched into fists at his side. You'd witnessed this plenty of times in the past by now, but never before with him as one of the participants. The other male wolves within the pack hadn't exactly taken an interest in you, rather, simultaneously accepted you as one of their own, while seeming to recognize you as something of an "other," as they did him. Among them, though, these conflicts were regularly occurring, a constantly shifting hierarchal dynamic that was weighted in blood and pure brute strength. Your heartrate picked up anew. Strong as Razor may be, this thing was massive. And he didn't have his claymore, you remembered he'd left it near the den earlier, before going on his daily routine to check the various animal traps. This wolf could kill him. And given that it wasn't a pack member, it wouldn't hesitate to do so. The wolf took a few heavy steps forward, growling all the while, and the wolf-boy reciprocated the action, a deep low growl in his throat as he stomped forward, fingers curling into a claw-like shape, not exhibiting so much as the slightest hesitation to show aggression against the massive creature. You tried to stand on your shaking legs, but fell on your ass again. "W-wait, no, r-run," you stammered, words spewing out of your mouth before you could process them, "he'll hurt you--" Your vision went white, bright light exploded all around, a crashing, booming sort of sound cutting off your words. There was a heat to it that you could feel on your skin, but it blinded your vision, leaving you blinking as, in a mere moment, the electric energy faded to a purplish glow that sparked with a buzz in the palm of his hand. The wolf leaped back in terrified shock, immediately flattening its ears, turning and tucking its tail between its legs, scrambling with fear into the darkness of the trees. And just like that, the threat was gone. You were left slack-jawed, mouth hanging open, trembling and panting as you watched it disappear, footsteps growing quieter and quieter until they could no longer be heard. Instead, the leaves to your side crunched in a two-legged pattern as the figure drew closer, and then dropped down to his knees to get on a face-to-face level. You turned your head and your eyes met. His eyes were wide and pupils blown even wider, mouth slightly open, looking you over. His eyes had always had a softness to them, full of light. After a moment, he reached up, slowly, and wiped the tears from your eyes, a soft, unthinking gesture, and leaned forward. He nuzzled his face against yours, and, after a moment, licked a few quick, short laps up the side of your face. It was nothing you weren't very well used to, and you merely sat numbly as he did so. His eyes trailed downward, widening as they met the gash that had been created on your neck by the massive wolf's claws, and he leaned forward again, lapping at your skin. You inhaled a sharp breath at the sting of his tongue on the wound, but you knew it actually was helpful in terms of clotting, so you didn't resist. You sat like that for a moment, silent, still, letting him clean up the wound, saliva naturally helping the healing process. It was bizarrely intimate in its own way, but it certainly wasn't the first time he'd helped in that way with a wound. It stopped stinging after a moment, blood clotting under the wet warmth. He pulled his head back, looking over you again as if to ascertain your unharmed state, eyes wide and expression flat, looking directly at your face - your weary face, trembling lip, expression still uneasy from the remaining shock. "You... Okay?" There was a softness to his face, a wide-eyed look of innocent concern. You did your best to nod. Any hope you'd had left had been crushed at some point in the adrenaline of the encounter, and thus, all chances of escaping gone, defeat and weariness washed over your body, and you slumped forward in exhaustion. Of course, he was unaware of and most likely did not even consider why you suddenly fell against him, he tended to take any action you made at face value and accepted it as simply what it was, and likewise, every action he made was easily interpreted the same way. It was, you sometimes consoled yourself, a rather welcome simplicity in contrast to the hidden and subtle meanings that humans often portrayed through their actions, and you never had to worry about an innocent action being misinterpreted maliciously, nor did you worry that your emotions were too transparent in your actions. Instead, he merely seemed pleased by the gesture, eagerly wrapping his arms around your frame and pulling your closer, rubbing his head up and down so the sides of your faces nuzzled together, squeezing you tightly. "I heard you," he said, a cheerful sort of pride in his voice. "Came to help." You swallowed. "Th-thank you..." As much as his sudden appearance crushed any chance you had of reaching Springvale, you couldn't help but feel a genuine relief, even gratitude, for saving you from what would have undoubted been a highly painful and traumatizing experience, if you'd survived the lack of oxygen. Not that you weren't already getting your fair share of traumatizing experiences out here, but, well, none quite like what your experience would have been had he not shown up. After a still, silent moment of embrace, he released you, shifted and stood up, but then suddenly tensed, and his eyes widened with what seemed like surprise, or perhaps realization, mouth opening slightly. His eyes were cast downward, settled on the cord that was still tightly tied around your ankle, and reached down to loosen the knot, slipping it off and tossing the remaining cord to the side. You made a small sound as if to start speaking, but cut off and fell silent, shutting your mouth. And then, as he came back up, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and processing, mouth slightly open as he looked a bit to one side, then the other, to you, and up to the tree from which you'd hung. The wheels were turning. Finally, after a moment, it seemed to click, his eyes went wide with realization for a split second before he turned his head back towards you and narrowed his eyes in a glare. His "angry" face had always been a bit difficult to take seriously, he had maintained a baby face despite his age, big eyes and soft features making it look like more of a pout than anything, but in time you'd learned the rightful amount of fear to have at seeing it. Your heart sank in your chest. "You ran away again." His voice was a bitter, grumpy mumble. You'd feared that when you noticed the surprising lack of anger up until a few moments ago. That it hadn't yet clicked with him, until now, exactly why you were out here, how you got out here, in the first place. He might have thought the larger wolf had dragged you out here, or, perhaps more likely, it had not crossed his mind at all in the intensity of the previous moments, too focused on conflict and comfort. "I..." You trailed off, trembling. There was a moment of silence. You couldn't exactly argue against it. It was true that he was rather gullible, and would often believe rather ridiculous excuses or explanations that anyone else would never buy, but there were limits to that, and at the present moment, you couldn't think of any excuse that even he would believe. Even if the wolf had come in to drag you away, the she-wolf set to guard you would have made a noise to alert the others, and he knew that. There was a moment of silence, and, not receiving any objection to his claim, he exhaled a frustrated huff through his nostrils. "I'm mad." As nice as it was that you didn't have to worry about being misinterpreted, another pro to your situation was that your captor was easily the most transparent person you'd ever met, bluntly honest, so much so it sometimes worked against him. You were pretty sure he couldn't be indirect or subtle with his words if he tried. Passive-aggressiveness or anything of the sort was foreign. "I'm sorry," you murmured, hoping to ease his anger, but you knew by now those words didn't really hold any meaning to him. He opened his mouth, that same pout on his face, and took a breath as if to speak, but no words came out. He closed his mouth, looking at the ground for a moment, opened again, repeated the process, and again, before roughly shaking his head, head hanging and expression falling to something like irritation and disappointment. With other people, you'd feel more intimidated by silence, silence meant someone was angry and trying to get under your skin. And while he made no attempt to hide being angry, you knew the silence wasn't an intentional passive-aggressive act, but rather, just lacking the proper words. It was a process you went through frequently, and to some degree, you felt bad for him. Having feelings, having complex thoughts, but lacking the knowledge or ability to articulate them, being unable to adequately express what you thought and felt, limited to such simple terms as sad and mad, words that could only convey incredibly simple feelings... you could only imagine how frustrating that would be. He knew that those words weren't enough, but didn't have any other ones to use. You understood why, then, he grunted in frustration, kicking at the ground, sending a few leaves scattering. But you also knew that if he could not express himself with words, actions would have to suffice. You knew better than to expect any different. This routine, despite its variances in the specifics of how the events went down, went like clockwork from this point onward, the moment of defeat. They say humans are, after all, creatures of habit. You nonetheless let out a little surprised sound at the suddenness with which you were lifted by the armpits, quickly moved a few steps to the side and unceremoniously pushed forward, facing one of the many boulders that dotted the forest floor. Instinctively, releasing an exhale of defeat and acceptance, braced yourself against it, hands pressed into the rock. You were technically standing, but leaning far forward, bodyweight resting mostly onto the rock you were bending over on. His front pressed against you, hand pushing your back down into an arch, latching arms around your waist. There was no hesitation, no preparation, merely pulling the fabric of your dress up with one swift motion, and the waist of his pants down in another, all in a matter of a single moment, and rutting against you, once, twice, cock slipping against your folds, and on the third thrust, it actually slid in, pushing about halfway in with harsh force with no warning. You gasped at the sting, clawing at the rock as your face twisted with the slight pain, but his hand gripped hard on your shoulder. "Stay... Still." It was honestly impressive, you sometimes thought, to manage to get a cock inside you so easily with hip angling alone. He'd never thought to use his hands to do so, you guessed due to merely mimicking what he observed, as all humans did. Nonetheless, you let out a mewl at the feeling of friction against your walls as it dragged, pulling out a bit before slamming back in. Then again, faster. And again, faster still. And finally, setting into a rhythm, quick and harsh, your body lurching forward at the force. Defeat and despond had fully set in, and you made no movement to fight back, instead attempting to ease the discomfort by pushing back with the thrusts. And then, after a moment, it stopped. It often did -- again, a set pattern, a routine. Increasingly often these days, he changed his mind at this point, initially going with the instinctive, natural option, but it would take a moment to remember that there was an alternative. You shuddered at the sliding feeling and emptiness as he pulled back out, but even though you braced yourself, the air was knocked out of you as you were flipped over, back hitting the rock -- and this time aching as the bruising flesh from the earlier fall was hit again -- now leaning your weight onto the rock on your back, facing forward. The roughness with which you were tossed about and maneuvered was, you knew, not intentional, nor out of malice, but it always left you disoriented as your vision spun a bit. And it was only a single second before you were filled again, gasping a deep breath and reaching your hands out to claw at his back as you felt yourself stretched apart all in one motion, and your legs fell into the routine position of hooking over his arms. He liked it this way. The human way, he called it, with you on your back in some form rather than on your hands and knees, facing him rather than turning away, which had been the only way you'd done it -- you supposed the only way he had been familiar with -- for a good while. You'd introduced the position once when your arms and legs were exhausted from strain, and, perhaps to your relief, it became the most common way that the routine went down. You supposed that, deep down, no matter the way in which a person was raised, there were certain innate needs and instincts that could not be overridden, woven into the very biology of a person. For humans, intimacy, the feeling of affection, and you supposed that that itch was met for him more adequately this way. And he liked to mimic normal behaviors in that regard. You recalled a time ago, back before you were brought out here for good, the wide-eyed fascination with which he'd watch passing couples of people on the road and streets, would make an attempt to imitate the same actions, albeit lacking in the same gentleness, technique, or appropriate timing. Reaching out to grab and hold your hand (with a crushing grip) as you walked, awkwardly pressing your mouths together (so firmly that your teeth clacked and your jaw hurt). That, at least, had gotten better. Now, it was somewhat gentle, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. Gentle, but still very awkward, lacking in the rhythmic motions with which you'd expect, more like holding still but pressing firmly against you, but lapping a quick lick to your lips. You could taste blood on his lips and tongue, a permanent coppery taste that never went away. That didn't last long. It was hard to maintain the mouth contact when he started rutting into you, causing your body to rock in jerking motions up and down on the surface, and his face buried itself into your shoulder, panting shallow breaths that were warm against your flesh. And again, like clockwork, you knew how the issue of your body rocking back and forth, disrupting the rhythm, would be solved, and you inhaled as you braced yourself, first for the tightening grip of arms around your waist, and then-- You gasped a sharp breath despite your mental preparation as teeth sunk into your jugular, opposite the one with the injury, further locking your bodies together. He growled, a low throaty sound. Teeth gnawed at your shoulder before releasing and sinking down in a different spot, digging into the flesh just short of the force it would take to break it. You cursed whichever god thought it would be funny to give him abnormally sharp canines. Even with your weight leaning against the rock, a good portion of it was still being supported by his arms, which, with any normal human being, you would hope would cause enough strain to perhaps slow down the actual thrusting, but you knew better by now. Nor did you expect any kind of buildup or anything, no, you gritted your teeth at the immediate fast pace that dragged against your insides, raw and with little fluid to lessen the friction. The quickness and suddenness always left you sore, your internal parts not having enough time or stimulation to expand or prepare, so each thrust that slammed into the top of your insides sparked a shock of pain and pleasure sensation so strong your entire body jolted with the feeling. The bruising soreness of the recent abuse to the same spot -- how many times earlier today, three, four? -- heightened the sensitivity. And, as with the rest of the routine, you didn't expect words. You couldn't blame him -- talking was hard enough when he was focused, you imagined it was much harder when preoccupied with sensation, and with less blood in the brain. It also made sense that he didn't seem to process anything you said either -- any slow down or wait fell on deaf ears, or rather, non-comprehending ears. Eventually you, too, fell into the same state- "I-- hah, ah, w-wait, mnn-" -- unable to form words, unable to take in anything around you, pure sensation clouding your brain of any and all thoughts. You heard your own little cries ring out and echo through the empty forest, and soft, pleasured whines in your ear, hot breath from panting that grew faster and faster as the thrusts became more erratic and harder, slamming in and out, the wet, slapping sound ringing out with your own voice. It pushed against all the right spots, stretching you incomprehensibly full, overloading your brain with the feeling, and the harder your nails sank into his back, the harder his teeth bit down into your neck. The sparks of pain from the feeling felt small, distant, erased by the overwhelming good feeling created by adrenaline and pleasure, and the thought of how badly it would hurt later was the furthest thing from your mind in the moment. And because you knew words meant nothing in the heat of these moments, you had learned that announcing or warning for orgasm didn't matter. Neither of you needed words -- as with many things, you could communicate it without them just fine. He could still sense it, the way you clenched and your hands grasped at his hair and raked down his spine, and in response, the thrusting somehow grew harder and faster still. A perfect and clearly understood communication as clear as any verbal exchange. The squealing you made, the way your body spasmed and your back arched, was better than anything you could have said, really. You weren't... actually fully certain he understood the action as anything other than communication, like a message indicating "cum now." You assumed that was what it meant to him, since, as always, you felt the movement stop, panting as he pushed into your one more time, holding your hips as close as possible as you felt a twitching inside. It was always perfectly coordinated like that. The peak was always too short, always that same burst of feeling that you wished could last just a moment longer, leaving you panting. Heavy breaths in and out, shuddering, sweaty flesh clinging to each other. You could feel the arms that held your legs up shaking with aftershock, forehead falling to rest against the spot between the mounds of your chest. Then, after a moment, a nuzzle, slowly rubbing a cheek against your collarbones. As soon as that stopped, his head popped up again, looking up at your face with those same wide amber eyes, soft and somehow, despite everything, they always seemed so innocent and bright. A curious, but fairly neutral, content sort of wide-eyed gaze. Anger resolved. Sometimes you were grateful it was that easy. "Ok. You're... good, now." You understood without needing it explained. "Good" indicated something along the lines of fixed or resolved, the phrase "you're good" indicating, in this context, resolution. You assumed it had originated from listening to others in some context or another. You swallowed, and nodded. There was no point in fighting now. A sort of numbing aftershock had set in, and your head was spinning so much that even if you ran, you might fall over on your own without the inevitable tackling. It was a struggle for another day... the same conclusion this always, always resulted in, a conclusion you reached more and more quickly each time, but you tried to put the concern that thought sparked away, merely standing on trembling legs. "...Stupid hunting trap," you muttered, giving the remains of cord a kick into the leaves. He tilted his head and made a soft hm? of confusion. "Th-the trap," your voice was raspy. "They laid out traps for - for catching animals, the hunters, you know." He blinked for a moment as he processed your words, then shook his head, but smiled, beaming with pride. "Mm-nn, I made it. Put lots of them around here." You squinted, head jerking up to scan the treeline - sure enough, now that you looked closer, you could see several treetops dotted with similar nets full of scraps set to make a sound when triggered and struggled against. In fact, the more you gazed around, you realized there were easily dozens and dozens of similar traps, some of different styles and shapes, all perfectly lining the edge of the woods before the road. "...You won't catch things like that," you muttered. "It's too close to the end of the woods." Another slightly confused stare. He shook his head. "Traps are... for you." You could always count on him for two things. Undying loyalty, and obtuse honesty. You blinked at him, expression flat in blunt surprise, then, with a crooked smile, you let out a single huff of bitter, tired laughter. You were numbed to the point that you were, at the very least, able to recognize the humor of it all. Another way of coping, perhaps. It only occurred to you then, as your thoughts cleared, how relief had washed over you when the lone wolf had run out into the night, but your mind had not been focused on your own violation. You remembered your words. Run, he'll hurt you. Your only concern in that moment had been his safety. The thought set off some sort of alarm bell in your head, but the utter exhaustion made it difficult to place much concern in anything.

Your legs were trembling in aftershock, numb and heavy, but it wasn't as if that mattered. Even as you briefly put a hand to the stone beside you to lean your weight onto in an effort to stand, you knew you wouldn't be walking anyway, that wasn't part of the routine. And sure enough, as you got about halfway upward, arms wrapped around your waist instead, and you were roughly maneuvered, tossed like a ragdoll, knocking the breath out of you as you were tossed over his shoulder. "Okay, we're going home, now." He started taking a few heavy steps forward, not even struggling in the slightest to carry your full bodyweight, instead walking as if you were light as air. You didn't protest. You slumped over defeatedly, merely casting your gaze all around, trying desperately to memorize the locations of at least a few of the traps in the dark, but knowing full well in the back of your mind you'd never get past them all. No matter how you may outsmart them, you could never win. It occurred to you that, in a way, you were the one falling for the same trick over and over, continuously placing a ridiculous hope in escape and falling for your own foolishness time and time again. Perhaps that made you a bit more like the animals than you liked to admit.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Poseidon

Fishy fishy fishy… I honestly could write 100 more things for Poseidon MC and Levi. I just love the dynamic between an insecure, otaku shut-in and a chill California surfer dead set on becoming his friend.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon 

For anyone unaware, Poseidon is also the god of horses. I know it's a weird combo, but I didn't write the mythos.

Lucifer

…..

They came out of the portal….

On a horse….

They brought the mortal down to the Devildom…

On a goddamn horse….

There's a demigod on a live horse brandishing a weapon and doing laps around the Student Council Room…

Congratulations, he already wants to pull his hair out!!

Honestly, it would have been preferable to pluck them out of the sea. At least then they'd just need a towel! What the hell were they going to do with an entire horse!?

And his nightmare didn't stop there. Poseidon is a notoriously mercurial god, prone to bouts of anger and spitefulness for reasons far less grievous than kidnapping his children… 

Their apology was swift and (seemingly) effective, though the tide waters around the Devildom did rise by several feet for some time…

As for the MC… uh… Well, they're an energetic one to say the least…

Lucifer hasn't met a more active individual since Mammon. They horseback ride, swim, surf, skateboard, and probably do ten other things - the point is, they Hardly. Keep. Still! 

They're also annoyingly easygoing… He can't count the number of times they've told him to, "Just chill out," or, "Hang loose…" What does that even mean??

Between having to order a stable made for their horse and just trying to keep up with them, Lucifer already thinks this mortal has caused him more trouble than they're worth… At least they keep Mammon busy...

Mammon

Upon first meeting them atop their horse, Sunset, his first thought was of course:

"I wonder if I sell that...?"

After that, they nearly fed him to sharks for trying to take their beloved steed on same night. Safe to say, he never touched a hair on its head again…

These two had a rocky start, but their relationship mended fairly quickly. As it turns out, the MC is literally one of those "go with the flow" types. You can say it was water under the bridge soon enough.

Mammon actually thinks the MC is a hell of a lot of fun, even if they're super laid-back. Most of the time, they won’t take his drive for money (or fear of his bills) all that seriously and tell him that he’s worrying too much, but they’ll still lend a hand if its on their way.

He finds their ability to control water pretty cool as well. Levi has it to some extent, but the MC can make a whole-ass whirlpool or use water like a whip! 

He once begged them to call up some rare fish for him to sell, but they got all pseudo-philosophical on him about how ���trading life for material wealth” is “not cool, dude...”

He also made the mistake of challenging them to a splash fight only once…. They managed to drench the whole family with a single wave….

The only thing that bothers him is their weird insistence on being Levi's "Best Buddy…" Why would someone like them even bother with a shut in??

Is it the water? … Probably water. Levi, that lucky bastard…

Leviathan 

Thinks they're a big normie, no scratch that, a HUGE normie! The biggest normie he's ever met!! They skateboard and horseback ride for Devil's sake!!

...But they’re also, undoubtedly, the best friend he could've ever asked for.

To be fair to Levi, their friendship was sort of forced upon him. The MC took one look at him, his aquatic-themed room, and his pet goldfish then declared their new friendship status at that moment. 

Unfortunately for him, though, they're energetic, extroverted, and generally have little understanding of personal space… aka, an introvert's worst nightmare…

The next month could accurately be described as the MC doing everything in their power to make their stubborn "senpai" like them.

They would drag him out to the aquarium, beach, or pool; they befriended Henry so he could put in a good word for them; and they'd even bring him little gifts or trinkets they'd find on the ocean floor. Pretty shells and stuff like a cat bringing its master a dead mouse.

After he finally began to accept them as a persistent fixture in his life, he introduced them to gaming and anime and started accepting them little by little...

By the end of their stay, these two were practically inseparable. Not just because they like spending time together, but because they figured out they could have a telepathic link due to Levi being part sea serpent. 

No matter how far they are, they can always have a chat! (That no one else can hear so people think they’re just crazy...)

Satan

Satan honestly isn't the MC's biggest fan, he generally finds them too loud and gregarious for his liking. But their horse…?

He never really thought that he'd be a horse man... Yet it didn’t really take long for Satan to adore Sunset, their beautiful golden-maned mare. Apparently she's not their only horse, but by far their favorite traveling companion.

Sunset is a wonderful horse - brave, strong, and well-trained. It only took a few weeks before he was regularly sneaking out to the stables to brush her fur or feed her apples...

After the MC taught him how to ride, that was it. All other forms of transportation were inferior to him now.

Satan would ride Sunset everywhere and he looked damn good doing it! It takes all that fairytale Prince Charming thing he has going on and puts it through the roof.

It's a good thing too, because when I say everywhere, I do mean everywhere. Lucifer had to put seals on the House doors to keep Satan from riding Sunset through the hallways...

Of course, he’ll always let the MC have Sunset back when they need her!... with a little complaining but nothing terrible.

The MC doesn't mind much because Sunset likes him and they know he takes good care of her, but the rest of the House is slightly unnerved at how quickly he went horse crazy… What if they brought a giant crab instead?? No one wants to deal with crab-Satan...

Asmodeus 

Their body is just scrumptious. Oh, how he could look at their swimsuit-clad figure all day!! 😩

Between the swimming and the fighting, their form is toned to all hell and he can't get enough of it! Yes baby, yes!! Take those clothes off again!!! He'll help~! 😘

When he's not staring at them “totally respectfully,” then he's inviting them out to pool parties or begging them to take him riding...

There are parts of horseback riding he doesn’t like, the smell and the jostling specifically, but there is a kind of… romance to it, no?

He loves having the chance to snuggle up to the MC as they trot around the Devildom! It's so romantic, like they’re his knight in shining armor! (Or his demigod in a damp swimsuit, either works. 😏)

His Devilgram is just full of selfies of him and MC riding on the back of Sunset or sitting by the edge of the pool or them in the middle of a swim meet…

Yeah his Devilgram is now a one part him and one part MC-Appreciation account.

After the pact he'll eventually cool down some and stop staring at them like a sex-object, but even then he'll be at every swim meet. Don't you worry~

Beelzebub 

He actually really likes them! It's great to finally have another athlete in the House. 😊

The MC joined the RAD swim team just as soon the coach was able to convince Diavolo that having the child of a water god wasn't completely cheating... 

Since swim and fangol practice ends at about the same time, they walk home together a lot and complain about... sports things... (Forgive me, I don’t know sports. Uhm... Rival teams? Coaches? That one drill everyone hates? Stuff like that.)

Beel also can surf, skate, and snowboard so the two have a healthy competition going. They're about on equal footing so they tie often (except in surfing but Beel doesn't think that should count cause they’re probably cheating).

The only thing that he has to watch out for is Sunset… As in, he has to watch himself around Sunset because he absolutely could eat her on accident… 

Look, he doesn't want to and he doesn't even like horse meat that much, but even he has to admit there are times he gets hungry enough to consider it…

Of course, he knows that if he ever did Satan would rip him limb from limb then the MC would drown the rest so he really, really tries to control himself… but still… She’s a very healthy horse...

At least he didn’t try to sell her like Mammon. The MC hung him over a shark tank for that stunt… He’d feel bad, but Mammon kind of had it coming.

Belphegor 

The first time they met, the MC smelled like beach water and called him "dude-bro…" He didn't like his prospects.

For a while, he genuinely thought that they had a lump of sand where their brain was. They were just too chill!! Here he was saying that he's being held captive and they were like, "Well that sucks, man… I'll help ya, but I've got practice tomorrow. You can wait, right?"

It's not like he expected them to jump on top of it, but some urgency would have been nice…

When they eventually got around to helping him, he was actually looking forward to choking the life out of them for the extra wait. Unfortunately, they apparently had a horse…

Yeah, Belphie found out just a bit too late that the MC could summon their steed to them whenever they wanted and ended up with Sunset's hooves firmly bucking into his back for his trouble…

What followed was Belphegor running circles around the attic from the weapon-totting MC riding their terrifying murder horse until Lucifer finally intervened....

Thank the gods he wasn’t near any water….

As it would turn out later, as long as he's not being held captive in an attic Belphie kind of vibes with their laid-backness… They say they approach life "one wave at a time" or something.

He could care less about what that actually means, but what it translates to is "Stop stressing out and just keep chill" which he's all about.

Everybody should just chill out!... dude…. Nah, he'll let them stick to the “dude”-thing, it feels weird...

[just-the-hiddles]

Your Fandom Isn’t Dying...

So I got asked a really interesting question the other week.  A lovely follower asked me what I thought was the cause for the Hiddles (and by a lesser extent the Loki) fandom slow death.  I came back with an answer but I want to dive a little deeper into this.  Because I have thoughts. I’m on exile island. So let’s go. I will be talking specifically about those two fandoms because well look at the url.  But many of these ideas, thoughts, concepts, etc. apply to many fandoms.

1. Pandemic. Y’all we are STILL in a pandemic. Nearly two years and counting.  And while many may have sought comfort in their fandom within the earlier times of COVID.  Life has a sneaky way of requiring your attention.  There is a “business as usual” mentality. Note it is not business as usual. And with that, many have had to step away from their fandom pursuits.

2. Social Media Platforms Are Not Friendly To Creators. Talk to any content creator on just about any social media platform and they will likely tell you engagement is down.  Instagram keeps tweaking its algothrim. TikTok doesn’t reward content creators and bans accounts.  Tumblr shadowbans or marks explicit creators (Waves hello from exile island). And that is not even taking into accountable the fans, followers, readers, consumers. Which brings me to...

3. Engagement and Feedback Is Down For Creators. It’s a vicious cycle. The readers don’t engage, reblog, comment, so creators create less because despite what you may want to think and what I have said previously, creators usually don’t create for the hell of it. They want, they need positive reinforcement. And when that is not there, they stop creating, there’s less to respond to. It’s hard writing to a brick wall.

4. Bullying and Harassment. I don’t know how else to discuss this, but this happens ALL THE TIME.  And this is not just about the bullying and harassment of individual creators, I am talking about the trend to attack ANYONE who may express a differing opinion from your own.  

So let’s talk Loki for a moment. When the series was announced, people were excited, people were nervous.  There was speculation, there were leaked photos, there was promo. At that point, things were staying relatively pleasant. But you could see what happened coming from a mile away. And then the series premiered.   And holy fucking hell. I saw things along the lines of If you liked this show, you’re evil and support inc#$t. Poor Tom for having to be dragged into this project (he was an executive producer, he spoke in multiple interviews about how involved he was in the process of developing the series). There were death threats, harassment. ALL OF IT. OVER FICTIONAL CHARACTERS! It essentially got to a point where if someone said anything that didn’t sound like outright disgust, the “antis” (I hate that fucking word) were all over it. I was unfollowing, blocking, and just not coming onto Tumblr more so than ever before.  And so were many of my friends.  No one wants to hang out somewhere where someone dropped a bunch of rotting food in the middle of room. Your opinion is yours, but no one else may want to hear it but that doesn’t mean you get to use it as a weapon.

5. Fans/Readers/Followers Have Become More Demanding and Entitled.  Again, this is not new behavior but it seems like it is increasing in frequency and bizarreness. Like most recently a great Loki writer on here wrote a story that didn’t exclusively feature Loki. GASP! Many of her readers took it upon themselves to jump into her inbox (anon, naturally. Because if you’re going to be nasty you don’t want to show your face) to tell her to stay in her lane and only write Loki.  BITCH SAY WHAT?! You, as a consumer, do not dictate what a creator creates.  Period. No ifs, no buts, no coconuts. 

And that goes for most things.  You don’t get to go into someone’s inbox (again anon, NOT THE FACE) and demand they post the next chapter. They will post when they are damn good and ready.  Don’t fucking send death threats because they wrote dark fic and they hurts your sensibilities.  JUST DON’T. It makes you look like a dick and has the exact opposite effect.

Another side of this little entitled coin, is this bizarre notion that we as fans are somehow entitled to a piece of the character/celebrities. Are you a member of their family? Part of their PR team? No? Well then back about about 100 feet.  While the virtue of being a celebrity often forces someone into the spotlight it does not mean their lives are on display.  That means you shouldn’t be posting personal contact information about them, their loved ones, girlfriends/boyfriends, etc. Yeah why you know their home address anyways? Hmmm.... And if your main crush finds love, be fucking happy for them.  Love is a rare and special gift and to find that in the fishbowl they live in can be an extraordinary task.  This is not a rom com, this is not “if he only met me, he would leave her and be with me” My Best Friend’s Wedding scenario.  Remember Julia Roberts didn’t get the guy in the end. 

6. Things Change and People Need To Change Too. As with everything in life, fandom comes in ebbs and flows. Like the Hiddles fandom, 2019 was a glorious year. We had Betrayal, we were getting Stage Door appearance nightly. It was delicious. We got stuff during the pandemic while everyone was cooped up with Coriolanus, Loki filming.2021 was the series, filming new things, interviews, etc.  We were eating rich. But now it is quiet, so we hold onto things from the past and reminisce.  And that’s okay.  Things change and evolve.  

So when you think about fandom dying, think about the behavior happening in fandom.  Maybe it’s not dying, maybe people are essentially killing it, rather than encouraging it.

Hope you have the day you deserve! 

[grimae]

I follow you, for a while, for your original fantasy art (incredible stuff by the way) and just because you answered that anon about your tag that I've come to know the weird overlap in our experiences, I also have been writing/daydreaming about my own fantasy world since I was ten and I also have a google doc filled with lore. Being your own lore master is so hard sometimes, but I've found organization is the key for me, do you have any methods that make it easier for you to find/remember stuff?

Sup! Thank you so much first of all! For the greatest part in my life I kept literally everything stashed away in my brain. Only in late 2018, early 2019, I started actually writing things down. Can't remember anymore how it started, but I made a world-building discord server with a dear friend and just dropped everything in there that had some kind of relevancy, also actually starting to write down my thoughts about my characters. At one point I realized that it had become way too much so I copy pasted everything into a google doc file just to see how much. That specific google doc is now my exposition dump doc, it's where I throw in every single thought only to have it securely stashed away. I then later started writing individual docs on things I needed to have sorted. How dragons work, Sacrosanct creatures, vampire lore, alchemy, magic, some general world-building thoughts, etc etc. There was an honest desperate need for that too, because with the current five-trillion pages, the doc needs literal ages to load, lags and slows down my PC like hell. I made a list of all my characters with some basic and more or less important information, such as how many languages they speak, when their birthdays are, their heights and physical ages, if vampire. And to accompany that, a big damn relationship sheet that is a mess to look through because it doesn't take in account that literally over 1600 years happen between all these characters, so I don't share it unless I know people have a general gist of the lore and can fill that temporal hole themself.

Later I made my own discord server, with only me, for general safekeeping of all kinds of informations.

That is how I sort things in there. I still throw everything important into the old one with my friend though, it's just that I got kinda self-conscious about how much I jump from point A to C with no coherence for anyone but me and wanted to start sorting things first to make it understandable, lol. The skindarimian-exposition-dump channel is here where I write down every single thought, then I drop it into the google doc every end of the month. Discord has this little perfect trait that I can very easily access it from all my devices. Can't tell you how often I woke up at 2 am and my first grab was for my phone because I had a thought I needed to write down. So yeah I guess my way of keeping track is a very thorough amount of google docs, a discord server (or two), and backups of all that saved on my PC. It's honestly so much more messy than I want it to be but for the last three years, almost four, this mess has been well lived in.

Btw, the daily channel used to be a challenge where in 2021 I wrote down a little thing every day. A try at a poem, a short story, etc. 2021 was successfully finished with only a few days skipped. I wanted to drag it into this year as well but around February my brain got too clouded for another thing I had to do daily so I stopped. The google-docs channel is just links to all the docs. Rewrites is me noting down things I have to rewrite or thoughts on how to organize. Bots is Book of the Sun relating stuff.

[sirikenobi12]

War & the Jedi

This will be a long meta rant, FYI.

The Jedi Order, specifically the Prequel era Jedi Order, gets a lot of hate these days particularly regarding their involvement in the Clone Wars. Accusations are tossed at their feet constantly ranging from corruption all the way up to warmongering. 

Let’s first look at the Oxford English Dictionary definition of these two accusations, shall we?

Corruption - having or showing a willingness to act dishonestly in return for money or personal gain.

Warmonger - a person who encourages or advocates aggression towards other countries or groups.

The definitions of these two words are so very misunderstood when it comes to relation to the Jedi. If the Jedi are truly “corrupt” then where are the examples of their dishonesty for wealth or personal gain? In fact, I’d argue that canon (and Legends) makes a point to show us that it is the Sith who are in it for personal gain, not the Jedi. The Jedi have absolutely NOTHING to gain from this war on a personal level, in fact they are losing members in terrifying numbers.

The Jedi are also not advocating aggression towards the Separatists, in fact what we see instead is the Jedi DEFENDING against the Separatists. I have yet to see in either canon or legends an instance where the Republic forces invade a Separatist planet who doesn’t have an army or some military involvement (i.e. weapon factories). However, time after time we see the Separatists forcing peaceful planets who want nothing to do with them to either bow to their cause or die (i.e. Ryloth, Lurmen planet, Kiros, Mandalore) the Jedi and Republic Troops will then follow the Separatists to these planets, but they try to do what they can to liberate the planet from the Separaist invasion and then they give the planet the OPTION to join the Republic for safety and economic reasons, but they never force them, as is super evident with Mandalore.

Yet people don’t seem to see this and continue to drag the Jedi through the mud. 

Here are the top 5 other “woke” takes I hear - 

Jedi are peacekeepers and should not have gotten involved:

 First things first, let’s look at the definition of Peacekeeper - a soldier, military force, etc., deployed to maintain or restore peace. 

I’d argue by that definition the Jedi were still peacekeepers, it’s true that they weren’t a 3rd party as they normally were before the war, but their position was trying to maintain or restore peace. Peacekeeper is not the same thing as a Pacifist, the Jedi were skilled warriors (training from childhood to wield a lightsaber), the difference is Jedi used their skills for defense not attack which is what we constantly saw throughout the Clone Wars. 

With regards to the idea that Jedi “should not have gotten involved” I ask you then what exactly were they supposed to do instead?

 We see at the beginning of Attack of the Clones that the Jedi are worried things will escalate to war, they have obviously gone to the Chancellor hoping that a diplomatic solution can be presented to avoid bloodshed. Or if that isn’t possible then that the Republic have some way to defend themselves other than relying solely on the Jedi (i.e. an army). The Separatists are the ones pushing them to a breaking point, were the Jedi just supposed to stand back and let innocent people be invaded/killed because they didn’t want to get involved? The Jedi were “Guardians of Peace and Justice” which means it was their duty to help bring about peace in the galaxy while also enacting justice. 

Then after Geonosis (where they lost approx. 187 members mind you) they learned that the Sith are leading the Separatist army - the Jedi are duty bound by their code to fight the Sith, they had no choice but to join the war. 

So, I ask again...what were they supposed to do instead?

2.  Jedi used a slave army for their own purposes:

 Okay, I can (and probably will) write a whole argument based on just this accusation alone. There are so many fallacies I don’t even know where to begin but I’ll try. 

I guess my first question is the same as #1, what were the Jedi supposed to do instead with regards to the Clones? 

Technically speaking the Clones didn’t “belong” to the Jedi, they were “property” of the Republic (as stated by Lama Su in Attack of the Clones). In fact, the Jedi Council not only didn’t know about the order, they had vehemently denied Syfo Dias’ earlier request to raise an army in the first place. The Sith KNEW the Jedi would be against it, this was all part of their plan to trap the Jedi (as was EVERYTHING about the war) - they clouded the Force, they literally deleted Kamino from the Archives so the Jedi wouldn’t discover it until the Sith WANTED them to (i.e. Jango just happened to use a Kamino dart?? Come on people). Yoda even states “blind we are if creation of this clone army we could not see” he fully admits they missed it because the Dark Side was clouding their vision. 

Regardless, the army was created, there was no changing that fact. Had the Jedi not taken command of the army do you think the Clones wouldn’t have had to go to war? Do  you actually believe that the Republic who couldn’t get their citizens to give 2 craps about the war would’ve taken up the mantle and fought instead? Do you think if the Jedi were like “thanks, but we didn’t order this” that the Kamioans would’ve just let the Clones go free? 

The answer you’re looking for is...no. 

So, like absolutely everything about the Clone Wars the Jedi did the best they could with the cards they had been dealt. They chose to lead the army on the front lines, putting themselves in just as much mortal danger as the men they were leading. They even sent a member of the Jedi Council to oversee the creation of future clones/training to ensure they were being treated humanely (something the Kamioans thought was ridiculous). They were the first to tell the clones that they were individuals, they constantly put themselves in front of their men to protect them (i.e. season 7 Obi-Wan deflecting the rocket from blowing up his men). The Jedi did what they could, just because we didn’t see on screen Jedi stopping to grieve every time a clone died did not mean that they didn’t care - real life Generals can’t stop in the middle of a battle to grieve over their fallen soldiers either, so why is it we consider it a moral crime if the Jedi don’t?

Another thing I’ll add is once the Jedi had evidence that the Clones were actually ordered by Dooku, did they immediately stop and say “oh hell no, these flesh droids can’t be trusted, we should just have them decommissioned”?? NO! They defended the Clones, stating that they were good men and should be trusted (and look where that trust got them in the end).

The Jedi were forced/coerced to fight this war as much as the Clones were!! Why are we willing to forgive the Clones, but not the Jedi???

3. Ki-Adi-Mundi killing Geonosians was the same as Anakin’s slaughter at the Tusken camp: 

This is another moment where context is everything because there is a HUGE difference between Ki-Adi-Mundi on Geonosis and Anakin in the Tusken camp. The fact that I have to even spell it out makes me wonder how people can even dress themselves in the morning. 

The Geonosians were an opposing military force, attacking Ki-Adi and his troops. Anakin slaughtered unarmed women and children out of vengeance. 

Now, had Ki-Adi turned to his men and screamed “to the catacombs!” brandishing his lightsaber with a murderous glint in his eyes and proceeded to cut down the unarmed bugs below the battle then you’d have an accurate comparison on your hands and I’d be appalled right there with you.

But, as it stands this is not the same thing...not even close.

4. The Jedi sent children to war: 

So, this is a tougher one and I can even understand the concerns behind it, and I even share some of those concerns. The thing I will say to this is, given what we see throughout Star Wars, what constitutes a “child” seems to be different than our own real world definition. 

Padme, for example, was 14 when she was elected Queen, and she wasn’t even the youngest ever elected. She (and her handmaids) were trained as children to defend themselves and their people both politically and in battle (much like Jedi), but you don’t hear people condemning the people/traditions of Naboo the way we see the Jedi being condemned for theirs.

Jedi children arguably mature faster than your standard person, and with regards to Star Wars there are also species’ age ranges to keep in mind. Grogu for example is still a baby at age 50, could it be possible that Ahsoka at age 14 is on the same maturity level as a human in their early twenties due to her Togruta DNA?? We don’t know, it’s never stated other than Anakin saying something about because of her advanced skills he forgets how young she is. 

Obviously Boba Fett is treated like an adult by other Bounty Hunters - no one even questions when he picks up a job and is placed in charge of a group at age 12 or 13 (and he is placed in an adult prison without anyone questioning it). It could be that by law according to Star Wars that 13 is actually considered an adult. Throughout history (and in many different cultures) 13 was when people were considered to be “coming of age”, So, once again we’re placing our cultural biases onto a fictional space fantasy world without realizing it might not even be an issue in that world.  

But even beyond all of that I ask you again - what else should the Jedi have done? 

Their young Padawans would eventually have to grow into Jedi Knights, even before the war by the time they are teenagers they usually followed their Masters on missions (often very dangerous missions) in order to get real world experience. At the time of the Clone Wars the real world they were living in was one at war. If they hadn’t brought their Padawans onto the battlefield how else would they have learned how to strategize, or how to cope with the emotions of battle? They would’ve been ill prepared if the war had continued on for years and years as it had looked like it was going to do...once again, the Jedi had no real choice in this. 

5. The Jedi lost their way because of the war: 

Did they though?? I’d argue they actually didn’t. We first have to ask ourselves what is a Jedi - well, according to the very first time we hear any type of a description about a Jedi they are introduced as the “Guardians of Peace and Justice for the Republic” I don’t see how the war took that away from them. 

The Oxford definition of Guardian is a defender, protector, or keeper. I fail to see how the Jedi stopped being any of these things because of the war.

Here’s the bottom line, the Jedi’s biggest mistake was that they fell for a plot 1,000 years in the making. The Sith spent over a millenia perfecting/hatching this plan, there was nothing the Jedi could’ve done to prevent the war by the time the trap was sprung. As always, I’m not saying the Jedi were perfect (I hate that I have to always specify that when I argue that the Jedi were good), all I’m saying is they tried to do the most good that they could with the situation they fell into - few groups/characters can claim the same thing.

Everyone seems to forget that the Sith controlled BOTH SIDES to that war, there was nothing - absolutely NOTHING the Jedi could’ve done that would’ve changed or won that war. So, instead they saved as many innocent lives as they could and to me, that’s very Jedi. 

[sneezefiction]

manager reader getting hit on

Tsukishima, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Ushijima x Reader - Manager Reader Headcanons

@belli-jelly‘s request: “May I req hcs for tsukki, oikawa, iwaizumi, & ushi wherein their manager!s/o during qualifiers, instead of kiyoko on s2, got hit on by terushima when their s/o went back the gym to get smth that the team left behind/forgot. What would be their reactions?? You can change things up if this is too specific hehe.”

a/n: okay so i used Terushima (our lovable f-boy) in Tsukki’s hc, but changed it up for the rest of them. i also made it so that you weren’t their s/o yet, but there are def feelings involved! hope this is ok!!

warnings: harassment, slight language

total wc: 1300

---

Tsukishima:

the Karasuno boys were getting restless waiting outside for their beloved manager by the bus

and it’s not that Tsukki was super worried… but you’d been missing for a little while now

you weren’t answering his phone calls and Tsukki had a sneaking suspicion that something was wrong

“What’d you do this time, y/n…” he sighs under his breath, making his way back to the gym

he starts his search where he last spotted you, but there’s nobody there

Tsukishima is slightly concerned now, listening out for any voices or noises in case it had anything to do with you

when he reaches the hallway, he recognizes the echo of your voice

“-not interested and I need to find my team, sorry!” your nervous response directed at a bleach-blonde volleyball player… with piercings?

“Come onnn, babe. I just want your number!” Terushima’s hand his now by your head, your back pushed up against the wall

“Oye, back off, asshole.” Tsukki’s voice rings out, still walking his way over to you

Teru only briefly glances at him then immediately turns his attention back to you, stepping closer

you have a panicked look on your face and for the first time in a while, Tsukishima’s chest tightens in empathy which morphs into a muted fury

“I said get off of her.” Tsukki’s hand is on Terushima’s shoulder now, pushing him away from you

“Jeez, okay bro.” Teru responds with a smirk, throwing his hands up, “I was leaving now, anyway.��� 

as soon as he’s gone you can finally breathe again

Tsukki turns to ask if you’re okay, but before he gets a word out, your arms are around his back

“Thank you, Tsukki. I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

the shock of your touch fades a little and he slowly wraps his arms around you, a barely noticeable flush on his face

“Stop going off on your own, stupid… and don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Oikawa:

it was 30 minutes into practice at the Seijoh school gym and you were a no show

which is incredibly unusual considering you usually arrived before the rest of the team (besides maybe Oikawa, who’s already warmed up)

Oikawa checks with the entire team, asking them if they’d noticed you on their way inside or if you’d said anything about missing practice, but no one has seen or heard from you

luckily, Oikawa keeps tabs on his team, which includes you since you’re their manager (and he kinda-sorta likes you a lot)

so he takes a short break, quickly making his way to your usual hangout spots and checking around corners

it takes him a moment to soak it in, but there are two guys cornering you near your locker

he knows, in most cases, you can handle things by yourself… but this feels so wrong

you’re clearly uncomfortable, uninterested… and once he catches you eye, he can tell you’re scared

before he knows it, Oikawa has already grabbed one of them by the shirt and shoved them away from you

“What the hell is your problem??” he shouts, “Get away from her.”

Oikawa is literally seething at this point, hand gripping even tighter on the boys shirt, threatening to tear the fabric

his friend recognizes Oikawa and knows that the whole school would find out about this if they didn’t leave soon

so they both take off down the halls

he turns around, grasping your hands firmly

“Are you okay, y/n? Are you hurt?”

“I... I’ll be okay.” but he feels you shaking

“Let’s just get out of here then. I’m gonna take you out for a few to get some fresh air if you’re okay with that?” he gently tugs you toward him

“...Yeah. Please.”

this will be the first time he’s missed a practice in years (but he’ll make up for it later in the week)

and right now, his main priority is you. making sure you’re okay and that you can recover peacefully... preferably with an ice cream cone or a cold drink in hand

Iwaizumi:

you and Iwa have shared several classes together over the years and happened to sit next to each other for most of them

so it really isn’t a surprise that y’all have gotten pretty close

he’s actually the reason you became the Seijoh manager in the first place since he’d been complaining to you about how unorganized things were getting on the team without one

unfortunately, being the manager doesn’t just revolve around caring for individual teammates… it also means you have to keep up with their dirty laundry sorry hun

Iwa, since he did drag you into this mess, normally offers to help take the jerseys and clothing  to the laundromat with you

you usually refuse his offer, but for some reason, you let him join you this time around

you and Iwa bring in the first batch of clothing, greeting the laundromat owner, and get everything started

“I’ll head out to the car for the next basket, Iwa!” you tap his shoulder, letting him know where you’re going

“Okay, I’ll be here. Lemme know if you need help.”

he waits a while, but when you don’t return Iwaizumi lets a slight panic set in, hurrying outside to check on you

“Y/n are y-” he stops talking when he notices an absolute sleezebag hitting on you in the parking lot

the stranger is reaching out to grab your arm, but not before a fist collides with the man’s face

Iwaizumi knocks the man to the ground. his fist curl back, fingers digging into his palms, ready to swing at him again

“Get your filthy hands away from her.” he growls out

this sends the creep running, shock setting into your body

and you look over to notice just how tense Iwaizumi’s body is

you gently grasp his wrist with your shaking hands

“You shouldn’t have to come out here by yourself, y/n. I’m coming with you next time.” he says, and you notice a flash of guilt in his eyes as he turns toward you

you just pull him into a hug, releasing your own fear and calming the both of you down

Ushijima:

all of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team is indebted to you

you’ve traveled with them to every single game, you’ve dealt with so many strange players, and above all, you’ve brought them together, completing their team

so it’s no wonder they hang out with you outside of their volleyball obligations, bc fr they all love you so much and you bring them some much needed normalcy

when you suggest heading to the beach for a day trip, they’re all on board. even Ushijima

you and Ushi usually end up sitting together on the way to any practice games or tournaments so you can plan and prepare together

so you both naturally sit next to each other… but it’s super casual and the conversation is actually fun and chill. relaxed Ushijima is such a nice change of pace

when you all arrive, everyone splits separate ways to get changed

but as you leave the changing room, all cute and beach ready, there’s a guy leaning near the door, outside

“Hey sweetheart, you need some help with that?” he smirks pointing at the sunscreen in your hand

“Uh… no thanks.” you say, starting to squirm under his stare

you attempt to walk away, but he just follows you, so you move faster

Ushijima spots you, noticing that your movements are a bit frantic, so he approaches you

as Ushi finally reaches you, the man runs into him and stumbles backward into the sand, Ushjima’s frame blocking him from you entirely

“Y/n, is he bothering you?” his eyebrows furrowing, looking at you with a tinge of concern

“Because… he really shouldn’t be.” A stone-cold glare overtaking his features

“No, I’m just leaving actually.” The man dusts the sand off his legs and walks away, annoyance (and fear) etched onto his face

you turn to the tall, incredibly attractive ace and thank him profusely, apologizing for the situation

“You’re safe with me, y/n. I won’t let anything happen to you.”