#it's endlessly fascinating and i genuinely WANT to see it get better

[fear-is-truth]

Hi i dont know if requests are open or not feel free to ignore this if you are busy!

I was wondering if you could do Evans with an autistic reader? You have the best writing ever and am sure whatever you write will be amazing

I receptly got diagnosed with autism and am starting to get used to it but the hardest part of all haves been finding people who accepts me this way or finding representation and i thought it would be comforting to read your writing about something like this

Have a good days and take care!♡

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans x autistic reader .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ frat!kyle spencer ‧ james patrick march ‧ cult leader!kai anderson ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel ‧ warren lipka

a/n: enjoy, pookie !!

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎���.

tate would rely on how you explain your experiences and base his reactions on that. If you mention sensory sensitivities, he’d attempt to avoid triggers—but sometimes he fucks up.

he would appreciate your bluntness or literal way of speaking. especially when you’re talking about morbid stuff.

if you have hyperfixations or special interests, tate would listen to you super intently, because he loves seeing you passionate about something.

if anyone belittled you or made ignorant comments, tate wouldn’t even hesitate to lash out (verbally or worse) in your defense.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

he would approach your autism with patience and a strong desire to learn how to support you better.

he would genuinely value the way you see the world, often marveling at your unique insights or the connections you make. “i never would’ve thought of it that way. that’s incredible.”

kit would happily adapt to your routines or help you stick to them. if you liked having breakfast at the exact same time every day, he’d join you.

if you ever feel self-conscious about your traits, kit would be the first to remind you that they make you who you are and that he adore every part of you.

he’d be great at recognizing when you’re overwhelmed or anxious.

would fully support your interests, even if they’re niche or kinda obscure.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

kyle would never see your autism as a challenge; instead, he’d see it as part of what made you special. he would be endlessly supportive and sweet.

when you had a meltdown, kyle would stay super calm and be there for you in any way you needed. he’d hold you if you wanted or just sit nearby.

if anyone judged you or made rude comments, he would be the first to defend you.

he’d think your stimming was adorable. he’d play with your fidget toys or pick up new ones when he saw them in stores.

if you struggled with social interactions, kyle would subtly guide you without making you feel embarrassed. later in private, he’d quietly explain someone’s tone if it confused you.

if you were overwhelmed by sensory input, he would guide you to a quiet place or shield you from crowds.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

james is a stickler for his own routines but would seamlessly incorporate yours. if you needed structure, he’d find ways to create schedules that align with both your needs.

he would literally, in his pretentious fake brahms accent, tell you that he finds your mind “simply fascinating.”

being detail-oriented, he would quickly notice if certain stimuli upset you. the perfect lighting, temperature, or ambiance tailored to your liking.

if you liked eating the same thing every day, he’d have mrs evers serve it on the finest china, him saying, “consistency, my dear, is the backbone of sophistication.”

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would scoff at the label, dismissing it as just another way society tries to put people in boxes. he’d say something condescending like, “you’re not autistic; you’re just you. stop letting woke leftists try to define you.”

but deep down, he’d be fascinated by the way your mind works. even though your honesty and blunt nature would annoy him, especially if it challenged his authority or poked holes in his ideas.

if you had a special interest or hyperfixation, kai would find a way to exploit it. he’d definitely rope you into doing something for him.

he would be visibly irritated with any stimming behaviours you had, like rocking or fidgeting. he’d snap at you, “can you stop that? it’s distracting.” over time, he might learn to tolerate it—or not.

during one of your sensory overloads or meltdowns, he’d get visibly frustrated, telling you that, “you need to get your shit together.” but eventually, kai would just leave you alone to work through it.

would intentionally push you into situations that he knows make you uncomfortable, framing it as a way to “toughen you up.”

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.

peter would absolutely adore every aspect of you, including your autism. he’d constantly remind you how fascinating your mind is.

if you had a hyperfixation, peter would dive right into it with you. whether it was a niche video game, a tv show fandom, or collecting random objects, he’d get so into it just to make you happy. he’d joke, “so, when do i get to be the world’s second-best expert on this? after you, of course.”

peter wouldn’t be fazed by your bluntness or honesty—in fact, he’d find it super relatable because he’s just as blunt as you. “finally, someone who just tells it like it is. you’re my kinda person.”

if anyone mocked or misunderstood you, peter would use his superspeed to tie their shoelaces together or give them a wedgie.

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

whatever you were hyperfocused on, colin would be your biggest fan. whether it was a niche topic or a hobby, he’d ask questions and letting you infodump. if it was something like a favorite tv show fandom, he’d take the time to binge every season and try to impress you with his knowledge.

colin would pay attention to the little things that made you comfortable and surprise you with them. for instance if you liked soft fabrics or weighted blankets, he’d go the extra mile to find them for you.

⟢ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐊𝐀.

warren might occasionally fuck up and say the wrong thing, especially if he didn’t fully grasp your sensory needs. but he’d sincerely apologise and try to make it up to you.

he would get a kick out of your bluntness, especially since he’s not exactly a fan of sugarcoating himself.

disclaimer: i did a lil research on autism but i’m still not totally sure if i got it right >.<

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[karmacharmeleon18]

I just went through your AFTG posts and may I ask: what are your feelings about Kevin?

Oooh. Oh. Oh, anon... idk if you're a Kevin Day fan or not, for the sake of things I'll assume you're a completely neutral party so I can tell it how it is without the need to mince words. If this alarms you then perhaps you are a Kevin Day fan and you should stop reading now 😂❤

If you’ve read my posts then you’ve noticed English isn’t my first language, so be prepared for things to make little sense at times😅 I’m trying my best, though, I promise ❤ I’m also autistic and not great at conveying the right tone, especially online, so I’m sorry if I sound mean or rude, it is not directed at you, and I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings in any way ❤ This is SUPER LONG and I’m sorry if it’s not what you were looking for, but once I get going I can’t stop 😅 I’m not joking, this is literally over 20k words of Kevin Day analysis 🙃

In the shortest possible terms, my feelings about Kevin are... complicated.

I liked him as a character in AFTG, I do not like him now.

This might make no sense to you, but I kind of divide the character into two: AFTG Kevin and the New Trilogy Kevin. My feelings differ greatly between the two. Of course I know it’s always the same character, the brainrot hasn’t gotten that bad lol Nora writes him very consistently, and I noticed nothing OOC for him in these new books.

But the amount of info and insights we get about him is what changed between one trilogy and the next, and that is what made all the difference for me.

AFTG Kevin:

In AFTG I found Kevin fascinating.

An Exy prodigy who in the eyes of the public can do no wrong and yet falls from grace, finds himself in a team of misfits, bottom of the barrel, from riches to rags.

A guy so traumatized he can only function if another person devotes his entire life to his safety.

And yet he's endlessly arrogant, bitchy, self-centered and confident. Confident not as a person, but as an athlete, and for him that's the same thing, you know? He exists to play Exy and he's the best at it, and that's all that matters.

Which is why Kevin is so, so good at ignoring his own hypocrisy.

Because he's acing this Exy thing, so who cares if he's not acing this "being a human being outside of the Nest" thing. You get what I'm saying?

He gives everyone around him a hard time for being less than perfect. But he genuinely cannot see his own failings. Because as long as he's the best at Exy, Kevin Day is perfect and there's nothing you can say about him. You better keep your mouth shut and obey.

Kevin takes, and takes and takes from everyone around him and the only thing he's capable of giving back is his Exy expertise, which he doles out to the others with all the subtlety and gentleness of a rock to the teeth. I’d rather be in the passenger seat of the Maserati with a sugar-high Andrew behind the wheel going 100mph for funsies than train for an hour under Kevin Day.

(It doesn’t help that Waymack indulges him, because he doesn’t really care about his Foxes winning, he just wants them to play and find stability in the routine, the discipline it takes to be Exy players; winning is a bonus; to the anon from the other day, if you’re reading this: I agree with you so much that Coach Rhemann and the Trojans would’ve humbled Kevin real quick ❤ but Waymack just isn’t that type of coach, of person; for him the mere fact that the Foxes survive without killing each other is a miracle, hoping for more is just senseless wishful thinking… until Neil)

In the face of danger Kevin hides behind a guy who's 5ft tall and expects him to put his life on the line to protect him. Neil makes Andrew lift his promise to protect him when he knows he’s about to die, because he doesn’t want Andrew to suffer the consequences of a broken promise, and because he doesn’t want him to get involved and be in actual danger. But Kevin clings to Andrew and will always expect and want Andrew to put himself in danger for him. And when things go wrong, he's a defeatist, he sees no point in fighting, he just drinks. But gods forbid if someone around him indulges in junk food, that’s an unforgivable sin and you’re a terrible human being and a waste of oxygen and how can you sleep at night, go run some drills right now to make up for your useless existence, you worthless piece of--

At any other point in time Andrew would never tolerate someone like Kevin. Someone with a victim mentality (rightfully so, don’t get me wrong) and yet at the same time high and mighty and loud about it.

But Andrew is a giver and a taker. He gives promises and takes reasons to live. He’s always been far more desperate than Kevin. Desperate to have a relationship with his brother and cousin, willing to join the Foxes and go to college only on the condition that they be granted the same scholarship. Willing to endure years of horrible abuse to get a mother out of it. Willing to throw that same mother and all those years of enduring in the trash and go to juvie, all to spare a brother he doesn’t even know his same fate. He is depressed. He is apathetic except he isn’t, but no one sees that until Neil. I’ve never seen a character as suicidal and at the same time as desperate to live as Andrew Minyard. As hopeful – without even realizing it - for something better to come. Considering all he’s been through, Andrew should’ve given up on life a long time ago. And yet he keeps enduring, and he keeps searching for reasons to live and offering people deals that bind him to this existence, because deep down he is hopeful. And in this desolate landscape, Kevin Day is the perfect object to dump all of his protective instincts on. And so he gets a reason to live, and something to focus on, still enduring and subconsciously waiting for something, anything to get better.

What saves their relationship (not even a friendship, according to Nora) is that Andrew is completely immune to Kevin’s tantrums and orders. Andrew is in control, always, and Kevin does not have the capacity to challenge him.

(“If you tell him to submit, he will,” Kevin says of Jean, and the irony is in the fact that he’s exactly the same when it comes to Andrew; but luckily for him most of the time Andrew doesn’t care about submission, he only cares about peace and quiet)

The Foxes are the worst thing that could've happened to Kevin. The golden Son of Exy surrounded by misfits, criminals but worst of all: commoners. Peasants. A bunch of kids as far removed from the Ravens - the elite - as can be. And most of them barely have any interest in Exy.

Only Kevin, Andrew, Neil and Matt will go pro (and even then, according to the Extra Content, Matt will always put his family with Dan first, only choosing teams near her and giving a shot at Court but leaving when juggling two teams takes too much time away from her and their kids). Compared to the Ravens, brutal, driven, ambitious, all aiming to go pro and be Court, Kevin is very much living a nightmare during his first year at Palmetto, where on top of the Foxes being his new teammates, his hand is freshly shattered and he thinks he’ll never get to play again.

Kevin ends up with the Foxes out of necessity, they're his last resort, his last hope. And here's where the parallels with Neil really start. Because for him, too, the Foxes are the only chance he has to play.

But where Kevin is hellbent on making everyone around him miserable, because his whole life he’s been convinced that greatness is born from misery, Neil wants to make everyone around him better for the sake of being better.

Better Exy players, but better people, too. Neil understands you can’t have one without the other. But Kevin is so single-mindedly focused on Exy that he doesn’t care about the people, he only cares about the athletes.

Neil is resigned to the fact that he’s going to die, and he wants to see the Foxes get better for themselves, so that after his death, they can keep playing, keep winning, keep having fun, keep doing the game justice.

But Kevin wants the Foxes to get better for him. Because he is Kevin Day and he deserves a good team.

And that’s why, no matter how hard he tries, he ends up failing over and over again. It’s only when Neil joins the team that things get better, it’s through his meddling, the way he humanizes the Monsters in the eyes of the others and bridges the gap between the two groups, the way he gets Andrew and Aaron to begrudgingly “reconcile” under Bee’s guidance, the way he gets Andrew to care, care about Neil, and himself, and Exy, that the Foxes finally become what Kevin always wanted. Sort of.

Leave it to him and he will always resort to insults and Raven drills and hierarchy and he’s the Queen of Exy and you’re just a worthless peasant compared to him and--… you get it. The Foxes are definitely not at the level he wants them to be. Which is why Kevin is happy when the Trojans win the championship over them (in the Extra Content, which is ever-changing at the moment, so this isn’t canon). The Trojans deserve it. The Foxes do not. If there’s one thing I can say about Kevin Day, is that he is objective when it comes to the game (not when it comes to himself as a person lol).

Kevin’s relationship with Jeremy is fascinating to me (again, not a friendship according to Nora). In my opinion Jeremy represents all that Kevin wants to be. A golden child of Exy who joined an average team and made it the best there is (outside of the Ravens) without the brutality, the abuse, the misery of the Nest. Jeremy made the Trojans great, not a damn red or even yellow card in 4 years of playing a sport as violent as hockey, at a collegiate level. He’s never won a championship until now, but Kevin understands why and forgives Jeremy for it. Because Jeremy will always chose sportsmanship over victory, so of course they can’t win the whole thing. Because in a contact sport brute force and cheap shots will always prevail (if slick and perfected enough). But that’s a line Jeremy will never cross, and despite himself, Kevin admires him for it.

Another interesting relationship is the one between him and Thea. In AFTG and the Extra Content, Thea is a Raven™, a Riko apologist through and through, the type of person to tell Kevin to just get over his trauma and think of the game. On one hand, she’s the worst possible person for Kevin to be with. On the other hand, she’s the only person Kevin can be with.

I know most of the fandom hates Thea, but tbh I never cared about her, she’s pretty much a non-character to me and I don’t care who Kevin ends up with. But I acknowledge that being with someone like Thea means that Kevin will most likely never heal.

Here’s where my opinion differs the most from the general opinion the fandom shares: I think Thea is a victim too.

She too was in a cult. She too spent years in a brutal team were sex was a commodity. She is a woman, a woman of color at that. Her life wasn’t easy. She suffered as much as any Raven, as much as Kevin, or possibly even more, bar the hand.

But the thing about Thea is that she doesn’t see herself as a victim. The way all ex Ravens who graduated before Riko’s death don’t see themselves as victims.

They see themselves as the best, not despite the Nest, but because of it.

And until Riko shattered his hand, Kevin was the exact same.

He grew up in a cult, but he was never injured, never sexually abused, and in general, both him and Riko saw themselves as being above having sex with fellow Ravens. Thea was the only exception for Kevin because she was the best backliner and above all, she didn’t beg, she didn’t try to seduce Kevin to get a number on the perfect Court. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t care less about Kevin, he had to pursue her, and she only accepted to have sex with him because he was attractive and sex is a good way to let out steam, that’s the way things are in the Nest.

People are disgusted by the age difference (4 years iirc) and the fact that Kevin met Thea when she was a college Freshman and he was in high school. But although he was immediately attracted to her, she felt nothing for him. She probably saw him as a besotted puppy following her around, the same way she saw Jean (though I doubt they interacted all that much, she was living under the brutal regime of the Nest, she didn’t have the time or inclination to notice a boy drooling over her). Their “relationship” only started once Kevin was in the Nest, he was 18, and he was the one to pursue her. And she accepted his advances because, again, that’s the way of the Nest.

Their affection for one another comes much later, and will only concretize once they’re both out of the Nest, most likely only when they’re both on the same pro team and actually living their life together (from what I gathered from the Extra Content).

I know that a 4 year age gap feels like a big power imbalance in college, but lets be objective: in the Nest Kevin is the one who has power over Thea.

Jean and Neil were property, the Ravens (Thea) were assets, but Kevin was Riko’s brother.

We know how little brotherhood means in the world of the Moriyamas, but the point is: Kevin never saw himself as a victim. And he never saw the Ravens as victims either. When someone was being abused, he turned his head and ignored it, he didn’t intervene, he didn’t really care because it’s all for the game.

To this day, I don’t know if Kevin considers himself a victim of the Nest. A victim of Riko, sure, because of the shattered hand that almost ended his career. But had that not happened, Kevin would’ve kept training and playing with the Ravens, happily ignoring the abuse around him.

Because here are no victims in the Nest, only great players, and he’s better than all of them.

The only exception is Jean. Jean is property, he is treated as an object, as an animal. For the first time in his life Kevin has to acknowledge just how fucked up the Master and Riko are. He turns his head and ignores the abuse, he doesn’t intervene. But for the first time it takes something out of him. It weighs on him. Cracks start forming.

But he still asks Jean to teach him French, despite knowing full well what the consequences would be for Jean. And he still leaves Jean to die under Riko’s wrath. The cracks finally shatter along with his hand and he abandons Jean to be tortured to death.

So, in AFTG, I found Kevin insufferable but compelling. He is such a good character, and the whole story revolves around him (don’t tell him tho his ego is inflated enough as it is lol). He's Riko's brother, the traumatized prodigal son knocking on Waymack's door with a broken hand, he's the one that chooses Neil and sets the plot for the whole saga into motion. I never liked him as an individual, but I did like him as a character (as all the Foxes, and tbh I think that's exactly the point of the story: they are not good people, but they are compelling characters). Kevin had all the traits of a good character, all the complexities, the contradictions.

But in this new trilogy, I simply can't stand him lol the less I see of him, the better.

New Trilogy Kevin

I honestly don’t want to talk too much about this version of Kevin. That’s how little I like him. New Trilogy Kevin and Thea go hand in hand in my eyes.

They’re still victims of a fucked up system, they’re still doomed to suffer the consequences of their upbringing for the rest of their lives, not only in terms of being victims of abuse (Thea less so, because she’ll never see herself as a victim, meanwhile Kevin sees himself as Riko’s victim, but I still don’t know if he sees himself as a victim of the Nest in general), but in terms of social impairment.

Nora said Kevin doesn’t have friends. Not even Neil and Andrew (or Jeremy, they only text like three times a year, before Jean) count as friends right now, it will take years, when they are all pro and in the national team together. And maybe after he retires he’ll be able to make some acquaintances or even friends at the park or something and be a proper functioning adult. But for now Thea is the closest thing to a friend/companion Kevin has, simply because they share the same type of obsession with Exy.

Neil and Jean are obsessed as well, but it’s not the same type of obsession, and Nora said that Kevin’s betrayal has forever destroyed any chances of becoming friends with Jean. They are acquaintances, and at the moment Jean would like to see Kevin dead, especially when Kevin calls him “brother” after he left him to be tortured to death, especially when Kevin is such a hypocrite, telling Jean to get his life together while at the same time being a barely functioning alcoholic himself.

The Nest fucked Thea and Kevin up. They are both victims, and I still see them as such in this new trilogy.

But for the first time I’ve realized just how little Thea (&allRavens) cares about the abuse that happened in the Nest.

She saw a sixteen year old boy be passed around like a sex doll and she holds it against him, she blames him for the beating that almost killed him because he might have been “up to his old tricks” that he knows the Master doesn’t tolerate so seriously Jean, what were you expecting, what the fuck were you thinking, mh?, she considers him a slut, like all the Ravens do, when he was just a child and he was raped over and over again and was beaten black and blue and forced to play with broken bones and she knew, she knew, and all of them knew and still they blame Jean and think he deserved it and they tell him so.

And for the first time I truly, 100% realized that if Riko had not shattered his hand, Kevin would’ve become a Raven apologist with his whole being, just like Thea, just like all the other Ravens.

Kevin constantly pulls rank with Jean, he constantly acts like he knows better, like he’s owed everything he wants from the people around him. And the worst part is that the people around him bow to him. The narrative indulges him. Constantly. Kevin Day is perfect and if you don’t agree you are the problem.

Kevin likes having power over people. He likes that Jean “doesn’t know” how to fight back with him (or with anyone, in his opinion).

He thinks that’s the natural order of things: he is Kevin Day, the Son of Exy, the Queen of the Court, and you must obey his every order.

For the first time, I truly see the similarities between Kevin and Riko. What Kevin could have become, had he stayed in the Nest. And I don’t like what I see.

Someone please humble that bitch, I’m begging. I need Kevin Day to be humbled or at the very least to shut the hell up. I need the narrative to put him in his place. Instead he keeps getting what he wants, and public praise, he plasters on his camera-ready smile and persona and suddenly all he has done to Jean doesn’t matter (not only in the narrative, this applies to the fandom too, maybe even more so).

So if after AFTG I was like: Kevin and Thea deserve each other because they understand each other like no one else can, eventually they’ll realize they were both victims and find comfort in each other ☹️

now I’m like: Kevin and Thea deserve each other because they’re the exact same type of terrible person 🤢 and even if they realize they were abused, they will still think they are better, worth more than the other victims, because they are Thea and Kevin and if you don’t like it, you are wrong.

And if you are Jean Moreau, sold and shipped off at 14, raped from the age of 16, betrayed by the only man you ever trusted and left by him to die, shamed and blamed by the woman you looked up to, and you don’t forgive and forget, you are wrong.

At the end of the day, Kevin Day is the only one who matters. The Queen is the most important piece. Everyone else is a pawn, and is expendable.

And let me say, the way the fandom portrays Kevin doesn’t help. They water down his character so much. He’s a poor little meow meow that never did anything wrong in his life and everyone would give their life for him and Jean will 100% cheat on Jeremy to be with him and he is the best person to ever exist and the whole universe must bow down to him and Thea better stay away that Raven bitch 🔪

When Nora said that any relationship Kevin is in will have to account for his narcissism. When she’s made very clear that Kevin is a coward and a hypocrite and a traitorous bastard and a bitch that thinks his left pinky is worth more than all the Foxes combined and that will sacrifice anyone to stay safe.

Fandom took all the traits that make Kevin Day Kevin Day and watered them down, made them disappear, created a new, third version of him that doesn’t exist in any book of either trilogy.

Meanwhile Nora took those same traits and exasperated them in the New Trilogy, to the point that I don’t enjoy reading of and about Kevin anymore. I honestly want him gone from Jean’s life.

Jean can never heal if Kevin is around.

And it’s concerning that 90% of the fandom doesn’t care.

In my opinion KevJean shippers only care about Kevin.

😔

I want to reiterate that I don't think Kevin changed in this new trilogy. He's always the same Kevin. Nora is a consistent writer.

But the amount and type of information surrounding him has changed, and shown me a new side of Kevin that I do not like. This is Kevin Day with the sliders set to the max, and honestly? I've had enough of him. I don't want to see him again unless it's to properly apologize to Jean. And we all know that will never happen 🤷🏾‍♀️

Kevin and accountability are strangers.

I’m done, I promise. I hope this was a satisfactory answer, anon. Send me a little message or something if you’ve made it this far ❤

[llamagoddessofficial]

I have a question related to the prison au. Sorry if this has been asked before but what if Mc didn’t com in as a nurse but rather a therapist. Like the jail’s first therapist and it was all mc’s idea because Mc thinks that if the prisoners have more of am emotional outlet they won’t be as aggressive to one another and will become better people/monsters after they get out. And Mc wants to make a difference for them because Mc knows that their jail life isn’t the best. Mc can tell sans is trying to manipulate them, and isn’t affected much by reds attempts to charm her as much, and Mc can see threw skill’s scary and can understand him more and teaches him how to communicate how he is feeling better.

Oooooo...

Sans: Unlike pretty much all her other counterparts, this Mc is onto Sans' shit from the very start. Originally assigned to him as a mere formality, she immediately clocks that this motherfucker is much scarier than anyone has noticed before. His 'therapy sessions' are more like mental chess matches between two very perceptive people. Her aim is to genuinely try to treat him, genuinely try to get to the bottom of why he's turned into this terrifying mastermind, and perhaps even help him; there's not much else she can do. No one will believe her. Sans knows that, too.

Sans loves it. At last- someone who really, actually understands him, and the monster (not Monster) he's become. Not someone from his past lingering endlessly on who he used to be, not another pawn buying his 'harmless' persona. He loves having someone who is finally, finally in on his game. He was already fascinated with her from the start, this just makes it so much more intense- he loves being able to drop the mask. He loves the challenge of having to find ways to manipulate that are outside of his usual routes. He loves her, she's all he lives for.

She wants to help him? Cute. He'll show her what the world is really like. Then they can be puppetmasters together.

Red: She's assigned to Red to 'help' with his constant violent outbursts, after he gets in a particularly brutal fight and has to choose between attending therapy or lengthening his sentence. He's not the first violent offender she's dealt with, and he's definitely not the first flirtatious patient... but he's definitely the first that seems so utterly determined to charm her. She's firm on not breaching her ethics and she won't allow herself to do anything more than just get along well with him.

Mc actually makes a big impact on his mental health. The instinct to open up to her is a hard one to ignore, given his affection for her and their great rapport, and Red just likes her more and more with every issue she helps him work through. He doesn't like that she absolutely refuses to be with him, and he sees it as more of a challenge than anything.

When he gets out, he'll make sure she knows he's still very interested in some private sessions...

Skull: Giving Skull a therapist kinda feels like putting a band-aid on a completely severed torso. But it was a legal requirement. He cycles through therapists who either immediately refuse to treat him, or get a few days in and THEN refuse to treat him. Mc is just another in a long line of therapists that the prison expects to see rolling in.

... Except... he's so good for her. He tries to talk, he's calm and never bites, he's highly engaged with the tasks she gets him to do with her, he quickly notices that the better he does the more they make her spend time with him. The less violent he is, the more she talks to him in that lovely soft voice. Anything for more of her voice.

... Issues arise when Mc starts to understand that Skull has developed feelings for her. Deep feelings. He's always trying to kiss, nuzzle or hold her- it feels unethical to keep treating him. But it's also a well established fact that her presence in his life has probably saved several lives. If she tried to tell the prison that she didn't want to treat Skull anymore, she'd probably get a response along the lines of "we don't care, just keep him from eating anyone's hands".

She's not really got much of a choice.

[reijisteacup]

Hello, first I want you to know that your posts are pure masterpieces keep going! 💫 Can you write the reaction of the Diaboys finding their significant other's childhood album with plenty of photos of them younger? ( English isn't my native language sorry)

Aweeeee this is soo cuteee and your English is perfect <33

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Sakamaki's

Shu Sakamaki:

At first, Shu wouldn't seem interested. He'd lazily glance over as you flipped the album open. But once he caught a glimpse of your chubby cheeks and shy smile as a toddler, something in him softened. He’d quietly scoot closer, resting his chin on your shoulder to get a better look. "Heh... You were already cute back then. It's unfair." Shu would point at your most embarrassing photo (probably something with food all over your face) and smirk lazily, but his voice would be low and warm. He treasures seeing this vulnerable, innocent version of you—it makes him feel more connected to your humanity.

Reiji Sakamaki:

Reiji would be intrigued and polite at first, but the more he looked, the more emotionally invested he’d become. He’d carefully turn the pages with gloved hands, noting every detail—your clothes, posture, even the way your eyes lit up. "You were raised well... these are very well-preserved. May I organize this for archival purposes?" You’d notice he’s scanning everything with genuine care. If he sees a picture where you're crying, he might tense. He doesn't like seeing you in distress—even in the past. It awakens a rare protectiveness in him.

Laito Sakamaki:

"Nfu~ What’s this, Little Bitch? Some kind of secret treasure~?" Laito would love finding your childhood album. He’d coo and tease you endlessly, tracing your baby face with his finger. "You were already charming... even back then. Did you seduce everyone around you too~?" But beneath the flirtiness, he’s genuinely fascinated. Your photos let him imagine a world where you were untouched by pain—a time before darkness entered your life. It captivates him more than he'd ever say aloud.

Kanato Sakamaki:

Kanato would stare at the album in silence at first, unmoving. His violet eyes would scan each picture with eerie intensity. "You looked… happy. I wonder why." He might seem jealous—of your normal childhood, of any smiles that weren’t meant for him. But then, he finds a picture where you’re holding a teddy bear and his demeanor shifts. "I want to see you like this again. Smile like that... for me." He’d probably ask to keep a picture (or even steal one), hiding it inside his doll's dress or his drawer.

Ayato Sakamaki:

"OIII, CHICHINASHI! IS THAT YOU?! BWAHAHA!" Ayato would burst into laughter the second he sees baby pictures of you. He’d immediately start teasing you—especially if there’s a bath photo or one with food smeared on your face. But if you really watch him, you’ll catch a subtle softness in his eyes. He keeps staring at one photo longer than the others—maybe one where you’re hugging a plush toy or holding a parent’s hand. "...You were kinda adorable, y'know." He’d never admit it, but seeing your childhood awakens a possessive instinct—he wants to protect that innocent part of you forever.

Subaru Sakamaki:

He’d be flustered the second he realizes what he’s looking at. "W-Wha?! Are these… you? As a kid?" Subaru would blush deeply, awkwardly flipping the pages. But the longer he looks, the quieter he becomes. He’s drawn to your bright smiles, the innocence in your eyes—something he never had. "Tch… You looked so happy. I’m… glad you had that." He’d never tell you, but seeing your childhood photos gives him hope. It reminds him that despite the darkness around him, someone like you could grow up to smile like that.

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

"Livestock, is this… a glimpse into your origin?" Ruki would examine the photos like pieces of a historical puzzle. He’d be oddly gentle, turning pages with almost scholarly care. But his expression would shift when he sees a picture of you crying or looking lonely. "Even then, you carried sadness in your eyes... did no one notice?" Despite his cold words, he feels deeply. He sees these pictures as proof of your journey—one he wants to protect from now on.

Kou Mukami:

"Ehhh~? So this is what my darling looked like before they became mine~" Kou would act playful and dramatic, narrating your album like it’s a soap opera. But his voice would tremble slightly when he sees you in a hospital bed or looking lonely. "...You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?" He might secretly keep a copy of one picture—perhaps a smile that reminds him of why he fell for you. "You’ve always shined. It’s no wonder I couldn’t take my eyes off you." Kou treasures anything that proves your strength, especially if it contrasts the darkness of his own past.

Yuma Mukami:

"Hah?! No way that’s you! Look at that tiny gremlin face!" Yuma would bust out laughing, ruffling your hair and holding the album up like a trophy. But don’t let the jokes fool you—he’s absolutely smitten. "Damn, Sow… you were a real cutie. Still are." He’d especially love any farm or garden pictures—anything where you’re muddy or smiling under the sun. That natural innocence speaks to his soul. He might even start planting a flower you liked as a kid in his garden.

Azusa Mukami:

Azusa would hold the album like it’s made of glass. "Ah… this… is you… when you were little…?” He’d stare at the pictures for a long time, gently brushing the page with his fingertip like he's afraid to hurt it. "You… were soft… and small… like me…" Azusa might quietly start crying—not out of sadness, but because he sees your younger self as something precious and untouched by pain. "I… wish I could have… been there… to hold your hand." He’d likely ask if you still have any of the toys in the photos—he wants to sleep with them beside you.

Tsukinami's

Carla Tsukinami:

"Hmph. How… quaint." Carla would initially act disinterested—old photos of humans mean nothing to him. But once he sees your expression in one of them—genuine joy, curiosity—he falls silent. "You looked… untouched by darkness. That light... it suited you." He won’t admit it, but he’s moved. He may even tuck one photo into a book or journal, a quiet reminder of your fleeting mortality and the innocence he wants to preserve.

Shin Tsukinami:

"Pfft! Wait, that’s you? You look like a squishy dumpling!" Shin would laugh and tease you endlessly, pointing at every chubby-cheeked photo with glee. But after the jokes fade, he’d grow quiet. "...You had it kinda easy, huh? No monsters. No nightmares." There’s envy in his voice, but also admiration. He’d start asking questions—where the photos were taken, who’s in them—trying to piece together your past like a detective. "You were soft back then. But I like the version that survived it all even more." He wants to protect what’s left of that innocence—even if he claims not to care.

[aga-dash]

Something that I find endlessly fascinating is how Viktor despise being from Zaun and showing some care for it isn't part of the Zaun community.

Looking at his arc he was shown as an outsider both in Zaun and in Piltover with the second being the most obvious. When it comes to Zaun however we learn that he was not close with others when we got to see a bit of his childhood where Singed literally points it out.

With that in mind it's interesting to see that in season 1 Viktor's story is the furthest removed from Piltover and Zaun conflict, at least in comparison to all the other core characters. I'm pretty sure we don't see him advocating for Zaun by himself and we also can point out the fact that all of the inventions the boys of progress presented were worked focused rather then being anything that would add to quality of life for the undercity. Even the the placement the hexgate was ignoring the fact that it was next to Zaun water supply and their ventilation system, something that one would expect Viktor to know.

In season 2 things doesn't really get that much better because while he does go to Zaun and starts healing people there he doesn't really do anything about the problems connected to Piltover's oppression over Zaunites, rather he created an artificial paradise. Even the personality of people he was "healing" as well as their identity were gone and replaced as they became part of the hivemind.

There is something ultimately tragic about Viktor genuinely caring and wanting good for Zaun but never choosing solutions that would actually change the life of the Undercity for the better.

[dyingroses]

The Owling Chapter 24: Child of Sea and Sky

Athena fluttered over from across the courtyard stopping to pick up a feather before resuming her run. Hair ribbons streaming behind her.

"Guess what?" Athena said bouncing on her heels and grinning.

"What?" Hera replied, genuinely having no idea what new thing had delighted and fascinated the little girl. There was something so ethereal about the way Athena saw the world. Making connections Hera never thought of. Like the other day when she took Athena to the Plitvic lakes Athena stated that life is round, "things that live and grow are round whereas things that don't grow - like mountains and rocks - are straight." Hera was grateful that Athena could still find such wonder in the world even after everything that happened to her.

"Aunty Demi, helped me make 10 different flower crowns to send to Pallas," Athena said.

"She's a quite a dedicated little craftswoman," Demeter said affectionately.

Pallas had given Athena her crown of coral and Athena had been determined to find something equally fascinating and beautiful to repay her with.

Hera felt pathetic. The Goddess of motherhood and women not able to abate her own pregnancy symptoms. Rhea said it was probably because the baby's own power was so strong. Hera didn't know how Metis had dealt with the later stages of pregnancy on her own. She would always be endlessly grateful to her for having birthed and raised the wonderful little girl that was Athena. At least I'll have two children for the price of one pregnancy, Hera thought as she wiped the bile from her lips. It's so sad that they'll never see each other again, Hera thought and began to cry. Whether it was because her hormones were making her very emotional or the loss Athena had faces was incredibly sad, Hera felt her tears becoming uncontrollable.

"Hera?" Athena asked in a small voice.

Hera picked Athena up and buried her face in her daughter's hair, breathing in the sweet smell of woodsorrel.

"Why are you sad?" Athena asked.

"I'm not, baby girl," Hera lied, as she gave Athena a kiss on the forehead, "Just the pregnancy is making me teary."

Athena hugged Hera's neck and after a moment said, "If you're sad tell me . . . . so we can cuddle."

"Thank you, sweet one. And we can cuddle whenever you want," Hera replied, trying not cry more. Her hormones were not helping her handle her Athena's adorableness.

"Dadddddyyyyyy!" Athena shouted from across the courtyard. Zeus had been waiting for a break from work and he couldn't have asked for a better one. Fate was smiling down on him today. And even better his daughter was smiling up at him.

Zeus picked up his daughter tossing her in the air and spinning her around before planting a kiss on the forehead.

"Look, I summoned my wings all by myself!" Athena declared, beaming brightly and wiggling with excitement.

One of the many things Athena was learning was how to use her divine powers and that included summoning her wings. She had a pair of beautiful pair of wings with feathers of silver, gold, and purple. Zeus tried to ignore their owlish pattern as he gently removed bits of down from them, she's still just a baby, Zeus thought as Athena flapped her wings in excitement. It would be hard to keep a child of the skies on the ground. He often told Athena that he wouldn't let anything hurt her. At least . . . not anymore. But as the flapping of her wings gained strength and he had had to hold hold her tighter to prevent her from flying away, he new he was gonna have to prepare her for when he wasn't there.

"You've done well, daughter," Zeus said, "But you must be careful. You're wings are still new."

She's still new, Zeus thought.

"I don't want you trying to fly unsupervised yet," Zeus continued, "For now let me get you used to the sensations of flying he said summoning his own wings.

Athena truly was a child of the sky. She loved the sensation of wind blowing with or against her, "the funny but good feeling in her tummy" when they made a sharp dive, and and being able to move in any direction.

"Flying is kinda like swimming, in that way" Athena told her father after the training flight.

A child of the sea and sky, Zeus thought bittersweetly.

"Wow, of all the birds you got the one that can't handle water, Zeus said, "What did you do to piss off the water gods now."

"I'll have you know there are other birds that are not resistant to water. The Frigatebird, doves, and some parrots and hawks are also not water resistant. I thought the future god of the skies would know that," Metis replied.

"I just thought a daughter of the seas would be able to handle getting wet."

"What threatens to waterlog an owl is the rain, idiot, not the sea. When was the last time you saw an owl around the ocean."

"Exactly. No owls around the ocean. What did you do to get on the ocean's nerves."

"How would I know?" Metis replied now dangerously calm.

"Another thing the genius doesn't know. They're really adding -

" - Afterall, you're the undisputed king of getting on people's nerves," Metis said, turning to leave.

In a move that surprised both of them Zeus grabbed her hand and flashed her a devious but annoyingly charming grin, "Yeah, and which nerve of yours do I get on."

[beevean]

I'm here to vent to someone because I can't find nfcv-saltmine, but yeah why do some people have to be like this. They completely shit on the source material of the adaptation they watch.

Richter in Castlevania has plenty of depth, he literally had an identity crisis in SotN and acknowledged that he can't be trusted with the vampire killer anymore so he entrusted it to someone else. He showed massive amounts of maturity and humility but wasn't a push over

They deleted their blog. I know them, and they said they just didn't like being too negative and how people used their askbox as a way to bitch about fans. I understand, the fans should be left outside of the discussion.

Now, I have no intention of simply pointing at OP in the screenshot and going "lol look at this idiot". So, if you expect me to do so, I ask you to not share screenshots. But I understand your frustration, not just because "show great games poopoo" which is the bread and butter of r/castlevania, but because the dissonance at work here is fascinating. "I hate when people insult show Richter! They don't understand Richter as a character at all! They clearly didn't play the games! Which were so badly written and thankfully fixed by the show! Stupid purists!"

N!Richter is not Richter. The two have different themes. Richter struggled with the knowledge that, after killing Dracula at 18, his life became essentially meaningless, and because of this, Shaft was able to turn him into a puppet to resurrect Dracula, which filled him with so much shame that the Vampire Killer was passed onto another family for centuries. N!Richter is currently battling both with the grief for his mother and the fear that the Belmonts as a whole aren't needed anymore - and the Belmonts have no legacy in the show, let alone a Dracula-killing one, so there's no way they could properly recreate his corruption arc... which, in fact, is going to N!Maria, apparently. I am still baffled that game fans are still waiting for the show to suddenly snap back into game canon and give us a proper SoTN adaptation, or god forbid an AoS one. it reminds me so much of those poor saps who were sure that N!Hector would have become a gigachad in S4 so that they could finally get the long-awaited CoD adaptation. yeah, about that. I know it would be better if the two factions weren't so neatly separated and at war with each other, but as far as I'm concerned, the show itself decided to drift further and further away from the games to the point where now they just can't be the same story.

I have come to accept that many game fans, especially the older ones, simply don't care about their story. They enjoy the gameplay and think the Belmonts are cool, but reduce every game to "jumping on platforms and whipping candles and killing Dracula over and over". Only on Tumblr I've seen this intense dedication for nearly every character, even the most neglected ones: here people do like analyzing the writing and spreading the word that it's more complex than it lets on! But on the other side, as I keep saying, discussion about Nocturne in particular has been uniquely poisoned due to genuinely bigoted dudebros who don't even bother to hide that they hate N!Annette because she's black or N!Richter because "he's a pussy" (same with N!Hector, after all, who to this day is victim blamed for being stupid). So when this person snarks about the triggered purists, I know which type they're talking about.

Criticizing the shows is one thing, but when it comes to the fandoms, I admit I'm rather burned out. I see the same thing with Sonic, people endlessly shitting on the games because they like the comics or movies more for their "improvements", and it becomes a litany of "this adaptation i like is good because the source sucks lolololololol". What else can I say about it? There's no point in sharing screenshots to point at someone and laugh, unless there's a bigger argument to be made like I tried to make here. So I want to be clear on this. Don't use me as a megaphone just to bitch about specific people, please.

[officialpenisenvy]

gio your blog is the only place online that makes me feel more normal as a victim of csa, genuinely. Just saw a TikTok that said “life gets so much better once you desexualise your mind and go back to a childlike state of being” and as a hypersexual person that made me feel like SHIT bro. Like I’m sorry my childlike state was quite sexual. I couldn’t help it. It’s like those people see children as little angels instead of people. what does desexualising your mind even entail??? It’s just hard to recover from sa and see sex more positively in a world that sees it either as evil or as essential for happiness and love. Whenever it makes me feel hopeless I always come back here to your blog and it reminds me there’s people that understand.

oh my godddd that tiktok sounds so stupid. like even IF childhood were this unsexed innocent and chaste state of being why would you want to return to it you can literally just be a celibate adult without needing to lobotomize yourself from any notion of sex. but it's fr so crazy that adults seem to forget the sexuality that was present in their childhood, people are so uncomfortable and scared of children's perceived innocence being tainted that they will literally deny their own lived experience — in my case, even aside from the csa i was quite sexually minded as a child, the limited understanding i had of it endlessly fascinated me and i wanted to recreate it, which is how i ended up in some sticky and dangerous situations in the first place.

i absolutely understand your struggles with your sexuality, i empathize with you so much! having a healthy relationship with sex is hard even for "normal" and non-traumatized adults, let alone people whose early understanding of sex was shaped by violation of whatever kind it may be. we live in a society that is incredibly sexually conflicted, one that sees it as the end-all be-all of love and intimacy and yet is horrified to even acknowledge the less palatable parts of it — nevermind that to have a healthy and fulfilling approach to sex one must take those less palatable parts into consideration and demystify them, dismantling taboos and treating these topics with the respect and transparency they deserve is the first step towards building a healthier relationship to sex.

i can't possibly overstate how much it means to hear that my blog helps you feel better, im so so glad that this little community ive built is able to give you hope and solidarity! i really wish you all the best in your healing journey, and i know that no matter how long it may take one day sex will be good again for you and for all of us who may struggle with it. ❤️❤️❤️

[ipostdumbthings]

Moonlit Dinner Date

Pairing: Gale/Tav

Characters: Gale, Tav, Astarion, Karlach

Rating: G

Genre: Romantic Fluff

Summary: Gale returns to camp one evening to discover a wild magic mishap from sorcerer Tav. Pre-relationship.

It was still fairly early in the evening when Gale found himself strolling back into camp, clean for the first time in days. Camp had been made late in the afternoon, they’d stopped near a river and a turn order was quickly established to get everyone in camp a turn to a small but blissful amount of privacy, and freedom from the muck and sweat. He was still toweling off his hair when he stepped foot in camp proper,only to find himself almost bumping directly into a certain pale companion of the vampiric persuasion. The look on the elf’s face made it clear that he’d been waiting for Gale for a while now, a look that said “you’re wasting my time”. The wizard didn’t love how often he saw it.

“Here’s something I never thought I’d say, but thank the gods you’re here Gale we need your help.” It might have been a jab at him, but Astarion wasn’t wielding his particularly cruel tone of voice, did Gale actually detect something genuine there? He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off immediately, not by the man before him, but by the bleating of a sheep. Of course. He didn’t need to look, but he did anyway, sidestepping the elf to join the camp proper. Not too far from the fire was a sheep, a rope tied loosely to its neck to keep it from wandering off. Affectionately petting and tending to it was Karlach, who looked all the more excited to see Gale.

“Tav?” He asked, already so certain of the answer, but received further confirmation when he spotted the bowl of water someone had laid beside the sheep with the name “Tav '' hastily painted on the side, no doubt Karlach’s work. It could be hard to believe that a woman of so much heat could have such a soft heart.

“Yes, she got a little bold with her spell casting I’m afraid,” Astarion replied, a certain quirk to the corner of his mouth indicating just how funny he found all this. It had endlessly fascinated Gale just how well Tav could get along with everyone here, and how someone with so much kindness and concern for others could find genuine affection and camaraderie with someone like Astarion. He was certain for the elf’s part, the friendship had mostly been a great source of amusement, provided he was well outside the blast radius when something went wrong. But Tav had disagreed with Gale during one of their chats about that, well not entirely, she knew Astarion found it funny when her magic went awry, but she was positive there was a genuine connection of trust and friendship between them. That was getting off track though, there was very much a situation he was faced with, one that was frankly frustrating, and should’ve been avoided based on his and her previous conversations. He heaved a sigh so deep he felt it in his soul.

“I specifically asked her not to cast her magic in camp for this reason. Could’ve been a fireball that sent all the tents up in flames,” he said, adopting a chastising tone as he addressed the sheep more than the two people. Sorcerer’s and wizards rarely saw eye to eye under the best of circumstances, given their different philosophies, their different experiences with magic. Sorcerers took magic for granted, and the one type of sorcerer you didn’t want with that sort of flippant attitude was one of wild magic, and yet Tav seemed blissfully unconcerned by the chaos she was capable of wreaking. He’d hope she’d learn something from this, but he knew better.

“Oh, no, that’s not what we need help with,” Astarion said, his genuine delight only seeming to swell.

“When you say it like that Astarion, it makes me feel like we’ve been arseholes,” Karlach said sounding like a guilty child. She even wore a pout. 

“She’s got grass, we put down a clean water bowl for her, her precious sheepish heart yearns for nothing. Frankly I wish people tended to my needs the way we’ve been keeping her for the better part of the half hour.” The elf sounded defensive, but not in a way that indicated he felt bad in the slightest for anything that was happening. Gale pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a certain weariness he imagined his mother must have felt when she was dealing with his youthful magical indiscretions.

“If it’s not about Tav the sheep, then what exactly did you need?” The question was quick, clipped, and demanded an answer.

“Well, it’s not not about Tav and her adorable little hooves.” The way Karlach emphasized the last three words was further hammered home by her taking Tav’s sheep face in her hands and cooing at her.

“It’s a bet,” Astarion said, and could not suppress a grin as he spoke, “we were wondering if, someone were to… shear her, you know, shave off all the wool, while she’s a sheep…” 

“Would she pop back to being a human bald or naked? And what would happen to the wool when she turned back? Would that be her hair? Her clothes? Or would it stay wool?” Karlach finished the question, redirecting her gaze back to Gale with genuine curiosity. He blinked at the absurdity of the question, at the knowledge that they had been patiently waiting for him for half an hour just to ask. Karlach didn’t surprise him as much, but he would’ve assumed Astarion for the sort to get to the bottom of the matter himself.

“Ah. Well, I can't say I’ve ever tried it. Honestly I’m impressed at the restraint you’ve shown in not simply attempting it yourself.” He’d said it as a joke, but the look on Karlach’s face had the deep sigh renewed.

“We thought about it, but I’m too pretty for such a menial task, Karlach is too afraid of hurting her, and Halsin gave us a very stern ‘no’ and that same disapproving look you seem to be wearing right now.” Well, at least someone in the camp could be trusted to behave like an adult. He held Astarion’s gaze for several moments, making sure he fully expressed said disappointment, before finally looking back at the popular subject of the evening, Tav. He should still be irritated, but he had to admit the question was an interesting one, and far be it from him to not indulge the curiosity of others in regards to magic. Even if he didn’t exactly have an answer.

“Ignoring the ethical implications of you two attempting to shave one of your friends while they’re completely indisposed, hypothetically-“ he was cut off when the sheep made eye contact with him, and he felt the sudden, intense connection brought on by the tadpoles locked in their brains. For just a moment it didn’t make sense, just sheep sounds and flashes of the grass on the ground at the camp, but then he felt it: the disappointment. The sheep held his gaze, drifting to thoughts of the clearing nearby, the one with bright green grass.

“Wait. What just happened?” The words from Karlach pulled him from the moment, and his bewildered stare must have made it obvious.

“Did she just use the tadpole on you?” Astarion sounded positively delighted, the airy laugh erupting from him. Gale glared.

“Oh was it Tav-Tav, or Sheep-Tav? Why didn’t she do it to me? I was just staring into her little face?” Karlach asked with a mix of absolute whimsy and disappointment. She gently rested her hands under Tav’s face to coax the sheep to look at her again.

“Don’t take it personally, Karlach, she’s not really Tav right now, she’s well and truly a sheep,and you two were wrong about her wanting for nothing, she wants better grass.” With that he crossed the space to his tent and returned everything he’d taken for his bath, then snatched up a book. There was no telling how long it would take for Tav to become human again, and she’d been very clear about what she wanted. He could sit with her for a while as she indulged in sheepish pleasures.

“Shit are we being bad sheep guardians?” Karlach asked with a groan, she did start untying the rope from the stake in the ground, which she handed over to Gale when he approached.

“Do you mean shepherds?” Astarion asked, but Gale was very much through with the tom-foolery of the evening. Taking the rope in hand, he gave Tav the gentlest of tugs to get her moving.

“I’m going to take her to a clearing nearby, if she’s going to return to humanity with the taste of grass in her mouth it might as well be good grass.” Tav may have frustrated him at times to no end, but there was no denying that he respected her. Valued her, even. She was competent at decision making under catastrophic circumstances, unwaveringly compassionate to those in need, and a damn fine friend to anyone that allowed her to be. There were times that his fondness for her only increased his frustration about her casual disposition to her brand of chaos. He wanted her to care enough to take care of herself, to be careful. But he supposed, at least for the time being, she had him to do the worrying for her. Seemed a few others were up to the task too.

“Don’t forget her water bowl, Gale, I put her name on it and everything, you know, for next time it happens.” Karlach almost spilled the water bowl in her haste to hand it over, genuinely concerned he may leave it behind. The wizard took the bowl with a small bow of his head, yes even when he wasn’t around to watch after her, Tav was usually in good hands.

“I’m certain she’ll be touched by the kind gesture. Now come along, Tav.” With that, he gave another gentle tug on the rope, and sheep Tav seemed to know exactly what to do, which he supposed made sense, she had requested this.

—

He did have to give her credit for good timing, though, it was a lovely night. Stars twinkling above, the moon brilliantly lighting their little clearing. The air was cool, but not cold. A nice gentle breeze carried the sounds of the night time wildlife beginning their evening. Perfect night to sit with a book and enjoy the world for all its splendor.Even the company was pleasant, now satisfied with the grass she had available Tav was content to silently wander and munch nearby. He’d take breaks from the page to glance up at her to make sure she was fine, and frankly marvel at how he managed to enjoy her presence even as a sheep.

The two had shared many late night evening talks, mostly about the sort of things one expects a wizard and a sorcerer to discuss. Magic and its nature, mysteries of the universe, that sort of thing. They talked about other things, and he was constantly amazed by how much he enjoyed those chats just as much as he enjoyed the ones on his favorite subjects. Even in these trying times she approached life with enthusiasm, with passion and joy. Not to say she wasn’t aware of the impending doom that loomed above them, she’d let slip her air of exuberant confidence a few times to reveal just how deeply afraid she was. He’d realized then that she was attempting to shoulder all the worries of the team, that she’d been determined to be the source of comfort and hope when they couldn’t be one to themselves. He didn’t envy her. He did want to help her though. Which was yet another reason he was sitting out here with her.

It was a wonderful, quiet hour that past, and sheep Tav had settled in the grass and was deep into a snore when the magic dispelled. One moment a sheep snoozed happily, the next there was Tav. She sat up quickly, facing away from Gale. She twisted her head back and forth before rising to her feet. When she finally spotted Gale she broke into a big grin. A big, beautiful grin. She looked relieved to see him, happy to see him. He blinked back at her, and felt something stir in his chest that felt suspiciously like his heart fluttering. He hoped it was dark enough that she’d miss the faint tingle of redness on his cheeks he felt forming. A moment passed before he realized he was staring at her, and he quickly cleared his throat to break the silence.

“You should know, your dear friends seriously debated shearing you in pursuit of scientific curiosity,” he said, he’d intended his tone to be more chastising, after all he had asked her not to cast in camp for a reason. But his heart wasn’t in that, not at the moment, not with her looking at him like he was her safety, her comfort. It came out as the gentle, affectionate tease it truly was. Of course he knew he’d been fond of her already, but that look on her face under starlit skies was forcing him towards some rather hasty and unexpected realizations about just how fond of her he was.

“Oh to see if I turn out bald or naked?” She asked with an easy laugh, as she took a seat on the ground directly beside him. The urge to put an arm around her was one of the hardest he’s ever had to suppress. He settled for tilting his head to the side as he peered at her, watching the expression of good humor form on her face. He was finding he liked that one quite a bit too.

“A question you seem to have pondered quite a bit yourself,” he remarked.

“Well I’ve spent more than my fair share of time as a sheep. Always wondered why it was a sheep. Honestly, the universe probably knows I’d be too powerful as a cat.” She was looking directly into his eyes as she spoke, and he found himself even more acutely aware of how close they were and how intimate this moment between them was. The idea of her as a cat, however, was enough to get a laugh from him. Surely she’d be the sort to knock everything over, to break all your favorite things, and just when you were sure it was time to get rid of her, cuddle up on your lap and make you love her all over again.

“With your predisposition for chaos? I suspect you may be right.” He loved the way that made her laugh, the way her nose crinkled as her whole face lit up. She gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder, and he made a mental note to ensure an abundant future of that. She finished laughing and for a brief moment she sat and peered up at the stars before she looked back to the grass she’d been eating not ago.

“Awfully nice of you, though, to bring me out to this lovely patch of Baldurian Bluegrass.” She looked thankful. He blinked at her, and then looked at the grass, and then back at her.

“… You know what type of grass this is?” He must have sounded incredulous from her next little laugh. Tav was not much of an expert on the great outdoors, she’d never successfully identified an animal track, knew absolutely no potion ingredients, and seemed to be allergic to most things they came in contact with. She smiled a knowing smile and shrugged her shoulders.

“When I realized that I would be spending a decent amount of time as a sheep, I started growing little patches of grass at home, and had some brought in from all sorts of places. I figured, you know, spoil myself.” It was his turn to laugh, he shouldn’t have been surprised in the first place. That was exactly the sort of thing Tav did. 

“Ah yes, exotic grasses from across the globe. Truly a feast fit for a sheep of your caliber.” He teased, and felt that flicker in his heart when her eyes were back to him.

“But the one I always eat the most is the boring one, Baldurian Bluegrass.But do you realize what that means?” She asks leaning just enough that it felt like they were conspiring about something together.

“I can’t even imagine what’s about to come out of your mouth.” It wasn’t the first time that had happened, and he knew with such certainty that it would far from be the last. It excited him in a way that he hadn’t expected it to.

“You just took me out for a nice moonlit dinner with my favorite food. If you keep this up, Gale, I’m going to think you’re into me.” It was a joke, he was certain. Wasn’t he certain? He could almost be bold enough to lean over and kiss her, to wrap that arm around her and hold her. To spend the evening like this teasing and talking together. Almost.

“We should get back to camp, Karlach will be both relieved and disappointed by your reversion,” he said and cursed himself for being a coward. Tav took pity on him it seemed, leaned in and kissed his cheek, and he felt his heart absolutely pound in his chest. She rose to her feet quickly thereafter and offered her hand to him to help him up, which he gratefully accepted.

“Thank you, Gale, for taking care of me,” and there was that smile again, but it didn’t linger for long, and she was quickly starting the short walk back to camp. He didn’t let her get too far ahead though.

“It was a privilege and an honor, my lady.” He did stop to pick up her water bowl though, with her luck it would be helpful soon enough.

[hyukascampfire]

hello ashlynn! i, 🌰, have very impressive procrastination skills and one of them involves finishing a 300-page book in record time. so it’s the wicked king time baby‼️ (SPOILER ALERT this time because too many things went down in this book.)

first of all, your favourite character turned out to be a traitor ??? there probably are other things i could begin with, but i genuinely didn’t expect that. i have yet to understand why the ghost believes balekin could help him fulfill his duties towards dain better than cardan and jude when balekin not only threatened dain while he was alive but also quite literally murdered him 💀 also, justice for heather— i know that deep down vivi means well but holly black does a good job at portraying how different the faerie psyche differs from the mortal one, thus making a romantic relationship between the two extremely difficult. ultimately, it’s clear that one of the two has a greater price to pay and it’s often the mortal who does so. it’s like how madoc and eva’s relationship ended in tragedy and watching vivi and heather’s relationship evolve (and deteriorate) in real time makes jude realise that this could be her future if she allows herself to love cardan. oh and, speaking of cardan… i have seen what that tail can do. not exactly my thing but i do see the vision lol i’d kind of started warming up to him but what the fuck was that ending ?? all that for fucking BALEKIN whom everyone hates ??? and i swear everyone collectively hated valerian so much that no one batted an eyelash when he died at the hands of mortal jude although he literally was a regent kid of faerie. i won’t start questioning cardan’s whims because he’s technically a medieval king and medieval kings are just Like That™, but my guess is that he’s exiling jude not to punish her but because he believes it’s the best way to protect her…? especially now that there’s chaos with the undersea and lord roiben’s court of termites (or has that storyline been solved already?) also, the isle of ash he just casually created at the end? 💀 ok edge lord

either way, i love how the author shows that dain’s geas on jude is not only a boon but also a bane— it’s part of human nature to seek beautiful lies and escapism in the face of suffering, and the fey clearly know it’s something they can exploit. but i find that there’s a little more comfort in knowing what is being done to you rather than learning about it in retrospect. and taryn……. yeah. on one hand, i don’t want to be a hypocrite. jude manipulates and deceives for the sake of her own interests, so there’s no reason why taryn can’t indulge in those dangerous games as well. however, i am THE reader so ofc i’m rooting for the fmc !!! get out of the way taryn !! it’s so fascinating to see how jude comes to resemble madoc more and more as the story progresses. the mixture of pride and contempt one for the other. you’re so right about how interesting how their dynamics are. and the whole “you can be happy and successful but not happier and more successful than i am” thing madoc and taryn have with jude. it’s so real. you can love your family endlessly and still envy them for receiving the affection you never got and realising the dreams you never did.

wow, this might actually be the longest ask i’ve ever sent ( > < ) i totally understand if you need time to reply (it’s also ok if you type a short answer lol i won’t be mad about that!) i’m so glad you recommended this series, i’m loving it ♡ looking forward to reading the queen of nothing after i’ve turned in my last assignment of the year AAAAA

remember to take frequent breaks and to stay hydrated. keep warm! love u!

p.s. idk about the people but i sure as hell yearn for beomgyu.

IM SO EXCITED AHHH okay

yes my fav character is absolutely the ghost 😭😭 from day one. i was so hurt when this happened. yk who my least fav is tho?? BALEKIN. i hate that fugly rat. i annotated some of the first book and the first thing i wrote for him was ew cause i hate him. a lot.

and YES holly black was so amazing throughout out the whole series about highlighting the difference of the human mind and the faerie mind. as much as vivi wants to live and belong in the human world, she doesn’t get it all the way. and heather, poor heather (i love her) has to put up with it.

i have seen what that tail can do 💀💀 the ending of this book had me absolutely gobsmacked but OH MY GOD you’ve gotta see what it turns into in the next part. also cardan edge lord LMAOO he rlly is just like that™️

and taryn… she does scheme in her own way. as opposed to jude’s path to fitting into elfhame by burning her own path, taryn took one of the two beaten paths. i understand why she did. but also… she just annoys me with the way she speaks i think 😭 i have a sister so ofc i know it is so true to life, but like you said, man i just root for jude >.<

my favorite scene in the whole series comes up in the next book and just know that i am going to gush to you about it when you’ve read it 🫡 GOD i love that scene. so much. hehe

i’m wishing you so much good luck on your last assignment, and thank you so much for the big message, love!! i love talking to you about stuff 🙂‍↕️

thank you and i absolutely will ♡

(i also yearn for beomgyu still it seems that the people yearn for taehyun hehe)

[scoobydoodean]

Just wanted to send a random positive ask to say you literally make my day better and I really love what you bring to the fandom (as you might have noticed by me liking everything you post after 0.5 secs if the notifications alert you lol). Also I love that you describe yourself as genuine in your bio, that’s the vibe I get from you 100% and it’s so nice to see, even in the few things in which we diverge or I just haven’t considered. Lastly, may I ask (and it’s a bit of a tall order) how you became so interested/invested/knowledgeable in media analysis? I find it such a fascinating skill to have.

This is very sweet. Thank you <3

As to your question—I've never really thought about it before! I don't have any formal education in any of this tbqh. I was an avid reader in my childhood and performed well in English classes through college, and I was involved in public speaking and debate from middle school upward, so there are some communication skills I started to develop pretty early with that, but my field of study is not related to literature. I started talking to other people about a piece of media I really liked on reddit when I was about 19 (that'd be 10 years ago now), and I think because the fandom for that piece of media was on the whole just extremely eager to discuss the story in great depth and explore the characters and themes and symbolism, I was able to work on explaining myself and forming my thoughts about stories I like within a fandom that was very small and encouraging and very positive about the story we were all invested in and the fact that it was a something worth analyzing in great detail. By reading the thoughts of other people who had interesting things to say or who challenged my perceptions and wanted to have conversations about what we agreed and disagreed on and why, I think I probably was able to learn a lot.

There are very few pieces of media I've become even remotely as interested in as Supernatural though, and I have definitely noticed that when I really like something, I tend to get extremely invested in rewatching/rereading it and trying to pick up new things to analyze just because I enjoy it, and there's something about Supernatural in that regard that is just endlessly appealing to me.

[helloarchivist]

>.>

Shanks and/or Kid.

Quin my lovely friend! :"D Thank you so much! Let's do both~ :3c

Shanks

How I feel about this character:

I genuinely love him, like. I think he's fascinating from a narrative standpoint, the place that he has to stand kind of straddling the gulf between the old era that birthed him and the new era he's been charged with stewarding in, like. He's tragic in my mind, because from a character standpoint he has everything - looks, intelligence, potential, power, influence - and yet he either loses or has to let go of everything he really loves, and wants to keep around.

I love that he plays really loosey goosey like his job is Beach and he's a silly funny guy, but can get awfully serious at the drop of a hat, I love the way he carries himself and the very careful vocal cadence he holds onto. Fascinating 2 me.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Oh goodness, you see the problem with hims I feel him to be THE king slut of all time, so I can be persuaded about like. a TON of pairings for him lmfao. The ones I usually default to are the same ones everyone does, Buggy and Mihawk, altho due to the way Shanks is and the advent of the Cross Guild I've had some funny forays into Shanks trying to seduce Crocodile lmfao. (and like. Me. lmfao <3)

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Luffy, Benn, Ace, the whole RHP crew tbh. It's odd bc I usually subscribe to the "all vice captains are insane about their captains" thing but I just haven't ever gotten that with Shanks and Benn lmfao.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Weirdly, it seems to be an unpopular opinion that he's a good guy, so probably that? I can't think of anything else I think about him that's especially against the grain.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

I just want him to live through this lmfao. There are several people in this that I love and am very worried about it, and he's one of them. I'd love for him to be able to reconcile with Buggy too, because so much of what's kept them apart for the last two decades has been misunderstanding of a difficult situation that happened when they were teenagers during a really traumatic event. I know that's not usually how things work in this story, but ya know.

**

Alrighty :"D Round 2

Kid

How I feel about this character:

I find him endlessly endlessly endearing to be perfectly honest. Setting aside the fact that I'm so attracted to him it regularly makes me act very silly, like. He's so smart! He's loyal to a fault! His crew adores him, he sticks to his convictions (for better or worse), he will tell you what's on his mind and deal with you honestly, and expects that of the people around him. Even when he acts all gruff about it, you can tell when someone has earned his respect.

He takes responsibility for the people in his care, he's incredibly brave and charismatic, and goddamn does he ever commit to his aesthetic, and the bit. I love him is the tl;dr. It's so funny bc I made it like 5 jokes into dunking on him about Law in Sabaody before I realized I'd backed myself into a corner about him bc like. Personally imo 2 me, if you think about him with any kind of seriousness, I think it's hard not to love him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Oh man. Killer obv top spot, but I've also gotten really attached to the big Kid Pirates Polycule bc of your thoughts on that subject. I like the KidLawLu polycule too, altho that's more for fun play in my mind. Fascinatingly I think he'd have gotten on like gangbusters with Ace, though I'm as inclined to make that platonic as romantic lmfao, either way. (Also, again...me. I love him lmfao.)

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

In a more serious way probably this is where Kid and Law and Luffy fall in my mind. I love their dynamic and how goofy they all fucking act about it lmfao.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

That he's really fucking smart. He's an excellent tactician when he wants to be, he's a mechanical engineer, like. Those prosthetics aren't just a bunch of junk mashed together that he's forcing to move, they have artificial articulating musculature, they have functional hydraulics, they WORK. Hell, Damned Punk is a plasma canon that you can SEE has actual refined mechanical pieces to it that he's able to pull together without even looking.

Also not for nothing but figuring out magnetic polarity and then getting that shit to behave itself in reasonable ways so that you can use it reliably in battle requires intelligence and serious skill.

His wisdom stat is a lil low but my boy's fucking brilliant.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

I get it. I GET why Oda [redacted current arc spoilers] for both him and Law. All I'm saying is he better fucking live through it. Him and his crew. I wanna see them again. :(

**

Alrighty!!! This was wonderful friend ; u ; Thank you for askin about my boys, I love any chance I can get to ramble about em. <3

if anyone else wants to play, give me a character and I'll break their ass down!

[reijisteacup]

NSFW warning hehe…. The boys reactions to their girl being a squirter 👀

you freaky anon ;)) (lowkey was waiting for this ask) LOL

==================================================================================================

Sakamaki's

Shu Sakamaki:

At first, he’s too lazy to react dramatically, but the second it happens? Oh. His eyes snap open, and a low, genuine chuckle escapes. “Heh… Did I make you that wet, huh?” He might’ve seemed disengaged, but now he’s got a hand on your throat, and he’s watching every spasm of your body like it’s the most entertaining thing he’s ever seen. He’ll keep going—just to see if he can make you do it again. And again. And again.

Reiji Sakamaki:

A squirter? How utterly uncivilized—is what he wants to say, but the moment he feels the gush, sees your face twist in pleasure and the sheets dampen beneath you? His jaw tightens and his thrusts become brutal. “You dare lose control like this… what a mess you’ve made.” But behind that stern tone is pure hunger. He’ll clean you up meticulously… with his tongue, that is. Don’t think for a second he’s not into it—he just wants to dominate it.

Laito Sakamaki:

Oh he lives for this. The moment he feels you clench and sees the liquid squirt out, he moans like a porn star. “Aah~ Bitch-chan~ You’re just like one of my favorite toys, aren’t you?” He laps it up like he’s addicted, fingers you until you do it again, then again, cooing praise between every gush. “Ne~ do you like being watched while you soak my sheets like that?” He’ll tie you up and make you squirt as a punishment and a reward.

Kanato Sakamaki:

Kanato freezes. Eyes wide, breathing heavy, and then… "You’re disgusting... But... do it again." He acts repulsed, but you can tell by how rough his hands get and how fast his hips move that he’s obsessed. He calls you a filthy little doll, makes you apologize, but he won’t stop until you soak the sheets. Then he forces you to lie in the mess—wrapped in his arms—cooing, “You’re mine… you even mark the bed like a pet~”

Ayato Sakamaki:

“Wha—?! Chichinashi!!” His eyes go wide the first time it happens, but that shock quickly turns into a cocky grin. “Tch, I knew I was the best.” He’ll slap your thighs and keep going, even harder, wanting to see it again just to stroke his ego. “You’re gonna make a mess on my sheets? Fine. Then you better make a big one.” He brags about it later. Loudly. To the point of making you blush in public.

Subaru Sakamaki:

“...W-What the fuck—?!” He jerks back in total panic the first time, red-faced and shocked. But once he sees you trembling, breathless, vulnerable beneath him… he swallows hard and slowly eases back in. “D-Don’t do shit like that without warning… I thought I broke you…” He pretends to hate it, but deep down it makes him feel powerful—and later? He quietly asks if you can do it again. Just once. Maybe twice. Ok, he’s addicted.

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

Ruki’s control is his pride—every touch, every thrust is calculated. So when you squirt unexpectedly during sex, soaking the sheets and gasping with helpless pleasure, he stills inside you in stunned silence. His eyes narrow, not with anger, but dark fascination. “So… this is how your body reacts to me?” He wipes his soaked fingers across your inner thighs, then licks them clean with decadent slowness. The sight flips a switch—Ruki turns it into a lesson, pushing you further just to see how many times he can make you do it. He sees it not as messy, but as proof of your surrender—something he owns.

Kou Mukami:

Kou’s first reaction is wide-eyed, almost comedic shock—then wicked delight. His ego swells as he watches you tremble and soak the bed, the mess only encouraging him. “Aah~ did I really make you feel that good, M Neko-chan~?” He’d giggle and lick a trail up your belly, not caring how drenched he gets. Kou loves anything erotic, anything “beautifully obscene,” and he sees squirting as a spotlight moment. He’ll tease you endlessly, maybe even film it (with consent, of course), and try different techniques to trigger it again. Every single time.

Yuma Mukami:

Yuma freezes mid-thrust when it happens, eyes going wide. For a second, you swear he forgot how to breathe. Then—he grins. A wide, crooked, devilish grin. “Tch… damn babe, ya makin’ a fuckin’ mess—hell yeah.” It awakens something carnal in him. He’ll growl and go harder, one hand pinning your hips while the other rubs you until he draws it out again. Yuma is all about raw, primal reactions, and he sees squirting as the ultimate turn-on. The way your body loses control? That’s what drives him feral.

Azusa Mukami:

Azusa is stunned—then completely obsessed. At first, he pauses, worried he hurt you because you cried out so suddenly and your thighs trembled violently. But once you reassure him, his eyes go glossy with wonder. “…You… made water… like that…? It’s… so pretty…” He’ll lean down to kiss you through it, lovingly murmuring how beautiful you look when you let go like that. Azusa will become hyperfocused on what triggers that reaction—he wants to learn it, master it, and do it again and again, not for power, but for intimacy. He sees it as sacred—something only he can draw from you.

Tsukinami's

Carla Tsukinami:

At first, he raises a brow—he’s not used to being surprised. But the moment he registers what happened, something darkly amused crosses his face. “So… even your body betrays your composure that easily under my touch.” He’ll tease you with velvety degradation, kissing the trembling parts of your thighs and praising your body's surrender in hushed, godlike tones. Carla finds it intoxicating—a proof of your weakness under him. He’ll test your limits, whispering in your ear how he’ll train your body to squirt on command.

Shin Tsukinami:

Shin’s jaw drops and his pupils blow wide when you squirt during sex—he wasn’t expecting that, and for a second, he’s frozen with disbelief. “Tch—wh-what the hell…? You just… seriously?” But after the shock? He loves it. Not in a tender way—Shin finds it hot, wild, and chaotic, just like he likes it. He’ll push your legs open and smirk down at the mess, proud like a wolf who just claimed his mate. He’ll taunt you about it, but secretly he’s so into it that it becomes a new obsession. He’ll start trying to make you do it even during oral, watching intently for that exact moment.

[silkendandelion]

Mirage In The Desert - Chapter 4 (One Year Ago, Pt. 2)

Summary: Having left the island what he believes to be permanently, River travels to Rainbase with Miss All Sunday. Mr. 0 reveals himself, and a contract is made.

Rated Teen and Up Audiences for unsafe situations, extortion, gambling. Ongoing, will cover the Alabasta Arc. Cross-posted to Ao3, same username. Send me a DM: yell at me, send flowers. Cheers.

~*~

“Are you thirsty?” The woman, “Miss All Sunday”, handed him a canteen.

“Thank you, I hadn’t realized how dry this country is.”

“Does it rain on Oasis?” She seemed genuinely curious as she rested her chin on her palm.

“Oh yes, all the time. I guess I assumed you all saw the same rain. Maybe we’ll see some before we get to the capital.”

“It’s been two years since it rained. And you still think we’re going to Alubarna.”

Any protests he had went unaddressed. The most he knew about their journey and destination was this indirect, vague comment that only barely confirmed it was not the capital. More time together didn’t help as the mysterious woman managed to keep him talking endlessly about the tiny island he had left behind with nothing but her beck and call. His one valiant attempt to be standoffish yielded a single, perfect smile and the promise that she could be quiet as long as he could.

It would end up going on for days as the endless desert passed by the window.

“You were telling me about the Bananawani.”

His cheeks colored at her smile, this one somewhat warmer, like he was interesting. “It’s rude to only talk about myself. You could tell me where we’re going. Or just a hint? You had me buy nice clothes, that’s one, you—you said ‘days’ so we’re not leaving the island. Maybe it’s—”

Her laugh was melodious, reminding him just how little power he had, and how sweet his death would be if she killed him in this moment. They must look like friends on a weekend away, not a doomed man and his reaper.

“Talking will help you relax.”

“You’re a sadistic woman. You want me caught off guard when you kill me.”

“You think I’m going to kill you.”

“Stop being so ominous! Don’t laugh either!” He felt his shoulders fall anyway, doomed to find his reaper effortlessly charming.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.”

That can’t be right. Beautiful woman, sharp as a tack. There’s no reason she couldn’t find better company than a terrified merchant who, for once, was poorly managing all the attention he attracted. Maybe she really was a killer.

“The, um...” He cleared his throat. “We’re not friends with the Bananawani, we just coexist. There’s a sort of sand bar just south of us, maybe it’s an island that never grew enough to break the surface. Females lay their eggs there in the beginning of summer and just before autumn they return to take the ones who’ve hatched. We take the eggs that don’t make it, but otherwise try to stay away from each other. Except Ramon, he is fascinated with them. He’s so obsessed that when he was younger he would swim out to the deep and try to ride them. We all think he’s a little crazy, but he’s still a good man. Very good—”

“We’re here.”

He froze, and his heart nearly slipped from his chest into the road. They had talked so long he had forgotten to look out the window, and obviously lost days to her easy conversation. There were trees in the distance, how long had it been since he saw anything but sand?

“This is what I expected the rest of the country to look like.” He tried to exit the carriage but a petite hand stopped him.

“I’ll tell the driver to wait. Change your clothes and I’ll be right here.”

“I’m not going to keep doing this. You give me orders but I’ve seen nothing for my compliance thus far.”

“One more time, Mr. Faustina. The man who will answer your questions doesn’t see anyone who isn’t dressed appropriately.”

He wanted to flee, slip out the second door and follow the sun back to the shore. But Miss All Sunday was in no hurry, no worry for his escape when she was sure that the desert would kill him even more efficiently than she could. Then again, they weren’t likely to retaliate if they thought him dead. A knock on the door startled him back into his body.

‘If you hurry, we can get lunch before our appointment.’

He squeezed the box containing his clothes, perhaps the last clothes he’ll ever wear. But the endless desert and his slow, painful demise could wait just a little longer.

One more time, Miss All Sunday. ____ ___ __ _

“Enjoy your day, ma’am. Sir.” The driver dismissed them as they were left in front of their destination.

River opened his mouth to speak but Miss All Sunday apparently moonlights as a mind-reader. “The city is Rainbase. And this is their casino: Raindinners.”

“A… casino?” He had never seen one, recognizing the word from a novel or two.

Certainly the biggest and tallest building in the city was the luxury resort and casino that sat perched atop the surface of it’s own lake. It looked to be made of gold, tossing back sunlight and brightening the sky. River looked to Miss All Sunday but she had her head on swivel, perhaps she wasn’t used to being in a crowd. And despite Claudia’s attempt to teach him manners, he stared openly at the expensive clientele that not only disappeared into the casino but walked by them, in and out of sparkling shops. He noticed they were staring back at him.

“Come, Mr. Faustina.” She beckoned.

“Welcome back, ma’am. And guest.” The staff greeted them, parting the doors open wide.

From gaudy socialites to the whispering wealth and tacky tourists that peppered the room, he felt eyes on him from every corner, drinking in his drapes of Oasin blue and gold. Face shielded by a veil, he felt more akin to a ritual sacrifice than any expected guest.

He heard Miss All Sunday’s voice beside him as they walked. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not.” His voice was firm but he counted his steps to quell his heartbeat, one foot in front of the other as the golden lights parted for the thrum of conversation on the casino floor. People laughed as they drank and games clattering added to the buzz of the chatter. River could hear their whispering even over the noise, the hissing of snakes and bureaucrats. Suddenly the attention he attracted easily was no longer a luxurious coat but a funeral gown, tight on his throat. If given the chance, these strangers would try to write his epithet without even knowing his name. And they didn’t care to know.

‘Is that the Oasin? I’ve never met one.’

‘How pretty.’

‘I’d heard Crocodile was getting a new business partner.’

“Crocodile? That name sounds familiar.” He murmured, more to himself than his handler.

“Does it?” She led him to an elevator, tapping a passcode to take them to the top floor. ____ ___ __ _

In his office, Crocodile looked up to the familiar clack of his partner’s shoes on a polished floor. “Welcome back.”

“Shall I send him in?”

“You’re late. I’ve been waiting.” Smoke fell from his lips and clouded the air between them.

“Oh? The appointment was for 4—“

“3:30—”

“Apologies.” She said as courteous as ever, but River saw her come back to the parlor where he waited with a satisfied, unrepentant smile. He was brought to stand in front of a large desk where an unapproachable man sat back in his chair, a fur over his shoulders and alarmingly golden weapon laid across his lap. He was taller than River remembered, suddenly recalling the face of Alabasta’s hero. Intelligent, dangerous, and apparently more deceitful than he advertised.

“You’re Crocodile.”

“Manners dictate you begin with your own name. And that you remove your face covering, it’s just the three of us.”

River yanked back his scarf, violet eyes much less than welcoming. “You know my name already, and I know you. I’ve seen you at the market, they called you a war, something—warlord. A pirate. I’m done being led around like some calf to slaughter, you’re going to tell me what’s happening—”

“For someone who’s never left his little island, you yap like a spoiled prince.”

“I won’t ask again—” River’s threat was cut short when the man dissolved in a swirl of sand to re-materialize in his space, hook pressed beneath his chin. River grabbed his forearm, the patch of flesh solid as he stood his ground, albeit shaking as he stared up into the face of yet another unknown threat.

“Threats beget violence, Mr. Faustina. This is your only allowance.”

He remembered Ramon’s voice when he first encountered an adult Bananawani in the sea. Don’t meet their eyes unless you’re prepared to fight and die. Unless you’re like me.

His hands gripped Crocodile’s arm hard enough to make the buttons creak and the warlord’s lip twitch, the only indication that River had managed to cause pain.

“I was tricked into coming here, traveling for days, taken from my home and my family with nothing but the clothes on my back. I think I’m owed much more than an explanation, Crocodile. Let’s talk business.”

Golden eyes gave way to mischief, practically lapping at the fire that radiated from this new variable. He had never expected to find a Haki user this close to the Red Line, let alone one that snapped and sparked in the face of overwhelming disadvantage. Too valuable to kill, too dangerous to leave free. And though Crocodile wasn’t one to waste time on self reflection or even idle pleasure, he was excruciatingly aware how long it had been since he felt electricity from just meeting eyes. Crystalline, expressive eyes that haven’t learned to lie, brave because they had never been defeated, too naive to know they needed a mask. What a treat.

He released the smaller man with a startling bark of a laugh, putting several steps between them. “Miss All Sunday.”

“Sir?”

“Leave us. We’re going to talk for awhile.”

“Sir.” The pleased smirk she wore as she left was all the reassurance River needed to know he might not die today after all. ____ ___ __ _

Their negotiations had lasted hours, through dinner, and solidified by a strong handshake among men. Crocodile’s skin prickled where he remembered River’s grip.

One year. You are to work for my organization for one year, as both penance for your assault and supervision for someone with your dangerous talents. We’re on the verge of civil war, you see, such power cannot be affiliated with either side. Either the war ends, or your time runs out. That is how long you will work for me.

His beautiful reaper had shown him to his room, a crisp little dwelling, draped in white and with his own bathroom. He went to his window, too high and too smooth to climb from, as he expected. There was water in a pitcher for washing, fresh linens in the cupboard. But little else. He opened all the drawers and cupboards for something to read, pencil and paper maybe. Nothing.

No one stopped him from wandering the halls, but there was little staff to do so until he entered the lower floors. The elevator was unguarded but several floors were inaccessible without a code, and a few staff-only floors immediately booted him back the moment he left the lift. No doorknob was left untouched in his search, though it seemed security was good at their job.

“Excuse me?” He asked but the passing housekeeper seemed to not hear him, engrossed in her journey.

He tried a suit that carried a briefcase, but no answer. “Excuse me, I just—”

A couple in matching furs smiled at him when he got to the ground floor. “Do you know how to get the private club rooms? You look like you know where you’re going.”

His face couldn’t hide his discomfort, but the pair looked undeterred. “… I’m afraid it’s my first time.”

“No worries, dear. You’ll have a great time.” They waved goodbye to him with their gloved hands, resuming their search down another hallway.

He finally came to the kitchen, spying a den-den mushi sleeping on top of a steel cabinet beside their prep line.

“HEY! What are you doing? Get out of here.” One of the chefs barked at him and snatched the snail from his hand.

“I need to make a call.”

“So find another phone. Go on, shoo.”

River refused to leave the door, feeling his eyes begin to prickle. “I need to use the phone. It’s an emergency… Please, I’ll pay you.”

“How much is a phone call worth to you?” He watched River take off his gold earrings, each fitted with a wild caught pearl.

“Pretty. Make it quick, the boss might call.”

“Thank you.” River took the snail and struggled to recall the code before hearing it putter at last, dialing across the country.

On his island, Esai was helping Claudia with the chores River had left behind, her household now down to one. His snail phone puttered, unanswered, until River couldn’t let it ring anymore.

“They didn’t answer, huh?” The chef said.

“...No. Suppose they wouldn’t.”

“Shame. I’ll take those earrings now.” He held out his wide palm.

“What? It didn’t even connect, no one was home.”

“You wanted to use the phone. No one HAD to answer.”

River felt a familiar itch in his chest, one that wanted to punch the chef as hard as he had hit the man at the market, right in his smirking face. Would Crocodile feed him in this place? Would this be the kitchen where his meals came from? How would the staff get even worse towards him if he abused the chef on his first day?

He reached up to take his other earring off, setting the pair in the man’s hand as he held them up to the painfully white kitchen lights.

“Really nice, I’ve never seen pearls this color. If you’ve got any others, Oasin, I’ll let you use the phone as much as you want.” He burst out laughing, pleased with himself as he pocketed the jewelry, and continued to stir whatever was in his pan. ____ ___ __ _

Crocodile isn’t a man to waste time and called for River first thing the next morning, immediately handing over legal documentation that River only held before signing as he was instructed. His tired eyes wandered the pages, half absorbing the half of the documents he bothered to touch while Crocodile smoked patiently, writing on his own work while the Oasin pretended to read.

Refreshments were brought to their meeting, and Crocodile took the break to take in the ignored cup of tea on River’s side of the table, the way his full, blue-black brow was furrowed and violet eyes were red with lack of sleep. He could smell him even over the coffee, like sea salt and perfume oils that were baked into his skin and hair by the sun, permeating any room he entered. His hair was streaked from long hours outside but he clearly cared for his dewy skin, and even when he didn’t speak Crocodile wanted to just look at him. But something was different.

“You forgot to put on your earrings this morning. Did you sleep poorly?”

River looked up from his papers after a long moment. “I didn’t forget. Phone calls are expensive around here.”

“Someone took your jewelry for a phone call?”

“I didn’t even get an answer.” He massaged his temples, his hand dragging down his face as he leaned back in the chair.

Crocodile stubbed out his cigar, breathing a long, fragrant cloud into the silence. Neither of them spoke before he leaned forward to write a note on his papers. “That’s enough for today. Rest up, your first mission brief is going out tomorrow.”

River got up without protest, intent on leaving in silence until Crocodile spoke to his back.

“Compile a list of things you need. Bring it to me before the end of the day and I’ll have Miss All Sunday bring them to you.”

He looked back at the warlord, his first smile of the day on his face. “Thank you, Crocodile. That’s kind of you.”

A jeweled hand waved him off, though River couldn’t bring himself to be offended as he began his list in his head, starting with pens and paper. Books would be third, though he assumed specific titles would be hard to come by on short notice, settling for “poetry”, “geography”, and “whatever Miss All Sunday likes”.

Sleep came easy with the promise of better things and he slept until the next day, awaking to the polite knock of his delivery.

“You look like you slept well.” Robin smiled and he reflexively touched his tousled hair. “I found everything on your list, you’ll have to forgive me for how much of it is books.”

“These are wonderful, Miss All Sunday, thank you.” He examined volumes of various size, some he had read, most he hadn’t. Her delicate hand suddenly offered a small velvet box, tied with a ribbon, and she relinquished it reluctantly as if accepting the gift was binding, and delivering it made her an accomplice.

“This wasn’t on your list but Crocodile sent it anyway.”

A single tug to the ribbon let it flutter to the floor, revealing his surrendered earrings, polished and pinned to a cushion. “I… Thank you. Thank you so much. And please give Crocodile my thanks.”

“All right. Have a good day, Mr. Faustina.” ____ ___ __ _

His mission brief promised the meeting of his new partner, Mr. 2, whose almost blank section of his instructions left them as mysterious as Miss All Sunday. They would leave in the morning for reconnaissance in a nearby sea, and were expected to meet resistance: deadly force approved. The anticipation of combat reminded him his swords were on Oasis, left behind with no time or method to retrieve them. No money either, having been suddenly thrust into a free market economy. But he was in a casino.

“The buy-in is 10,000 Berries.” The dealer informed him downstairs, deliberately not offering him a seat at the roulette table.

River took off one of his bangles and offered it to him. “I don’t have any money. This bracelet is inlaid with a rare sea glass, only formed once a year and deadly to harvest on beaches protected by Bananawani.” He hoped the dealer had both too little knowledge to challenge his fib and enough indifference to take gold for what it was.

“Cash only, sir.”

“Well—” River was interrupted by a man wearing a fur that matched the coat of the woman with him, and whether or not River recognized them, they remembered him.

“Oh come on. Oasins don’t use money, you have to expand your rules if you’re going to entertain a wider variety of customers. I’ll put up collateral to cover him. Go on, son, put your bracelet on the board.”

“Thank you… er, how do I play?” He looked at the pair and the woman smiled, all white teeth and bright lipstick, leaving colorful rings on the tip of her cigarette holder.

“It’s just chance, baby, you can’t be bad at it. If the ball picks the spot you chose on the board, you win.”

“Any more bets?” The dealer asked the table.

“We’ll double his bet, put us all on the same spot. What’s your name, son?”

“River.”

“Nice to meet you, River. I’m Don. My wife Patty.” He said as the wheel clicked, spinning and chasing the ball. The table all seemed to lean forward, crowded around the peppered grid that was weighted down by chips (and bangle) on 13 black.

“13 black.” The dealer called among their gasps, placing all the winnings into Don’s pile.

“That’s some beginners luck, son, here.” He puffed on his cigarette as he handed River a slice of his chips for the win. “Go again, let’s keep going.”

He moved his bracelet to another square, 1 to 12, and a single chip to red. Don matched the bet both times, and Patty offered River one of her cigarettes with a smile as she lit it with a kiss of her own.

“10 red.” The table erupted in hollers, drawing the attention of nearby tables as Don clapped his hands on River’s shoulders.

“How about that, he’s lucky!” His shaking almost toppled the cigarette free from River’s lips as they smiled and cheered. “How long are you gonna be here today? ‘Cause you’re spending the day with me, let’s drink to that. Crocodile’s gonna have to hand over the deed by the time we’re done here.” ____ ___ __ _

“Cash.” He told the lady at the payout counter that counted his money with polished red nails, quicker than even the shopkeepers he had served who handled cash all day long.

The shops were ready to close but River ran through the streets to find what he needed, hoping the cash in his pocket was enough. He came to a blacksmith with the closed sign already in his hand, and pressed his palms to the glass.

“We’re closed.”

“Can you just tell me if you sell swords?”

“That’s a strange question to ask—beg someone at the end of the day.” They met eyes, and the blacksmith appraised the pearls in his earrings, ones that matched the pearl in his own pendant.

“10 minutes.” He said as he opened the door to let River inside. The Oasin was scanning the shop with wild eyes, hunting for a specific prize as the blacksmith went to get stock from the back.

“What are you doing so far from home?” He watched the way River startled before holding up his necklace. “Your pearls. Thought maybe you’d bought ‘em, but you’ve got the worst poker face I’ve ever seen. You’ll have to get better at that. What’s got you scared enough to pound on my door at dusk for a weapon?”

“Would you believe me if I said I can’t tell you?”

“Yeah, I would.” He snorted. The trunk he produced was full of short swords, daggers, haphazardly collected to be sold under the table for frightened civilians looking to protect themselves in the coming war. They were dull enough he could dig his arm to the bottom and pull out a smaller box, dusty and scratched.

“You can have one of these. Their previous owner said they can only go to another Oasin. I think they’ve collected dust long enough.” The dilapidated condition of the outer shell gave no indication of the shiny satin inside, cradling two twin blades, too long to be daggers and too short to be swords. They were one solid piece of metal, carved on the hilt to the smallest detail in bright silver.

“Their names are Amante and Amigo. They haven’t done any great deeds but their previous owner insisted they have names. Said it makes the metal tougher.”

“I’ll take both. How much?”

The man assumed he had no money, and asked for the same bangle that River had almost gambled away hours earlier.

One year, come what may. Just one year and I can go home.

But River would remain a part of Baroque Works for 15 months and 3 days. And when he was finally unemployed, he wouldn’t be allowed to return to Oasis.

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

Important context highlighted. I've had some very lovely conversations on that platform, but uhhhhhh there's definitely quite a few people who slept through English class. Or got all their knowledge from vague cultural osmosis, rather than the original source(s). WRT 40k, and Gman in particular, there's a constant barrage of "Guilliman is such a goody-goody two shoes!"--both from people who hate him and people who love him. They all think he's a hero, but he's not. He is a slightly better person than some of the other primarchs, but given that "some of the other primarchs" includes dudes who skin people for funsies, that bar is so low the devil is stepping over it.

I love Guilliman dearly. I was first introduced to him in the Dark Imperium trilogy, and the complexity of the character hooked me like cocaine. Guilliman is a very ideologically motivated character. He genuinely wants to be The Good Guy, and he usually thinks of himself as The Good Guy. But when you look at what he's actually doing and saying...Well. See above. Dark Imperium is especially notable because he spends big chunks of the books rethinking his past actions and perspectives, trying to figure out where he went wrong, even as he continues making the same mistakes. It makes for a very flawed, contradictory character, and I find the resulting complexity endlessly fascinating.

So to see all his rough edges smoothed off, to see him reduced to "the sensible, reasonable primarch" by his fans and haters alike--well, it gets my dander up.

I posted an analysis of a section from Dark Imperium on Reddit that I'm quite proud of, so I'm reposting it here:

‘Some of the worlds dispute the proof. They are more than glad to welcome our warriors, but the Imperial governors in two dozen systems quibble over reaffirming their oaths of loyalty. In one case, we have had an outbreak of intra-system civil war over the issue, where one lord has declared for you and three against. Some lie outright, telling us they were never part of Ultramar. Perhaps some of them sincerely believe it. A few are braver and insist the ancient treaties cannot be revoked, even by you, my lord, and are determined to retain their independence.’ ‘They are wrong,’ said Guilliman. […] 'They are… disquieted by the fate of some of their peers.’ ‘Only those who rule poorly have anything to fear,’ said Guilliman. ‘It is, naturally, the more autocratic rulers who oppose your rescinding of their independence.’ ‘Then they only delay the inevitable,’ said Guilliman. ‘They will fall into line and ask politely for mercy, or they will be executed.’ […] ‘I should never have set the Five Hundred free,’ he said. ‘My lord?’ said Ventris. ‘I should not have done it,’ repeated Guilliman. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was following the Emperor’s wishes, letting men rule the affairs of men.’

A lot of people look at this passage and think they’re seeing Guilliman clean up corruption in the 500 Worlds. I’m sure he will, but that’s not what’s happening here. This is an autocrat ruthlessly crushing resistance.

Why are these worlds resisting? Ventris claims that “naturally” the more autocratic rulers are the most resistant. Perhaps that’s true, but we also have to take into account that he is an Ultramarine talking to his genesire; he will be heavily biased in thought and word against Guilliman’s enemies. Look closer at how he describes the resisters. They invoke ancient treaties to justify their independence. They’re afraid of what will happen if they surrender. Using that information, let’s flip the chessboard and try to imagine what these demands feel like from their perspective:

You’re a human ruler. For the past ten thousand years, your planet has existed free of transhuman rule. You might even have the original treaty that granted your planet’s independence. You almost certainly regard yourself as an obedient subject of the Imperium.

All of a sudden, one of the legendary demigods of yore shows up on your doorstep and demands you to bend the knee. He doesn’t care about your treaties (which he probably signed!) or historic independence or anything. Ugly things happen to people who go against him. Oh sure, he claims that you’ll be fine, so long as you haven’t done anything wrong, but do you really believe that? You’re a ruler in the fucking Imperium. You know just how potential claimants are handled; you know how often misdeeds get dug out of the closets of inconvenient politicians. Shit, you've probably done that yourself to your political rivals. Do you really think that you’ll be okay? And if you actually care about your planet, can you really trust him to give a damn about the lives of your people? Transhumans do tend to be aloof creatures convinced in their own superiority…

Guilliman doesn’t consider any of these possibilities, not even for the purposes of negotiation. Guilliman doesn’t care. He’s right, you’re wrong, and therefore he’s justified in doing whatever it takes to make you comply. This is 40k. “Whatever it takes” includes cyclonic torpedoes.

The most damning part IMO are Guilliman’s words at the end. He didn’t grant these worlds their liberty because he trusted humans to look after themselves. He granted them liberty in obedience to Dad. Humans’ thoughts, beliefs, and opinions never entered the equation. And now, coming back to the Imperium at its lowest point, he concludes that it was a mistake to give humans the benefit of the doubt.

The Imperium lasted ten thousand years under human rule. It survived the Great Beast, twelve Black Crusades, the Nova Terra civil war, the False Primarch, the Age of Apostasy, three Tyranid Wars, and Throne knows what else—not just survived, but even thrived in many cases. Under transhuman rule, the Imperium lasted six fucking years before it exploded into civil war that nearly destroyed the whole empire and even the galaxy itself. But it was a mistake to let humans rule themselves. Riiiiiiiiight.

[mister13eyond]

Ngl tho, the "why do you as an adult care about what minors say all the time" arguments feel so disingenuous to me

Like, spreading misinformation about sex and kinks gets a pass just because it's a minor who's spreading it? Or when an adult is being accused of heinous crimes over their fanfics, they should just suck it up because the ones accusing them just so happen to be minors? This is so tiring. I just can't look at those arguments in good faith

That's reasonable! I think there's a threshold of reasonable push back you can and SHOULD give when people in fandom are spreading misinformation or mass harassing fan creators, regardless of age. I think it's always within reason to stand up against that and to put your foot down and refuse to allow bullying and harassment to happen in your circle or to make it clear that kind of shit is harmful and often entirely constructed on misinformation and falsehoods.

I think I've also just seen so many accounts (on Twitter, mostly, because it's a hellsite) where it seems like they're just... spending every. Single. Day. Immersed in bad takes, QRT-ing some stupid opinion a teenager has, constantly talking about antis, constantly engaged in arguments with antis, and it hits a threshold where it's like.... are you doing this because you care about freedom of expression and exploring dark or troubling topics in safe spaces anymore? Or do you just like to argue? I care a LOT about these things and I think the current puritanical pushback against queer sexuality and kink is definitely harmful and actively hurts people, but oh my god, sometimes I see people who spend every single day hunting down bad anti takes and I have to wonder when the last time they had FUN in fandom was. Like... I think there's this idea that we're fighting the good fight by arguing against these things, and I ALSO want to make sure that we have spaces safe to do so and knowledge on how these are perfectly healthy and human ways to explore subjects we would never want to encounter in real life, but once it gets to "hunting down and QRT-ing some 15 year olds bad take" it honestly just spreads those ideas to a BIGGER audience by broadcasting them, even in the form of debunking, you know?

I guess it's just a matter of, like, balance? It's so so bad for ANYONE online to constantly immerse themselves in things that upset them. That's a real problem with puritanical circles- they're constantly constantly immersed in these things they say are triggering or upsetting, and therefore go on the attack and harm people over fiction- but the opposite can be true too. Immersing yourself in a constant flood of abusive language, baseless accusations, misinformation and harassment because you are "fighting it" is bad for you! You can't spend all your time doing that, or it becomes a kind of self-harm, you know?

I will definitely admit I'm biased by my own perspective, but I will say anecdotally- I spent a good chunk of my earlier time in fandom neck-deep in the "proship vs anti" trenches and I felt... pretty consistently miserable. I was only following people who were proship, and I thought seeing bad anti takes deconstructed and taken down would make it better and more cathartic to follow these arguments, but it got to the point where every single day I was exposed to the idea that someone out there likely thought absolutely horrible things about me based on what I read/write/draw. I felt super paranoid and really scared of even creating things at all, anticipating I'd get dog piled at any moment... Eventually I realized a small handful of accounts were the ones CONSTANTLY giving traffic and attention to these harmful posts & ideas (in the form of debunking them/arguing back against them) and I unfollowed or blocked as needed to focus instead on, like. Actually just DOING the things I thought would make fandom better? Sharing kink fics or art, sharing my headcanons that could be heavier or more troubling, etc. And I have to say it feels A HUNDRED times better. I know there's still a lot of misinformation and harm out there, but I feel like it's so much more productive to me to simply... provide a good example to the alternative? To go 'hey, I'm one of those people who make and read the kinds of things that everyone says are horrible and make me a bad person.' while also doing my best to consistently be kind, supportive, communicative and show that I am in fact a happy healthy adult with good relationships and good support and people who love me? So that I can simply, focus on the positive side of what fandom and all its weird kinks and weird fiction have given me! Because these things ARE very much something that's brought a lot of positive things into my life.

Sorry, I didn't mean to soap box! I think you have a really good point- a lot of the time those arguments ARE in bad faith and are thrown at anyone who exhibits even a moment of pushback against harassment or harm just because it's coming from a minor. I just think there's also a really toxic side of the "constantly in arguments on the internet" subset of people who really need to step back and try and give themselves some healthy breathing room and cut off the onslaught of 24/7 exposure to abuse and misinfo 😔