#this fandom can be wack and for WHAT

[fluidfox123]

Izzy Hands is a complex, dynamic, and well-rounded character. The fandom's depiction of making him a flat, simple, all-villain and all-hero character–when it isn't silly-haha and having fun (obviously because me too, girlie, me too)–but as a genuine, serious perspective of his character and his place in the show is something that I would like to point out.��

So, obviously, some of this fandom has strong ass opinions about Izzy Hands, and I have seen so many takes on him, especially with the release of the first season 2 episodes. Now, for those of you who don't know (for any new fans), Izzy Hands is the first mate to Blackbeard's crew and frequently, in season 1, was uptight, persuading Edward Teach to do things he didn't really want to do (Kill Stede Bonnet, act a certain way around the crew, not show weakness, act on another side to him that was present on the Revenge, etc.) 

This has caused a lot of fandom splitting on opinions about him, especially his toxicity to vulnerability when Ed was heartbroken over Stede leaving, Ed and Izzy having more than a captain and first mate relationship, his actions towards the crew, and so on other unpleasant things he's done. This has caused fandom to view him as homophobic (at times internalized), masochistic, an abuser, and villainized. Other parts of the fandom see him as a victim of societal symbolism, a scorned lover (going through a divorce), a one-sided lover, and an actual hero for not only the progression of the story but Ed and Stede's relationship.

A lot of the fandom is insanely split on this, so split I've seen entire arguments about it and people pulling some unbelievable shit over some lil guy in a comedy-emotionally-symbolic pirate show, so I am here to say, very loudly and clearly: Izzy Hands ain't no villain or hero, no abuser or victim. I am here to say he is fucking BOTH simultaneously and that he isn't more of one or the fucking other. He has two hands, and both hold the complex nature of humanity as the beautifully well-rounded character he is. 

To get the ugliest explanation out of the way, the idea of an abuser being a victim and a victim being an abuser is something that, I believe, is something that has to be considered when speaking of Izzy Hands, especially concerning Edward Teach. Like, practically ESSENTIAL, if you want to dive into the meat of their relationship. And I don't just mean that as in, like, "Izzy Hands fucked over Edward emotionally to the point of mentally breaking him and then got physically abused in return by the man he mentally broke with his idiocy," BUT ALSO through the lens of "Edward AND Izzy have spent long years in a hell they can't escape in the line of work they have been forced to stay in, even by those who are supposed to be by their side/society, and in turn twisted the dagger into the stomach of those who placed it on them." 

Now, to clarify, in similar terms, Izzy Hands–someone who is affected by the view of what piracy is supposed to be by literally everyone outside of the Revenge and Blackbeard's ship, as shown in season 1–has abused Edward emotionally, brought upon him ideas that harm him and tear that man apart to the point of feeding into his suicide ideations that have been present from the very beginning. At the same time, Edward has internalized those views and reflected them upon the one who hurt him and others. Izzy Hands and Edward Teach are victims of an idea of what is "right" for them to do, be, and believe, and CONTINUE that cycle by feeding it into the other.

Now, this show isn't the real world, no matter how much you want it to be, so pointing out who is more or not problematic is like looking at a lineup of Hannibal Lecter from multiple types of media and trying to decide who did cannibalism and murder the nicest. They're PIRATES; they KILL people. The fact is that this show uses death and fighting as something that is not serious, goofy even, and injury to the main characters as EMOTIONAL, SYMBOLIC storytelling. Edward getting verbally abused by Izzy Hands daily and Edward choking the man out and taking away his toes and then his fucking leg is on the same level as the storytelling and NOT about one being evil and one being a poor baby. It is simple: they are fucked up guys who hurt one another despite caring for one another. You can find REFLECTIONS of real life in OFMD, but that does not make it real life and should not be treated as such. 

To the "But people don't deserve abuse! You're being an abuser apologist by saying Izzy deserved it!" "Izzy hands brought this on himself and deserves all the physical, emotional, and mental pain, and I hope he dies." I bring you: Izzy is an abuser; the consequences of that abuse broke a man who, in turn, broke him with abuse. It is a cycle, an unhealthy relationship on both sides. No one deserved it, but it happened (is happening even), and what matters is how the show decides to address it. And liking and supporting the prevalence of it on screen to dive into this kind of relationship is not fucking evil. It does not make someone good or bad to explore harsh topics, see them on screen, and enjoy and want MORE of them. 

They are pirates who have been around captains who force-fed crew mates live crabs that ripped through a stomach, watched people burn alive without a second glance, killed their fathers, and threatened each other with guns and weapons on a daily fuckin' basis. This isn't that far-fetched that this would have happened. It doesn't matter who is redeemable; it's about criminals who are fucked up in falling in love and working through issues. And the mere fucked up but REALISTIC SYMBOLISM AND STORYTELLING of Ed and Izzy's relationship brings so much to not only season 1 but their characters and what this means for them in the past and future. In my opinion, it is masterful to see such characters like this on-screen who DO care for each other but can never love each other like they want. Because that's another thing: they truly love each other, and if you want to get deeper into that part of it, I recommend this post I made. 

In summary, this man is the abuser and the abused, and those who refuse to see this are missing the entire part of his character and Ed and Izzy's relationship.

To get to the other point, Izzy is, yes, an abuser and a victim, but at the same time is a fictional being deserving and capable of change, just like every character in the show who is part of the main cast (he is not Big Jack Horner from Puss in Boots, now THAT is an irredeemable character in media done RIGHT). 

People look at Izzy Hands being an asshole and make him a flat-ass villain who is homophobic JUST because he treats the queers on The Revenge like shit and is not deserving of getting the arc he is getting because he wasn't the most pleasant guy in the room is the equivalent of people who took one look at all Izzy's done and thinks Izzy has never done anything wrong in his entire life, everything Izzy has done is justified because he's changed in season 2. And just like I said before, this doesn't apply to the fandom inside jokes. No, when I state these things, it's about people who take it SERIOUSLY. Look at Izzy and GENUINELY THINK IN A VERY REAL, VERY "I WILL FIGHT YOU TO THE DEATH" OPINION ABOUT HIM BEING A VILLIAN OR HERO. Which isn't at all right. He is not at all one or the other; he is just a little guy who plays both roles in-story and out-of-story ways.

He is more than capable of changing, and this is shown in season 1 when he apologized for snapping at Blackbeard over his stress of trying to make sure they survive day to day; he knew he was hurting Edward but was, in fact, doing it to ensure Edward's safety despite how misconstrued it was and still is in season 2 (based on his conversation with Stede in the Captain's Quarters). He is not only protected by the trauma crew on the Revenge but protects them IN RETURN from things that happened off-screen, and those who do not think the end of season 1 Izzy and the beginning of season 2 Izzy match up or are not the same character have missed much context from his past appearances before season 2. And that applies to people who ignore either part of his character, the good or bad.

People who are not redeemable do not apologize for their actions. They do not verbalize and tell people they know they're doing things wrong. These are all signs of a character capable of being self-aware if they choose to. We have seen Izzy Hands choose it between seasons. Just because it wasn't on screen with a neon sign pointing to it doesn't mean it isn't happening and DIDN'T happen. Izzy's reaction to Fang asking what happened to his toe in the library scene isn't how we first interpreted it; it matches the beginning of an abusive cycle we see later. It is a nervous laugh, the settling of something, joy, delight, and fear. Because Izzy was PUT in his place from an idea that Izzy placed in Ed's head. But we know Edward has never been this far gone, so when he continued to be punished, it was no longer a sign of his Blackbeard; that delight vanished and turned to horror and regret and him owning up to his actions. 

Izzy states he and the rest of the crew are WORRIED about him. He cares, and because he doesn't care healthily and cutely doesn't mean he doesn't care because care isn't always pretty and good; it doesn't have to be righteous and morally right. (This applies to Edward and people hating him for his treatment of the crew and Izzy. Everything I have said applies to him as well, just as much. Despite everything, the crew cares about him, but that doesn't mean everything is good and dandy either; it is COMPLEX.) 

Izzy Hands quite LITERALLY has only followed Pirate Protocol this entire time that Edward has followed for years alongside him, and to call him evil and irredeemable is to call Edward the same thing, and to call them both monsters is to miss the entire fuckin point of this show and it's story-telling. 

This is not about what is right and wrong in the lens of real life for every little detail; it is about the right and wrong of love, relationships, and societal expectations upon outsiders and people who don't follow what is expected of them. It is about how each person interprets it and has fun with it, and to make it a battleground is so fuckin sad. I am so sorry you think you must do that and make everything censored and pure when we finally get a show that doesn't queerbait, demonize individuals who usually are, is anti-racist/colonist and doesn't shit on neurodivergent folks.

And last but not least, allow Izzy to be interpreted by fandom as fandom wishes. It's about having fun, so have fun with him while RESPECTING his character and your fellow fans! See him as a masochist? Don't equalize his abuse and victim moments as masochism because abuse does not equal masochism in any form. See him as an antagonist? Hell, yeah, give the bad sides of him some love! See him as a protagonist? Awesome, feed into those positive points! But in no fuckin world is there a reason to attack one another over this little fictional man who is literally nothing like his real counterpart. In summary, everyone's opinion is valid, and if you don't like something, don't interact, and not everything that makes you uncomfortable is evil. 

[wayfayrr]

I hope life eases up soon man, take care of yourself

Thanks mate <3

stuff's starting to gradually get better now, actually let myself feel feelings after bottling them till it popped

just kinda turns out that throwing yourself into something so you're numb to the other things can really burn you out :') So I'm trying to find motivation to write and answer asks again, I'm hoping it'll be soon but idk atp

[alun1r]

Rare Alu Rant About Fandoms bc I never say shit:

Sue me, but getting into a fandom just for the intention of becoming popular is so weird to me.

Like sure you want a lot of people to see what you make. Because making something for the fandom should be seen! That’s dope as hell.

But you’re gonna lose inspiration real fast when you find out content creation takes a lotta work but more often than not comes with little reward.

I hold firmly the belief that Fandom is for making content for the pure reason of just because you can.

✨the joy of free will to bring your delusions to life so others can indulge in their delusions as well✨ Kinda vibes? Yanno?

I never started making HL content with the idea in mind that I’d reach 9k followers on tiktok. And I ain’t gonna lie it’s daunting for me. Specially as someone whose always just made shit for whatever reason without even posting it. But The videos that got me views and followers on tiktok, were made because I was high and wanted to laugh. And I’d figured “what the hell, this made me laugh….Maybe it will make someone else laugh.” And I’m glad it did.

And now I float around just making stuff. I still make whatever I want tbh. I do my best to give credit where credit is due in what I make. And yeah I’ve done some fan service videos and writing here and there because hey it’s fun for me.

I see so many posts or peoples bios saying that they’re working towards being popular in fandom and then their posts are what other people said or made on Twitter or tiktok or Vice versa and there’s often times there’s no real credit to original creators.

Don’t get me wrong, if it’s properly credited, AWESOME. Usually it’s not though, and that’s just wild to me. Because how are you expecting to get popular under your own name when you’re just reposting stuff.

That doesn’t make you a content creator.

A historical collector guess?? Because you’re like idk collecting all the stuff people made and what not onto a new page.

Idk dude. I just miss authenticity I guess. People making stuff and just being excited to show it.

Don’t get me wrong though it’s not all terrible on here and everywhere on the internet for fandoms. I’ve made close friends with other creators who feel and see fandom much the same. Just here to vibe and escape.

I’m not saying I don’t think views and followers and likes and notes or what have you, matter. I know they do. I get a lil confidence boost when something I make pops off. I feel proud.

But man it’s the intention of “ Im trying to be a popular creator” that rubs me the wrong way. Make stuff because you like it. Not because other people will. Doing whatever to get you likes wont bring the same satisfaction. And in more cases than not I see it backfiring and causing drama because, like I said it’s usually shit that’s copied or reposted.

Who knows maybe I’m just old and don’t understand bc I also see fandom and the work I’ve contributed as something I wouldn’t like boast about in real life. Because the reaction wouldn’t be positive. Like just for enjoying Hogwarts legacy I get teased in my daily life from acquaintances. It’s not totally negative. Buts it’s enough for me to know that YEAH 9k followers on tiktok don’t mean anything in the real world LMAO because at the end of the day, offline, I am still just a nerd whose daydreaming in her bedroom to escape reality.

I’m 24 dude. And I work in news. Shit is exhausting. Read a headline and you’ll see what I mean. And I just wanted to rant about it because it’s been bugging me since I joined fandom again last year.

But due to, idk my follower count and whatnot I always felt like I can’t or rather I shouldn’t speak my mind so much for fear of SOMEONE coming for me for something. And man I hate that feeling bc this bitch has opinions and I dislike the idea of feeling like others have control over it. But tbh eh. I wanted to rant. Just speaking into the void of the internet.

If you decide to send anon hate for my opinionated rant be ready for a meme bc I don’t have the mental capacity to take anything other than my IRL life responsibilities seriously lmao.

[lord-squiggletits]

Man, it doesn't matter what the medium or fandom is, truly the debate that ruins fandom discussions the fastest is when people try to decide which characters "deserve" what. Especially when it comes to them deciding which characters are evil, how evil they are, and how severe their punishment should be for their evil deeds.

It's really annoying/harmful on multiple levels. For one, morally speaking, the line between "evil, but can repent/compensate for their deeds" and "evil, cannot be redeemed, suffer and die forever" is harder to define than you think, and who has the authority to define it anyways?

But also, fictional stories (especially the better, more nuanced, more mature ones) are rarely ever about "deserving" and don't divide their characters neatly between the "good" and the "evil." Every time I see fans debate about "how evil" a Problematic Fave is, or if Fave 1 is better/worse than Fave 2, all I see is people ruining their own fun and stirring up bad blood between other fans. Why would you add this dichotomy of "deserving" to a FICTIONAL story and start real life beef with people over it? At that point you're getting more invested in your discourse over imagined good/evil binaries than you are invested in watching/reading/consuming the actual story itself.

[crunchycrystals]

made my own playlist for t/ylor swift's discog because i wanted to listen to her entire discog without remixes and the random eps and getting rid of songs i dont like listening to and the one i made is 14 hours long lol

[clovernment]

I'm happy to read in your bio that you like and queue the posts of artists. That's wholesome behaviour and supportive of artists. Good!!

thanks!

rb's mean so much, they practically keep this site functional

[demonicbaby666]

Find Me Under the Sycamore Tree

One shot | Marvel Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Words: 4.4k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, kidnapping (kinda), blood play, degradation, asphyxiation, fingering, oral sex, pain play, restraints, orgasm denial, overstimulation, branding, sub/dom dynamic, sub!reader, dom!Agatha, dubcon

Summary: You’re scared and alone, running through an endless forest with no idea how you got there. You know you’re being followed. You know Agatha is hot on your trail, but what you don’t know, is what she will do when she finds you.

A/n: THIS IS A DARK FIC. The themes of it can be triggering and will not appeal to some. Read at your own risk, and please avoid if you believe anything in the warnings will negatively affect you.

In the darkness of the witching hour, you find yourself hurling through an endless forest. The trees are barren of life–corpses after winter stripped them of their leaves and, with it, their colour. Branches wack against one another as though they’re trying to huddle together to stave off the cold and preserve what life force remains at the core of their brittle roots. The sound carries. It crackles and follows your every step. 

From the very start, you knew this was a battle you couldn't win. But your defiance, your refusal to accept defeat, fuels your relentless pursuit of freedom. You race through the darkness, ignoring the pain of broken twigs and shrubbery alike as they cut at the underside of your feet, each step a declaration of your unyielding rebellion.

You’re cold, shivering and praying for a miracle in nothing but a slip, its fabric sheer and virgin white, providing no comfort against the brittle bite of clouded mist. The air is thick and wet, sticking to the growing sweat on your forehead as you race against the unseen presence of powerful magic. Your lungs, straining to steal air, make a desperate plea in the silent forest. But the air is too damp to replenish the dwindling fuel left in your chest, and every breath remains a fight with no reward, a constant reminder that the struggle you now face may very well reap the same futile fate. 

You know she’ll find you if she hasn’t already. The chase excites her–watching her prey struggle as each step leads them further into her nest and closer to their death. It won’t be quick and no less painful. Agatha will make sure her eyes are the ones that haunt you in your grave. 

Scattered burrows concealed by darkness leave the earth uneven. Caution is not something time affords you, and so you are left at the mercy of the woodlands, at the divots that seek to knock you off kilter, at the tree roots that jut out of tarmac mud, angry and unruly, cruel to use their network to ensure your pace is broken by constant stumbling. 

Is this it? Is this how it ends? Only an hour ago, you were in bed, sleeping sweetly, blissfully unaware of how unencumbered your life had been. The TV is likely still on, reruns playing in the silence of a bedroom that may never see its occupant again. The candle on your bedside table is probably burnt down to its wick, the last dying embers of its flame flickering behind its glass prison. What you would do for some light now. 

Despite the sweat marking your forehead, the constant burn of your hamstrings and exertion keeping your blood hot, you bristle against the unnatural frost marking the air. It's sharp and travels up your nose like a vine, stabbing its thorns into your head till all you know is the constant ringing of a migraine. Between the cold and adrenaline, the goosebumps raised on your skin stay with you during your every move. It’s a comfort—a reminder that you are still alive and human, and your body is still fighting. 

But it's all for nothing. 

Pessimism is one thing. Rationalism is another. Logic tells you Agatha is closing in, and your best option is to hide, but your head is ringing, and you can’t make out right from wrong or left from right, so instead, you keep forward. Condensation has bruised the forest soil, forcing it into a slippery, sponge-like substance that gathers in clumps above your ankles. It weighs you down and makes navigating through uneven terrain unmanageable. You slip and slide, forcing your eyes ahead, below, anywhere but behind you, too scared you'll see the lurking figure that marks your end like a bad omen. 

A bird flies overhead, a sign of life in the desolate forest, an allying companion trying to flee. Hope. You avert your eyes upward, tuning your ears to the sound of fluttering wings and calls to freedom. You’re choking on the stench of death and moisture by the time you see a clearing. The moon’s silvery light is untouched by the forest there, peeking out from beyond tangled treetops and illuminating the dirt path to sanctified land. 

Stupidly, you freeze, awestruck by the sight. Your body betrays you for only a fraction of a second before rebooting with the intent to sprint. But it’s too late. You’ve made a mistake, and the unforgiving woodland closes in. The open walkway is drowning in darkness as branches twist, shift and interlink. It doesn’t matter that you’re running faster than you have your whole life; the exit is sealed like a vault when you make it to the end of the forest tunnel.

The last embers of hope are snubbed out from beneath you, burying themselves in the hollow pools of earth your collapsing knees create. You can feel her, smell the sandalwood clinging to her skin, but there is no adrenaline left, no fight left in you to get up, to cower, to beg. Instead, you stare at the tiny cracks between branches and freedom, biting your tongue when something blunt and heavy hits the side of your head.

“Poor thing,” Agatha cooes, crouching beside you to gently pull sticky, bloodied hair off your face. Her wicked, toothy smile is the last thing you see before unconsciousness swarms you. 

Everything that happens next comes to you in flashes. You register the bindings over your wrists and ankles, aware that no manufactured material can offer this phantom sensation, leaving magic the only culprit. The murky brown landscape around you spins, transforming into more of the same as you’re dragged forward, feet hovering above the ground. You can see Agatha. She’s about a yard away, one hand to the side, trailing ever so slightly behind with a bright cord of purple connecting your restraints to the emerging tendrils of magic gleaming off her fingers. 

Your blood is molten copper, tangy and hot on your tongue. The metallic zing that lingers over your tastebuds keeps you present for the rebinding of your limbs. Your back presses against rough bark, sap oozing through the thin cotton of your slip, and you shiver against the cold, sickly substance as it sticks to your back. An incantation is whispered into the breeze, and roots peeking out from the dirt below take on a life of their own. They wind over your body till your arms are forced behind you, around the large sycamore tree, and your ankles are spread shoulder-width apart and held close to the base of the trunk. 

A single swing of Agatha’s finger and your slip is torn clean down the middle, falling to each side of your shoulders and exposing the entire length of your body. An angry red line marks the travel of magic from your sternum to your sex, inked in red droplets. What had you expected? To be gently undressed and appraised for your naked form. No, that wasn't how this would happen. This wasn’t about you or for you. 

Agatha hums quietly, looking you up and down as her fingers dip into the scarlet liquid pouring from your wound. Around you is more of the same: dirt paths littered with fallen leaves, tree carcases disfigured, withering away to winter, and beyond the horizon, peeking through branches, is the moon. Its light does not shine down on the woodlands. This place is unworthy of anything that could contribute to the sustenance of life. It is a no man's land, and anyone unfortunate enough to wander through its endless trails will surely discover the resting place for their last breaths. 

“You’re quiet,” the brunette remarks, looking away from the gauged flesh of your stomach to your face, which she inspects speculatively. Her fingers remain focused on painting your stomach red. 

You stare at her blankly, giving nothing away. If Agatha’s goal is to revel in your fear, she will find not a lick of fright from your trained features. The pain is more challenging to mask, especially when a sharp fingernail digs into your cut, tearing the flesh anew, intent to never let it clot. You make no sound, clenching your teeth together, flaring your nostrils and forcing yourself to breathe steadily through the pain. 

Agatha tuts and, always one for the dramatics, has a sizable pout on her face, feigning upset, “You’re no fun.” 

When you remain silent, Agatha’s mock sadness shifts into something darker, curious and unexpected. Her usual victims must have all begged, cowered and cried. Alternatively, they may have responded with anger, relying on brute strength that could only take them so far in the face of the unnatural. In the end, they all gave her the same. They all showed her how fragile and fickle the human mind is. They allowed her to penetrate their defences in one way or another, letting her sink her claws into their foundations and find what lies beneath bravado and tears—fear. But anyone given too much of the same gets bored.

“There is no one but us here. What good would screaming do?” You ask, levelled and calm. It’s tricky to tame the tremors of your jaw and the chattering of your teeth, but allowing them to disrupt your question's pace and timbre would paint a less-than-idyllic picture of your already declining resolve. 

Her grin is one of triumph, and whilst the song it sings is laden with satisfaction, you can see the underlying relief trickle through the harsh bite of her smile, intrigue burning brighter behind her coral-blue eyes. 

“It speaks,” she announces to an invisible crowd, arms wide and spread. “And you’re right, sweetpea. Screaming wouldn’t do you any good.” 

In the following silence, you allow yourself to take Agatha in fully. Her plum slacks are clipped at her ankles, revealing only the tips of her black boots. A navy blue overcoat is draped over her white blouse, freshly pressed and framing her figure perfectly as it sinches her waist and falls seamlessly down her body. Her hair, wavy yet tame, is loose, falling over her breasts in layers of chestnut brown streaked with shades of dark caramel. 

Time will always know Agatha’s name. Her murderous ways are etched into the fabric of history, tales of her unique powers passed down from coven to coven, witch to witch, and for you, mother to daughter. But one thing history has failed to highlight is the beauty of her treachery. She basks in her reputation like a conqueror holding their crown, surveying fallen bodies and foreseeing their gluttonous future in the reflections of pooled blood. The power suits her, even if she fails to wear it humbly. 

There’s a pleased look on her face when you meet her eyes, and she says, “Ogle away.” 

You scoff, looking anywhere but at the witch and willing the cold to taper the heat emanating from your cheeks. The sound of leaves being mercilessly crushed under Agatha’s boot is crisp. The clean crunch sounds once, twice, and you stiffen, hating how your feet beg to scurry and hide. You’re better than the fear and the cowardice urges, but at the end of the day, you’re only human, and your body acts without the restraints of your mind in perilous situations. You reign in the jitters, force your limbs to remain still, and your face stoic. 

She’s close. Her breath is tickling your face ever so gently, her finger and thumb pinching your chin to force your gaze forward, and it’s increasingly becoming more challenging to ignore the electric sensations that are zapping about in your stomach. It was a stump of wood that knocked you out, magic that tethered you to Agatha as she dragged you through the forest and the vines that are now what keep you bound. Leaving this, the first time you’ve felt Agatha’s touch. 

“I quite enjoy the attention.” Agatha grins, staring directly into your eyes, keen to sink her nails into the steel armour that holds your tears at bay. 

It’s odd. Where her fingers should be imbued with murderous intent, they are far from roughspun on your skin. Her grip is harsh, but her thumb is feather light as it grazes the underside of your lip, and her finger soft as it brushes the length of your jaw, catching wisps of sodden hair soaked with sweat, blood and condensation. It sends another jolt of something sharp and hot down your spine.

“Don’t,” you whisper through a shaky breath.

There’s no reason the older woman should heed your command, and there are no consequences if she doesn’t. She’s in control and knows it—is unafraid to show it. 

The shivers are back with revenge, but it isn’t the cold or fear that fuels them; it’s the weight of a palm resting against your stomach, warm and heavy as it meanders over your ribs. With no preamble, her hand comes to lay over your breast, and her fingers tighten around the globe of flesh, squeezing before they move down to circle your hardened nipple. 

“Stop,” you whisper, miserably aware of how your voice is weakened by lust and holds no authority. 

It shouldn’t feel good. You know it shouldn’t. But your body disagrees, chest arching forward into the heated touch of Agatha, and much to your chagrin, there’s a trapped moan tickling the sides of your throat that you vehemently fight to keep at bay. 

Your refusal to submit only makes this more fun for her, and your submission would guarantee your imminent demise, so you’re left walking a tightrope, fine-tuning your responses in a waking effort to remain alive. It’s that awareness, that constant cycle of methodical thoughts, that helps you realise a moment too late you’ve chosen the wrong course of action. 

“I said stop,” you shout, slamming your head forward to collide with Agatha’s nose. 

The older woman’s smile corrodes with anger, momentary but fierce as fire and hotter than the blazing end of a poker stick. When you blink away your fears, the fury is gone, but its effects are lasting. Agatha grabs you by your throat, cutting off your airways with her powerful grip, and slams your head back with a quick shove that has you seeing stars. 

“That wasn’t nice.” Something is alarming about her smile. It’s plastic and appears false, but beneath its exterior, there’s some sort of maniacal truth to it, like she’s overjoyed by the prospect of seeing you dazed at her hand, which isn’t hard to believe. 

With a drawn-down motion of her free hand, another cut marks your flesh, and pain overwhelms your senses. It's blinding and oddly familiar—something you can hold onto like a crutch to keep you planted in the present. You bite down the weak urge to vocalise your suffering, swallowing down a strained cry that feels much too similar to sandpaper. 

If Agatha is unhappy with your lack of response, she doesn't show it. In fact, not even a second is spent surveying you or her work before she’s three fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt, stretching you out over and over as she pumps with both speed and vigour. 

“Tell me to stop,” she growls. “I dare you.” 

You mutter a quick, “Oh fuck,” under your breath and try to focus on the blood trickling down your stomach and dripping onto Agatha’s wrist instead of the way she’s playing your body like a fiddle. It’s all-consuming; the pleasure swarms you from every angle, turning your legs to jelly, leaving you at the mercy of the vines that hold you up and Agatha, who keeps you upright with her unrelenting grip over your neck. 

“Come on, pet. Tell me how much you hate this, and I’ll stop.” 

The wet sounds emanating from your sex seek out the deep-rooted shame that lives in the pit of your stomach. It’s the realisation that some sadistic part of you enjoys this that hits you like a ton of bricks, and you want to deny it; deny Agatha the victory points, but your mind and body are bending to her will with the curl of her fingers and another gush of arousal. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Agatha purrs, her hot breath clammy as she bites down on your earlobe. “Your cunt was practically begging for my fingers.” 

All hopes of refuting her statement are stolen by the myriad of kisses and bites Agatha trails down your neck, halt over your pulse point, where she takes the beating flesh between her teeth and marks you with a bruising imprint of her savage affections. At a loss for words, the only thing you can focus on is the maintenance of your restricted airflow. The pace at which Agatha is overturning your body makes it hard to sustain a regular breathing pattern, but you force the minimal oxygen into your lungs and heave it out through crackled gurgles. 

Slender fingers carry you to the edge till all you feel is the pent-up pressure in your abdomen, overpowering the anguish and anger directed towards Agatha. 

The distraction lasts for a brief second. 

Your release is not what floods your body. Instead, there is only searing, blistering pain. Agatha’s fingers, previously nestled within the walls of your pulsing cunt, now lay over your fresh wound, skating through the dark oozing red liquid, pressing into your abused flesh.

It’s one too many times you’ve had to hold in your agony, and this time, you can’t control your blood-curdling scream. It’s not directed at Agatha. Instead, you fling your eyes up to the sky, begging it to produce a single star bright enough to peek through the twisted branches above. 

There is nothing but darkness and gloom and no break from the constant torrent of flooding stimulation as Agatha drops to her knees. The image should have you feeling superior, yet all you feel is the steady thrum of nerves and residual pain, ghastly aware that the older woman is probably the most in control out of the two of you. Even if the way she’s staring at your slickened pussy can only be described as crazed. 

When the first swipe of her tongue glides through your slit, something breaks in you. Your crippling hold on your restraint wavers, and the foundations begin to crack. You know you can hold on, but for how long, you are no longer sure about. Your body is betraying once again, hips cantering forward to push Agatha further into your sex, moaning through your clenched jaw and humiliatingly writhing as pleasure floods every nerve ending in you. 

Agatha buries herself into you, tongue fucking your pussy with scornful ease till you’re hanging on the precipice of another orgasm. Then, she stops again, pulling back with a smug smile and rising to her feet to say, “God, you’re needy.” 

You want to cry, and you want to scream and shout and demand she touch you again. But you can’t. You can’t because that’s precisely what the older witch wants. She wants you pliant and pleading, easy to manipulate in the palm of her hand until she tires of your compliance and gifts you to death. 

It doesn’t make sense. Nothing does anymore. Not until Agatha is back inside you, pulsing her fingers in and out so fast you can barely breathe, hitting spots deep inside you that haven’t been touched in years. You’re screaming, and you’re yelling and screaming and screaming from the ever-mounting pleasure that feels like it will never reach its peak, and the pain—biting, sharp and constant as your muscles tense over and over again, and your limbs wrestle to be free. The presence of your blood is everywhere, shooting through veins, racing in your ears and dribbling down your stomach. It’s heaven and hell, ecstasy and delusion, breathing and drowning all at once. It’s too much. It’s not enough. 

Your fight against the vines keeping you restrained doesn’t go unnoticed by Agatha. She’s dipping her eyes to and from your face to your wrists, trying to figure out something beyond your grasp. The witch maintains her grip around your neck, crushing your wide pipes, and oxygen deprivation is beginning to take effect, but it’s not so all-consuming that you fail to feel the pressure ease around one of your wrists. 

It’s a risk on her part and an opportunity on yours. You can feel the warm allure of your magic dance over your fingertips and the chance to strike with a closed fist and brute force. 

You do neither. 

The trees are becoming blurred, the ground beneath you clouds and your pain a lullaby to your mind's erratic pleas to resist. For once, everything is silent, and in some kind of moronic fucked up sense of gratitude, you move your hand up and curl your fingers over Agatha’s, strengthing her grip over your throat. You can feel your pulse beat between both your fingers, see the pleased smile Agatha is wearing, and hear the beauty in your unrestrained moans of pleasure. Maybe, just maybe, dying like this - after this - wouldn’t be so bad. 

“I need,” you stammer, removing your hand from Agatha’s, placing it on the back of her neck and pulling her forward. It’s bubbling inside you again—the ardent need to cum. It lives in your muscles that are tension-bruised and exhausted. “I need to-”

“Oh, sweetie,” she coos before her lips come crashing down on yours in a demanding kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. 

The roots wound around your body remain the only thing keeping you up, and at Agatha’s behest, they disappear, burying themselves back within the earth, where they belong, leaving the push of her body against yours the only thing that keeps you upright. She takes her role in earnest, removing her hold on your neck to hoist your legs over her hips and keep you steady, continuing to drive deeper into you at this new angle. 

Bark has all but torn through the thin material of your slip, and in an effort to move away from the brittle sting of microscopic splinters, you tangle your arms around Agatha’s neck and lean forward, burying your moans and whimpers into her shoulder. The position would not be far from intimate if it weren’t for the way your body bounces over the fingers fucking into you and the force at which they do so. 

The presence of a thumb is featherlight over your clit, teasing you with its potential. And, of course, nothing comes free. Not when tiny remnants of your dignity remain intact that need removing. You let free a whine, and when that doesn’t work, a meek ‘please,’ and instantly, the older woman’s touch becomes crushing. She’s rubbing quick, consistent circles over the bundle of nerves, fueling the engine that carries and dishes out sparks of pure, unadulterated heat down your spine, filtering through your veins and capillaries till it reaches your head and manifests into burning need. 

You’re being pushed back into the harsh surface of the sycamore tree, yet you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when Agatha’s hand is back over your breast, her mouth on your neck, and you’re on the cusp of a long-awaited orgasm. 

There is no interruption to your peak this time and Agatha revels in every second of it alongside you. She pulls back to watch like you’re a performer, and she’s waited a lifetime to secure a ticket to this show. Every jut of your hips, shake of your jaw and cry from your mouth is reflected back at you in her spangled eyes, drinking you in a breath of fresh air.

You’re so taken by the pull of euphoria you don’t register the heated touch over your breastbone. You can hear your skin sizzling and see the scorched initials of her name when you glance down. Still, all you seem to feel is your never-ending orgasm as the stimulation continues, throwing you headfirst into another release and even then, Agatha doesn’t stop. She’s consumed with the sight of your bliss, hungry to live in it forever as she keeps fucking into you with her fingers, circling your oversensitive clit till it stings, and you’ve got tears swimming in your eyes. 

You’re unsure how long it goes on for, how long she pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you. You’re dipping in and out of consciousness, and with the emergence of every new blacked-out spot obscuring your vision, you’re dimly aware the forest around you is beginning to take on a new life.

Branches are illuminated by the balmy glow of the emerging sun, and the frost coating their exterior thaws under its warmth, turning thin layers of ice into water droplets. Dirt paths littered in corpse leaves are no longer a muddy brown. Now, they are canvases splattered in the tawny colours of autumn. The smattered shades of honey and marigolds are a welcome sight as Agatha pushes your legs off her and leaves you to stand alone, breathless and weak. Dignity was something you lost between the baring of your skin and branding of your flesh, so you allow your knees to buckle beneath you and welcome the soft embrace of dirt. It is kinder to you than bark. 

“What will you do with me?” you ask, keeping your eyes levelled with the changed woodlands. Conviction bleeds through your demand, even if the silent wracking in your chest and the crack of your voice slightly diminishes it. 

“Come,” Agatha beckons. 

You fail to stop a full-bodied shiver from tearing through your body. Its shadow echoes in the clattering of your bones as you look up to see the older woman hovering above you. She’s staring, scrutinising you before coming to a hasty decision. She removes her jacket and crouches down so she’s at eye level, and your straining neck thanks her with a quiet crack. Then, satin material is over you and Agatha’s body heat - still embedded into its lining - sinks through the cold outer layer of your bare skin. 

“Now,” she begins with a quirked brow, slapping her knees as she rises, “up you get.” 

You cringe at the crippling pain that shoots up your legs, but you’ve swallowed your discomfort for too long now to show yourself incapable of doing something so simple as standing. 

“I don’t understand.”

Agatha smiles, delicately tracing a finger over your heart, along marred skin marked ‘A.H’, “You belong to me now, pet.”

Tags: @stayevildarling | click here to be added to my taglist

[velveetacrackncheese]

I know it's been like forever, but are you still a fan of Viv and her work

Honestly when it comes to her, no. Even if there's some things I've learned to appreciate in some of her more recent stuff (Except Hazbin S1, I thought it was genuinely awful and the more I think about it the more disappointed I truly am with it.) my main gripe is that it seems that Viv still treats people like crap. My opinion of her has continuously waned over the years from someone who was obsessed and having had a parasocial relationship with her and her work, to the point where I felt obligated to defend her for the sake of the "fandom" back then. Pretty wack behavior coming from myself honestly, and like I said I was a prick! I treated naysayers and critics of ZP like garbage, and while there was venom being flung towards me and other fans as well, some of it also being cruel and uncharitable, I can't pretend I didn't contribute to the toxic culture emanating from her fanbase. It's very interesting to see that the more modern incarnation of Viv's fanbase is arguably still just as toxic, but on a bigger scale. People no matter where you go, and regardless of when in time, seems to have a strong opinion of her. Either love her to death or hate her to the point where that becomes its own obsession. Well, unless you've actually had a connection with her, it seems like you're either one of her favorites, or someone who she burnt bridges with.

There's of course the genuine non-drama stuff, like ohhhh fuck dude, she drew some weirdo shit which I could honestly care less about. There's reasons to not like her, and it isn't that. It's not even really her work period, but more so allegations regarding how she's difficult to work with, cruel to certain past associates to an almost comical degree, and is still pretty uncharitable to even her most charitable critics. The stuff with KenDraws kinda was the nail in the coffin for me, transphobia is not going to get a pass from me, sorry! I don't know how true this is in particular, but how The Hunicast was treated after the Hazbin pilot also left me with a pretty real sense of disgust. It's wild seeing a show like Hazbin Hotel flourish through A24 and Amazon, all the while trying its damn hardest to cleanse itself of its indie roots. Apparently donations to the Hunicast was used to fund the pilot, and after the pilot it kinda seemed like Viv just didn't really appreciate how much they contributed to that project. Honestly, I don't think Hazbin would be what it is today without The Hunicast.

That, and of course there being all the dollcreep stuff, the way that the fandom at the time wrongfully demonized dollcreep and took Viv for her word to the T, following what was a highly uncharitable read from fans which led to harassment despite the drama between the two being personal, and that being made into a public concern when it reallllllllllly should not have been. Transphobia also being an abundant issue in this regard. JoJo as a character was created as an extremely petty way to bash Jo and in hindsight, is incredibly revolting, and ohhhhh also transphobic. The Erin Frost situation, in which of course featured Viv devotees to also take her testimony as uncharitable and lies despite having never worked with Viv herself. Employees being paid like... what, $35.00 per second of animation which is crazy. So not only a toxic work environment, that toxicity just festering cuz Viv herself is toxic. Her tendency to seemingly just bully the people she surrounds herself with, hell even getting people blacklisted apparently? I'm sure there's a lot more I can get into in all honesty, and what's being mentioned here is barely scratching the surface! There was a point in time where I had agreements with what were, back then, blogs dedicated to critiquing Zoophobia and in hindsight, yes, there was a lot to rightfully criticize. Lot of stuff in that webcomic was genuinely not great and despite the immature attachments that I had back then, there were points I'd openly conceded to. Which led to Viv blocking me, and that led to me being pretty sad! Honestly thought I'd did something wrong or that I like... "Betrayed" her which is fucking insane. It was something I ruminated on for literal weeks. I look at my older posts on here and it's so fuckin clear that I was not mentally stable, at least to me, and that was reflected in the wild ass shit I was saying. I'm glad I've changed but dear god I was such an asshole, and it's crazy to think that I was some kind of figurehead in the fandom at that time. Nobody should've been looking up to me, cuz holy shit I was a stupid teenager.

Also, generally speaking, this doesn't have much to do with Viv as a person as much as the early fan community surrounding her work that existed from like 2015 into 2018, particularly on tumblr, but I'd developed relationships with other people in the fandom that led to some pretty traumatizing experiences for myself and for others that I knew personally. I won't get into details about that, but the culture for the fandom at the time housed some SERIOUSLY sketchy people, and there were people who were just open and active groomers. Zero accountability for any of that btw, yeah awesome fucking community, guys. "Like and Reblog if you're a true fan." jfc.

So uh, yeah. Naw I can't say I'm much of a fan, and I'm not convinced that she's actually some nice, pleasurable person, who conveniently stumbles into situations where her alleged good nature is CONSTANTLY put into question due to actions that are pretty well documented and accounted for. I've still watched Helluva Boss episodes, although at this point it feels like I'm beating myself because I've progressively grown more disenchanted with it as time has passed on. Despite that, it's still Spindlehorse's best stuff. I say Spindlehorse in particular because while I don't really respect Vivienne, I respect the crew who are the backbone of those episodes. Hazbin has some narrative themes that I'm not particularly fond of, the pacing is a mess, and the character writing is not good. Characters have entire musical numbers dedicated to them despite either serving a very minor role in the story or just being absent for the entirety of the season. I'd go on and list my gripes with ZP, but it feels weird to bash something that is nearly a decade old now. Probably doesn't represent Vivienne's current capacity for craftsmanship, visually speaking, and in regards to the writing; Were I to go back and review what those old critique blogs had to say, I'd probably add onto them instead of being as dismissive as I was.

Also, something I can attest to personally, and you'll have to take me for my word on this, but I used to be a $50 patron to her Patreon. One of the benefits was that you got to be a part of her discord server where she'd chat with fans once a month and I got to be in a few of those vc chats. I recall her being petty even then, and if my memory doesn't fail me, there was a time where she like... called someone's older brother a f*ggot because he insulted Kesha and her general preferences in music lmfao. She genuinely got upset and all teary over that confrontation and ended the call early, and the other people in the vc were tryna comfort her. Looking back that now, feels so.... weird. Shit, I mean charging people so they have the chance to just talk to you, monetizing that feels weird, and kinda gross. Wish I could have my money back for that, ngl. No Bueno.

[xagave]

pleasepleaseplease recommend some danphan fics!!

Sorry these are on ff.net I was into danphan before AO3 was really A Thing. Invisobang also just completed and a whole wack of new fics are also now out for your enjoyment so I suggest taking a look there too Lab Rat - Danny (as Phantom) is captured by his parents and vivisected in the lab. THE MOST iconic dp fic from this era of fandom and also the first dp fic I ever read which single-handedly got me into the fandom. I also recommend anything else by this author[sequel]

Pits - Danny is captured by Walker and thrown into the Pits to fight for his life. HANDS DOWN my all time favorite dp fic. I drew a bunch of fanart for it and never showed the author LMAO [sequel]

In The Way - A twisted tale of a summer spent all alone

Wondering - Danny's been captured and tortured by his parents, but he refuses to say a word until his psychiatrist starts connecting the dots. Can he risk keeping it a secret any longer?

Dreams of Light - A cute box ghost fic with a fun twist at the end

Phantom's Sketchbook - Mr. Lancer finds himself in an unparalleled situation, he has access to something which can give him incredible insight into the personal workings of Amity Park's local ghost teen hero, Danny Phantom

Masks - Lancer has had enough of his most enigmatic, frustrating student Daniel Fenton and forces him to stay in detention with him until Danny tells him The Truth. A story examining Danny's relationship with the human race. Another BIG FAVE of mine [sequel]

Darkness - Part 1 of Illuminations saga. [part 2][part 3][part 4] Maddie and Phantom are trapped in the dark and must work together to avoid dying. I don't remember much about this but I do remember it being super creepy and I bulldozed my way through all 4 parts so it must have been good lol

I'm Still Here - Danny's been locked away in a forgotten thermos, buried in the backyard for 70 years. When he's finally released, happy isn't the word he'd use to describe his new life

Real Life - A very creepy take on ghosts and the events of the show, where they're more inhuman, feral, and scary. I don't remember much about this but it's unfinished

Lopeholt - Valerie must survived the night in the third scariest place on earth. **VERY** creepy, I remember reading this in the dark and it gave me nightmares. Another top fave. I def recommend reading anything else by this author

Running to the Enemy's Arms - Danny runs away and ends up on the doorstep of the person who's dead last on his list of favorite people - Vlad. Danny/Vlad father son relationship. A fun and interesting view of what Danny's life would be like had he been the son Vlad always wanted. Incomplete but also another BIG FAVE of mine. Tolerate the first 1-2 chapters and the rest is golden

Checkmate - Vlad forces Danny to leave everything behind in order to save Jazz's life. But just when the billionaire believes to have won his chess game against his young rival, Danny makes a single unexpected move.

A Secret Uncovered - Danny's transformation is caught on tape and now the whole town knows who he is Photoshop - Dash and Kwan find an old class picture and start having a little too much fun on Photoshop. Will someone's secret be revealed?

Chained - It starts with a fire at the Guys in White headquarters, where a vengeful Valerie stumbles across an imprisoned Danny Phantom. It starts with injustice. But what happens when justice and revenge are confused for one another? Where does a hero end, and a villain begin?

Phantom of Truth - Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her subject, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth… except, perhaps, herself [Sequel]

The Soul Sepulchre - Something foul is stirring in Amity Park and it all starts in the bowels of Amity Park's Museum of Natural History

Moral Code - Moral code says to never kill or capture a specimen that you did not weaken yourself. Maddie finds Danny Phantom wounded late at night after a hard battle. After she helps him, she finds there is more to him than she ever thought possible. Mother/son bonding

Connections - Maddie knows that the Booo-merang has keyed into Danny, for whatever reason, so what's she to think when she sees it collide with Phantom? [Sequel]

Isolated - It's just a wish that's been granted with the wrong twist, but for Danny, it's a nightmare that's become reality. He's stuck as Phantom, his family's hunting him, and everyone who can help him is gone

Little Earthquakes - They say that a man is defined by what he does when he thinks nobody's looking. Does the same hold true for ghosts?

Tortured Truth - Danny's parents discover that the ghost boy is half human. Now that they've captured Danny, will he submit to torture and reveal himself, or is the revelation just the beginning of their problems? [Sequel]

Estrelas - AU. Sam's attention is captured by a lonely ghost haunting her grandmother's attic…and discovering his secrets will take everything she has.

Criteria of Life - Every living thing must follow the Laws of Life; however, Maddie wonders if Phantom can somehow follow these laws as well. The fact that he is a ghost is putting a knick in her plans, but what if Phantom can follow the Laws of Life?

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Curious what you'd say about Soap for the character ask game. You haven't really spoken about him as much as the others so I'm curious :O (id love to hear about every single character tho i wont lie to you but i have a feeling you'll get asked about those lol)

@nekrosmos asked for Soap too.

Honestly? There is unfortunately a reason. I lingered around fandom for a good few months before I got involved at all. I saw some behaviour from his fanbase that I didn't like and so I made the conscious choice that he's not a character I'd probably be creating much for. I love the art, happy to support creators, etc. Besides, there are so many delicious, delicious rarepairs to love and create for and plenty of gallant, productive, devoted Ghoapers.

He's quite compelling though, and I've got quite a few thoughts and headcanons, and I'm happy to write prompts with him. A few friends on Discord really love him and I like to create for them too, cause happy friends give me the fuzzies. So, you know, a story idea might grip me by the balls and I'll wack out a long form thing.

favorite thing about them

His journals.

Reading those finally gave me a connection with his character that I hadn't developed previously. But they really show how driven he is, how much he wants to be the best he can be, so he's not a burden, so he doesn't let anyone down. He's constantly striving to earn his place to the point that it kills him in the end.

I think he genuinely struggles with wanting to be liked (as part of 'earning his place'), and I think he is often too much for people. Ghost giving back as good as he gets is a comfortable relationship because the line for Ghost is way, way in the distance; Johnny doesn't have to worry like he does with 'normal' people. Neither of them is fuckin' normal.

Price giving him a chance would have been the first step towards the hero-style worship he has for him. "What? Me? Ye want... me? Aye, aye I will be the best fuckin' dog ye ever had, I will bite my own leg off for ye." Everything Soap does is to prove that Price didn't make a mistake. That he was a good investment. And Price, the sly fucker, knows it. He sees himself there.

least favorite thing about them

I wish they had given him a stronger accent and leaned more into that in the games. In fact, I wish that for all of them.

I also think that Soap has capacity to cause great harm without even realising it. Like, we get glimpses of it; he's nearly court-martialled for punching out a copper. In his single-minded pursuit of something, I reckon there could be a lot of collateral damage.

He lacks confidence but will cover it up by being an arsehole and doing arsehole things (such as smuggling a girl on base to impress The Guys). I say I like "least favourite"; I think this makes him compelling as a character. He's not all sunshine and rainbows. He's just as gritty, professional and flawed as the rest of 'em.

favorite line

"You sick bastard..."

"My kingdom for a suppressor..."

"Price?... This belongs to you, sir."

brOTP

Gaz & Soap

OTP

Uh... none really. Ghost/Soap?

nOTP

Don't have any strong feelings on any.

random headcanon

He's really bad at team sport. He showed no interest in any when he was growing up. Gym? Running? Swimming? Anything where the only competition is himself and his own limits? That's where Soap's head is.

unpopular opinion

Honestly? I don't know which of my opinions would be unpopular. Probably the 'not sunshine and rainbows' one, maybe?

song i associate with them

favorite picture of them

[dragon-chica]

Simon Aumar Courting Headcanons

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

He's just a pathetic little guy, and you like that in a man.

Truly, he tried to "impress you with some magic" the first time you met and he was such a spectacular failure, it was almost charming.

Cute as he accidentally sent himself flying upward in a panic, hitting a tree limb and knocking himself unconscious.

He was not awake to witness your laughing as Holga carried his limp, dirt covered body back to the horses.

Also very charming that he outright asked your permission to court you, with a bundle of wildflowers her spent an hour rooting through for the nicest ones.

He always makes sure to ride or walk beside you so you can talk while journeying.

Is the one to ask you to "officially" join their adventuring party because of your "indispensable skillset we have been utterly lacking"

Not to say this all went smoothly, "cute klutz" can go so far but his pessimism towards everything can grate on your nerves horribly at times. Especially when you try to talk him up and tell him otherwise and he shoots you down on everything.

He is also a pushover and despite complaining about the group making him pay for a round of drinks or dinner, he doesn't actually try to stop it.

Sometimes you'll lightly wack him upside the head for that, and then he wont stop quietly complaining how you wounded him

He is ecstatic and flabbergasted when you actually agree to him courting you, he's not sure what to do. Never thought he'd get this far.

He asks Doric what to do, or more, what he did wrong when attempting to court her.

Edgin unhelpfully praises him during that, telling him to "Learn from you failures, or you'll never stop failing.

"It'll never work out, they're too cool for you." - Holga

"Thank you all for your utter confidence in me, good pep talk from my closest friends."

"We're your only friends."

Simon definitely grows on you though, he's enjoyable to be around for the most part, rather sensible, and rather cute when he smiles as something actually goes right for once.

He truly tries his best while courting you, attempting (failing) to be romantic, showing you he would be a good partner, absolutely floored when you return some of those actions with your own.

He is your personal hype man. Talks you up to anyone there to listen, how good you are in battle, in your skillset, and anything else even if you're really not.

He's a wizard, wizard's are very squishy, and he all but swoons when you protect him in the midst of battle. Successfully hits his target while fully distracted watching at you.

Very flustered and keeps asking the others "You saw that right? They were protecting me, you saw that? What do you think it means?"

"Aren't you already courting?"

Ever the gentleman and will offer you his supplies while camping, from his food to his cloak if you're cold, while he is visibly freezing and already singed the edges with a warming spell.

Instead you offer to cuddle him by the fire *that Holga started* and he's sure the blood rushing to his face will keep him plenty warm, thank you.

Extremely faithful and only has eyes for you, Doric says it's gross and asks how you can stand it. Edgin helps him write a song for you.

He tries to serenade you with it, and it is. Horrid. Clenching your teeth listening to him until he realizes how bad this is going and stops. You try to tell him it wasn't that bad but the chorus of your friends chiming in with their honest reviews-

One day you tell him "I think this courtship is going well." and he falls off the rock he was sitting next to you on.

Love is not mentioning that as you offer him a hand back up. He is feeling GREAT the rest of the day.

"Alright loverboy, calm down." - Holga

He trips and falls on his face.

[firecrackerhh]

Lmao suuuuuure, sure, look I’m not like, personally fucking aggrieved that Hazbin didn’t get a fucking Grammy, but I think insulting the entire fanbase because some people don’t know how nominations work is fucking rude.

Like cmon, man what the fuck is your problem?

Like I’m sorry the fandom is so annoying to you personally but, Christ, the assumption that we’re all blithering retards is kinda unnecessary.

If you’re gonna explain shit at least do it in a not condescending way.

But no, videos like that aren’t for us anyway, it’s for people outside the fandom so they can look down on us for how stupid some of us are, like thanks asshole, like we need a reminder.

“The most cultish fanbase” look I’ll admit maybe this fanbase is a bit too harsh sometimes to critics but like…cmon man, like I’m sorry when you start referring to a fandom as a cult I start kinda not taking the criticism seriously.

Nevermind the fact that the people who actually act that way online, I dunno man, even I think there’s a certain level of admiration for Viv that gets…weird sometimes. But I don’t make a big deal about it because it’s not a big deal.

Fine, so some of us are annoying, hell, I’ll even agree, some fans are fucking wack, I guess I just don’t see the value in poking the bear, cuz all you’re gonna get out of it is fans being rightfully pissy at you cuz of your shitty condescending attitude.

If you get a shitty response from fans after said shitty condescending remarks, well, you get what you give.

[murderenjoyer]

Getting pissed off about the spawn Astarion girlies.

I like spawn Astarion. I like his spawn ending, I think it's soft and gentle and cathartic and cute. I just happen to prefer him ascended. I like his personality more, he's stronger, he's cooler, he's sexier, and I find that outcome to his story more emotionally satisfying.

But god fucking forbid I say that in public. Any time anyone expresses a fondness for AA, spawn girlies jump out of the bushes accusing us of not understanding his story arc, or not respecting his character, or oversexualizing him, or saying we want to be abused irl and we're just stupid empty-headed patriarchal handmaidens that yearn for a tradcon dynamic irl.

What the fuck! You don't see ascended enjoyers yelling at spawn fans about how their preferred video game bf is wack bullshit. We stay in our little corner of the fandom fantasizing about Astarion kicking us in the face. We don't start drama. We don't insist spawn fans are objectively wrong.

So why can't spawn fans just be normal? Go away! Go live your "I can fix him" fantasy and let us AA fans live our "I can make him worse" fantasy in peace!

Not ascending him doesn't make you morally superior or a better fan or mean you understand him or his story objectively better. I just happen to like vampires to be a fucked up evil little guy, and you like them to be a softer gentler redeemed dude. Who cares if we like different outcomes! He's not real holy shit that man is made of pixels. It doesn't matter what I do with him on my personal save file.

We don't need spawn girlies in the comments of every AA post waxing lyrical about "oh I could NEVER ascend him anyone who does that is a bad person blah blah blah" Shut up!! Scroll past!! Fuck off!!

[eddiediazismyhusband]

These people will never experience the pain hearing from the causal viewers and THE SR that we who view those characters as queer, are delusional. We were told, it’s in “our heads” and what you see “is your interpretation” NOT what’s on the script. OH CANT FORGET MY FAVORITE, “go write your own SHOW”. Imagine for 6 years viewing buck as queer coded and told you were dumb and “it’s never gonna happen”. For 6 YEARS!!!! It literally took them ONE EPISODE AND MOVING TO A NEW NETWORK for bibuck to happen. And these people think this couple who ONLY HAD 3 dates (1 of them a failed one), and 2 kisses is endgame? 💀💀💀imagine your ship not having any depth to where they stopped caring about them after making buck bi💀💀💀. Where are their scenes? Oh it’s “enjoy it while it lasts”. It’s them having barely 20 minutes of screen while the “non ship” has x2 has much in 10 episodes. Did they forget their fav said this💀💀💀💀

💯no notes agree with everything you said 👏👏👏

and also even that lfj quote pissed me off when it came out bc i was like “how are you gonna stand here and tell me to be grateful for a relationship that came out of left field with no chemistry?” like even if it does lead to buddie i will still hate that whole arc because it could have been handled SO much better and without bringing back a racist character, played by a problematic person, ON TOP of causing the biggest shipping controversy to ever hit this fandom… that man has given me the ick since day one of s7 and when the cameos started and he started encouraging his fans and egging on the bullshit i was done w him.

it pisses me off bc they act like buck has to go through some sort of “queer bootcamp” before he can date eddie and im like…. no he doesn’t?? he doesn’t need some sort of “gay yoda” or whatever they called t-rex in the beginning bc there is no rulebook to being queer… so the whole notion of “working out the kinks” (which is an extra level of icky coming from someone like lfj, and looking back after the daddy joke in 7x10) never sat right with me… and the whole “what if buck got with eddie and didn’t like it?” if he meant that literally as “what if buck didn’t like it” my brother in christ theses are fictional characters, they’re not sims, the writers have full control over literally everything that happens… why would they write them if buck “wasn’t gonna like it” (which is bullshit bc we all know he 1000% fold immediately if eddie kissed him)… if he meant “what if the fandom didn’t like it” (which is an odd way to word that question if this is what he meant) WDYM IF THE FANDOM DOESNT LIKE IT EVEN HALF THE BT SHIPPERS HAVE BEEN SHIPPING BUDDIE FOR ALMOST SIX YEARS????

the whole situation drives me up s wall bc not only have we simultaneously gotten so close yet so far to getting buddie, we also now have to deal with these wack-ass fans policing people, calling queer people homophobic, sending death threats and violent hate speech to people who don’t like their ship, actively talking bad about oliver bc he clearly isn’t a fan of lfj or the way this storyline was handled, on top of having to deal with the show’s retconning of typhoid’s character and trying to brush his shit under a rug using queerness as an “excuse” and thus enabling these people to use the “homophobia” rhetoric when someone doesn’t want a boring ass rewash basic ship.

[trickstarbrave]

I will give you a shiny quarter if you explain Morrowind to me like I’m five (pretty please)

its is quite difficult given i dont know how complex of topics 5 year olds can understand. but i can try to explain it in the most simple way possible because i explain it regularly to one of my roommates and wife who do not understand elder scrolls lore at all. be warned: this is still gonna be long and weird bc the story is long and weird.

(also excuse the swearing i wouldnt swear like this to a 5 year old)

a long long times ago, some 3000+ years before the game actually starts, there was a dude named nerevar. he made friends with some dwarves (dwemer) who lived underground and united the whole country of resdayn (later renamed to morrowind) to drive out the nords who had taken over. he also had a rly cool ring named moon-and-star, which was magic and let you be really persuasive, but he also enchanted it to kill anyone besides him wearing it so it couldnt be misused. this is relevant later

well he married the queen almalexia and made a big council of important people mostly made up of his buddies. he called it the first council and important people on it were his bestie voryn, his wife almalexia, and two younger friends sotha sil and vivec, along with the king of the dwemer dumac and dumac's mage kagrenac (the dwarves use weird magic with sound. if i go into details this will get very confusing).

for like 200 years because elves live for a long time, everything was pretty alright.

but it turns out the nords were there for a reason. they were looking for the heart of a dead god. the god's name for the sake of the story is lorkhan, but different places call him different things like shor or shezzar. the nords worshipped lorkhan and wanted to bring him back or something (probably, or at least just find it because hey thats their guy). but after 200 years of peace the dwemer found it underground in a volcano they lived in. and kagrenac had an Idea

the idea was to build a really cool really powerful giant robot mecha god (because the dwemer were really steampunk) to protect them. and it would be powered by the heart lorkhan.

voryn, nerevar's bestie, ended up finding out about this and told nerevar "hey the dwemer are up to something weird". and nerevar went "huh? they are?" and went to ask his goddess, azura, who knows a lot of things. azura said "yeah they are. stop them. what the fuck" and so nerevar went to his other bestie dumac.

and nerevar told dumac "hey why the fuck are you building a giant robot god?" and dumac's reply was "nerevar what the fuck are you talking about?" and nerevar, being mad his friend was Lying to him (maybe dumac didn't know. we dunno) because he already had multiple people confirm they were in fact doing that, he told dumac their friendship was over and kicked him off the first council and they went to war.

the details here get fuzzy. the nords showed up and joined in. the dwemer had steampunk robots everywhere. cat people showed up because why not. there were orcs there too. it was a big clusterfuck and there were different accounts of what happened. some people say voryn was fighting alongside the dwarves. some say he was fighting with the nords. some say he was fighting alongside nerevar. its hard to tell.

but most accounts have one thing kind of in common that a lot of the fandom agrees on: kagrenac grabbed their three cool tools to control the heart of a god, banged on it really hard, and then every single dwemer (except for one who was on holiday) vanished in an instant. and everyone was pretty confused by that, not really knowing what else to do. they now had a giant robot, the heart of a god, and 3 tools to wack the heart with to make weird shit happen.

so nerevar, unsure, said "hey voryn watch the tools for me." and left voryn with the tools and the heart. voryn said they should just destroy the tools, but nerevar wanted a few different opinions before just chucking them in lava or whatever. but while he was gone voryn started fucking around with the tools and the heart to see what would happen.

nerevar asked his buddies. almalexia, vivec, and sotha sil said they can use the tools to help resdayn/morrowind. nerevar didnt know if that was a good idea or not, so he asked azura. azura said "fuck no, dont ever do that". so nerevar made his friends pinkie promise him on azura's behalf not to use the tools on the heart.

and then again the accounts get weird here. some say nerevar died in battle against the dwarves/nords. some say voryn killed him. some say his friends (almalexia, vivec, and sotha sil) killed him. but regardless nerevar and voryn died. almalexia, sotha sil, and vivec had the tools. and they decided to use them on the heart and became gods.

this pissed azura off. they pinkie promised. what the fuck. so she made all the elves that lived there into dark elves. almalexia, sotha sil, and vivec became known as the tribunal and said "we dont need you anymore azura fuck off" and became living gods who could help their people and preform miracles! though they needed to take the tools up to red mountain and recharge their batteries on the heart regularly. azura tells them "nerevar will be back one day and beat all your asses" and made a whole prophecy about it called the nerevarine prophecy (reincarnations get the name+'ine' tacked on in the elder scrolls)

also the tribunal destroy voryn's house/family, the sixth great house of morrowind, house dagoth. just destroy it all. kill a bunch of ppl and the others kinda go somewhere else if they lived. because they sided with voryn or whatever and were deemed traitors

a bunch of other shit happens. septim empire rises to the throne. vivec trades the not working robot to tiber septim who makes it work with a bootleg wish version of the heart of a god and takes over. more time passes. its now the third era and its been 3500 years.

the protagonist is a prisoner who is released from their sentence in morrowind because the current emperor wants to use the prophecy to keep a better hold on morrowind politically. the protagonist was chosen because part of the prophecy is being born under a specific astrology sign and not knowing who your parents are. which could be anyone but y'know.

so the protag/nerevarine has to do a bunch of shit and finds out through weird dreams, oh hey, voryn's back. he's calling himself a god and dagoth ur now. asking nerevar to call him back, go grab the tools, and come meet him at red mountain. also maybe get married to or hook up with him or something. nerevarine thinks that's weird and ends up finding out dagoth ur has also unleashed a plague onto morrowind which turns you into scary eldritch monsters. and then one of dagoth ur's minions infects you with it.

nerevarine finds a cure which makes you not go insane and not turn into a big scary monster. but leaves all the cool shit of "you cant catch any other disease" and "you will never age". the never aging and getting diseases thing was also part of the prophecy. cool.

then the nerevarine needs to go to the nomadic ashlanders who live up north where theres a bunch of ash (hence the name) and worship azura (and the two other og gods) and ask all four tribes to name them nerevarine. they all think youre stupid because an outlander (someone not born and raised in morrowind) cant be the nerevarine. but you find an original copy of the prophecy and go "nuh-uh, i can be" and also go find the moon-and-star ring only nerevar can wear. then they go "well shit" and have you go a bunch of quests and then decide you're cool enough to be nerevarine.

then the nerevarine goes and convinces the three great houses you can talk to (the other two are on the mainland) to name you hortator, which is a war lord/classic roman definition of dictator, and it was the title nerevar had. you do some stuff, kill some guys, boom--named hortator.

then vivec hears about this and calls you in and says "well i guess you are the one doing the prophecy huh. look i need you to kill dagoth ur he's dangerous. here's our plan, are you in? i can give you one of the tools of kagrenac, you need to get the other two from dagoth ur's goons, and then kill dagoth ur's weird brothers he has put his power into. then bang on the heart with the tools and cut him off". vivec then teaches the nerevarine how to use the tools.

you can also just like. kill vivec and take the tool. you wont know how to use it tho and if you use it wrong you will take so much damage you die really fast. if you do this you can go to the only living dwarf who also has that disease but hasnt lost his mind and ask him how to use it and he'll be like "UHHHHHH i'll see what i can. fucking do i guess. i didnt make this." and he'll jerry rig it for you.

then you can kill voryn's brothers or not (you'll need to kill at least 2 for the other tools) and then march up to red mountain. dagoth ur will then be like "yo. are you really nerevar?" and you can say yeah or no or idk. and then have a conversation. and then you fight. but after you kill him he's not really dead, so you gotta run up and start wacking that heart while he yells at you to knock it the fuck off. and then he's cut off from the heart, you run away, and he falls in lava and dies.

and then azura shows up and goes "hey thanks man i have some other shit for you to do though". after which you can do some other content or play the dlc.

thats morrowind baby

[eff-plays]

So my problem with AA stans claiming to be "dark romance enjoyers" is that it's uuh. Incorrect.

I'm a fantasy romance writer and I have been in the same circles as dark romance enjoyers and writers. Like full on omegaverse non-con type shit. I don't like it myself and think it's wack, but the reasoning of the people who enjoy it is that they have lingering shame around wanting sex, around purity culture, potentially homophobia with men who enjoy omegaverse stuff, so a bigstrong alpha man who forces them to enjoy something they secretly want is a sexual fantasy to them. They can hold onto that "purity" and "innocence" and not have any shame around wanting sex, because technically someone else is forcing it on them. They can explore that safely within fiction, and don't necessarily want that to happen to them IRL, unless it's within kink scenes etc. And yeah I don't get it, but it is something people do and own doing, and I can't stop them so as long as they're doing it over there, it's none of my business.

But AA fans claim to love the "dark romance" of it, but then turn around and say that no!! He's NOT abusive!! He's NOT going to assault or mind-control Tav, it's NOT an unhealthy relationship, they're EQUALS and he ADORES them and won't disrespect them!! Just look at the backlash to the "kneel" kiss, people who got so mad that Tav looks distraught.

But look at what BW said in the infamous Discord screenshot: it's fine to enjoy the fantasy, but it's not healthy in-universe. The game itself says "maybe you enjoy degrading yourself."

But AA stans looked at that and went "UM NO!!! IT IS HEALTHY!! I'M BEING SHAMED!!! >:(" and "OH POOR BABY THINKS HE'S BELOW US AND THAT'S WHY HE THINKS WE'RE DEGRADING OUTSELVES!!"

And that's where my problem stems from.

An actual dark romance enjoyer would be like "ough yes Daddy Astarion brainwash me and make me your brainless little fuckdolll sex slave and make me take your cummies every day." Not "YAAS BABE YOU AND ME ARE EQUALS AND PARTNERS IN CRIME UWU UWU UWU (ignores all the red flags and pretends they don't exist)!!!"

So like. You claim you enjoy dark romance, but you're constantly, desperately trying to erase the actual, in-game, canon darkness of it. Any hint of it you try to excuse away, or blame on the writers, or say is OOC and wrong.

You whine and complain about "fixers" and "moralizers" and "fandom police," but you yourself are policing the very romance you claim to enjoy by sanitizing it and making it into something more palatable instead of accepting how dark it actually is.

I've yet to see any AA stan have a Tav who's like a brainwashed sex slave, or in an abusive relationship with AA. All of them are just girlbosses who are co-rulers, which leads me to believe you don't enjoy "dark romance," but privilege. That's the thing that gets you off, privilege and power, particularly a priveleged and powerful man putting you on a pedestal and giving you whatever you want, taking care of you, letting you get away with bad things because he has the power to make all your issues go away. (Is this why so many AA stans are also Russian ... who said that)

And that's FINE. But just admit that? Admit that Astarion's story isn't what draws you to him, that you just enjoy the idea of a beautiful man who has power sharing it with you, and AA just happens to have those surface-level traits if you don't engage with or misinterpret the source material. Hell, I'm a villainmancer myself, who's writing a villain origin story for shits and giggles where a girl becomes a war criminal with the loving help of her edgelord goblin king.

But y'all don't do that. And that's the problemo, lads. You made up a story in your head that isn't in the game, you idolize that story, and get mad when people go "Wait, that's not in the game???"