#problematic canons

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

this episode sky rocketed tony collette to the top of my favorite dndad's characters list and i... do not think it should have done that actually

[valtsv]

You allow yourself a moment to indulge in the fantasy of yourself as their chosen companion—their trusted right hand when their own fails them—before the sheer laughable impossibility of anyone finding comfort in such reliance on you clamours and shoves its way to the forefront of reasons why that can never be. You understand this. You truly do. It’s only that—

sketched some scenes from my fic

+ better quality under the cut:

[reidphobic]

trying hard not to get into trouble (but i’ve got a war in my mind) - s. r.

in which your criminology professor is just too tempting. 3359 words.

switch!spencer x switch!fem reader, questionable age gap & power dynamic, mild exhibitionism, authority kink, brief choking, praise, semi-public sex, oral (f and m receiving), mild degradation, no use of y/n

Your bare thighs stick uncomfortably to the plastic lecture hall chair, and you shift in your seat. Still, you focus diligently on the lecture, or, more specifically, on your professor. Dr. Reid is your favourite kind of challenge, a man you can’t have, the kind who won’t compromise his morals no matter how much he wants you — or, thinks he won’t.

You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on you just a second too long, flickers down to your chest before he catches himself. Toying with him is the highlight of your week, coming up with new ways to torture him, push his boundaries as far as you can before he snaps. The semester is drawing to a close, though, and you haven’t quite snared your pretty professor yet, so you’re having to resort to drastic measures.

It’s like he’s deliberately avoiding you, eyes sliding over you as if you’re not even there. You hope that means your barely-there outfit is working as intended. Dr. Reid refuses to call on you to answer a question, stuttering through his sentences and raking his hand through his unkempt curls. You wonder if they’re soft to the touch, if he likes having them pulled, if— Focus. You raise one hand, digging through your bag with the other. When his attention is finally on you, you spout off some stupid question that’s believable enough not to arouse suspicion; he sees right through it, though, knows the ruse.

Out of politeness, Dr. Reid keeps his focus on you as he speaks. His words come out rapid-fire as if he’s trying to escape you before you do any more damage. It only makes him stumble more, and his struggle is frankly adorable. His reaction as you wrap your lips around a cherry-flavoured sucker is audible, a hitch in his breath and a waver in his voice as you smile innocently around the candy. From then, he can’t take his eyes off you, watching your red-stained tongue lap at sticky sugar, fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

You’ve got him right where you want him.

Leaning back in your chair, you smirk slightly, wait to draw his attention. When he meets your gaze, you spread your legs, give him a deliberate eyeful of the tiny scrap of lace between them. At that, you physically see him snap, rail against the constraints of his moral compass, finally, gloriously give in. A thrill skitters up your spine as he stops in front of your desk. “See me after class,” he murmurs, jaw clenched.

“Yes, Professor,” you breathe, licking your lips as your thighs clench under the table.

You linger as your class lets out, carefully reapplying your lipgloss while you wait for the room to empty. When you’re finally alone, you approach his desk cautiously. “You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?” you say delicately, suddenly uncertain — you might just be in for the reprimand of your life, and that’s no fun for anyone.

“If you’ll just come with me to my office,” he says tightly, staring resolutely past you as he stands from his desk. Desire pools under your skin, your every nerve alive with tension as Dr. Reid lets you into his office. The sound of the lock clicking shut falls straight between your thighs — that’s when you know you’ve got him. You sit demurely in his armchair, legs crossed as he puts as much distance between the two of you as possible, standing across the room with his arms folded protectively across his chest. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my classroom.”

You smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” you say, putting on a wide-eyed, naive look you’re sure he won’t fall for. Unconsciously, he steps towards you. 

Dr. Reid’s gaze is unreadable. “Really? That little stunt with the sucker, I— I know what you’re doing, and it has to stop, okay?” he says, and, oh. He’s the one pleading with you.

It makes sense, once you think about it. You know he used to be an FBI agent; a dangerous, high-stress job like that, it’s no surprise he’d want to shut off, hand over the control, be taken care of, entrust his pleasure entirely to someone else. “Why would I stop?” you pout. He’s close enough now that you could reach out and touch him. “I’m having so.” You take Dr. Reid’s tie delicately between your fingers. “Much.” You pull him in gently. “Fun.” You tug sharply on his tie, hard enough that he stumbles, bracing his hands on the arms of your chair.

He lets out a shaky gasp, like he’s expecting you to unhinge your jaw and swallow him whole. “This is… The, uh…” He clears his throat. “The way you’re acting in my class is not appropriate, and it needs to stop,” he says. You’d almost call it firmly, if not for the near-imperceptible tremor in his voice.

You note that he hasn’t pulled away. “I don’t think you want me to stop, Professor,” you murmur. “I think you want me to stop teasing you, and you want me to give you what you want.” Your smile widens the longer he stays silent; searching for the words to refute you, but the lie won’t come. “Tell me what you want, Doctor Reid,” you purr.

“I can’t,” he breathes. “You aren’t… It’s not…”

“Look at me and tell me you don’t want this,” you breathe, catching his jaw so he can’t look away.

His mouth opens, but no words come out, speechless in a way you’ve never seen him. “I… I’m twenty years older than you.”

You grin. “And?”

“I’m your teacher,” he protests, nearly a whine, and oh, isn’t that a delicious sound.

“So?”

“So?” Dr. Reid repeats, incredulous. “I can’t… have sex with you in my office!” he hisses, low as if someone might be listening in.

Your grin only widens, and you pull him down towards you, so close that his breath skates across your lips. He twitches nervously, like you’re close to breaking him, like he’s this close to doing something he’ll regret. “But you want to,” you murmur, cupping his jaw and letting your fingers trace his cheekbone. “Tell me, Professor… When was the last time you had something just because you wanted it, hm?” He shudders, eyes fluttering closed. “I’ll take real good care of you, sir, I promise.”

With a strangled groan, he gives in. The kiss is sudden, harsh like he’s furious with you for pulling him in like this. Soft lips give way to sharp teeth, greedy tongues, slotting together like you were moulded for him. Your hand slides up into his hair, tangling in his curls as you kiss him harder. A moan slips from your lips when you pull away for air, and the sound seems to drive him well and truly into madness. His lips meet yours with a renewed hunger, resting a hand at your jaw when he breaks away.

Spencer (you’ve just had your tongue down his throat, for God’s sake, you’ve earned the right to call him by his first name) strokes his thumb over your bottom lip, gazing down at you with awe and disbelief written across his face. He sucks in a sharp breath when you close your lips around his thumb, lapping at it just like the sucker from earlier. “You’re trying to kill me,” he breathes.

Releasing his thumb with a slick pop, you laugh. “Is that what you think?” You stand up, press your body into his. Spencer nods warily. “You’d know. If I was trying to kill you, I’d do something like this,” you murmur, sliding your hand up his throat and pressing down softly. His eyes flutter closed in surrender, and a filthy, spit-slick grin spreads wide across your lips. “You like that? Good boy,” you say silkily, letting go of his throat as he nods. “You gonna let me take care of you, Professor?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, and when you let your gaze wander away from his flushed face and down his body, your lips part softly at the sight of him straining against his pants. You dip your head to kiss his neck, wishing you could bruise, make him yours, but you restrain yourself.

Rough carpet grazes your knees as you sink to the floor, hands coming up to work his belt open. You kiss him through his pants, slide his zipper down with your teeth. Spencer whines, and the sound sends a pulse of arousal through you. “So needy, sir,” you croon, slowly pulling him free of his boxers. It’s probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen, thick and hard in your palm, drooling precum as you lean in to kiss the tip. The salt taste of him fills your mouth and you moan involuntarily, his hips twitching as you pump his cock slowly.

Hands thread into your hair, but the touch is gentle, reverent, born from need rather than demand. Not that you’d say no to his manhandling you, but you get the sense that’ll take some time. “If you want something, it’s polite to ask,” you tease, holding Spencer’s hips when he tries to fuck into your hand.

“Fuck, please,” he hisses, and the obscenity slides deliciously up your spine. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so gorgeous down there. I want you so badly, I just— please?” Spencer whines, and he sounds so sweetly pathetic that you take pity on him, wrap your lips around his head. The moan that falls from his lips is made of pure lust, and you shiver, arousal dripping between your thighs.

You suck and lick at him, eager and teasing, moaning as the taste of him fills your mouth. Spencer trembles with the effort of holding still, not fucking up into your mouth, and his hands unconsciously tighten in your hair. “You can be a little rougher, if you want,” you say, sliding your palms up his clothed thighs and taking him in your mouth again. You moan around him as his cock bumps the back of your throat, swallowing a gag with practiced ease.

Spencer’s hand curls into a fist in your hair, your stomach clenching in anticipation. The gentle sting when he tugs just a little buzzes under your skin, and you moan enthusiastically around him, hollowing your cheeks and taking him even deeper. “Fuck,” he whines, hips jerking forward until his cock bumps the back of your throat. Heat throbs between your legs as he twitches on your tongue, and you can tell from the sounds he’s making that he’s close. 

You double your efforts, pulling off to lick around his head and drip spit along his length. Arousal throbs in your belly, hips grinding down against nothing. Slowly, you take him all the way back in, moan low in your throat when he’s buried to the hilt. You trace your tongue across the vein throbbing on his underside, and Spencer lets out the sweetest, most desperate little whimper you’ve ever heard. “I- I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, fuck, baby, oh, my God,” he gasps, needy and adoring.

His voice trembles as he begs, so soft you’re not sure he knows he’s speaking aloud, and the way he pleads your name, fuck. Time blurs around you, your head goes hazy, pleasure knotting itself deliciously around your insides. Spencer gives a strangled moan, a garbled sound that might be your name, and that’s all the warning you get. You swallow greedily as he spills on your tongue, twitching and moaning and praising you through short, gasping breaths.

He’s still twitching with the aftershocks as you pull off, kneeling to smile blithely up at him. Spencer’s eyes are wide, sparkling with adoration as he struggles for breath. “How was that, Professor?” you tease. “Do I get an A?”

He gives a groaning sort of laugh, pulls you to your feet. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, still gazing into your eyes. It’s disarming, and you get the distinct impression he can read what you’re thinking as plainly as if it were stamped on your forehead. “Come here, come on,” he adds, pulling at your hips and pressing your body into his. You’re almost shocked when he kisses you, hard and greedy and hungry, the most aggressive he’s been this entire time. He sanitises his damn desk three times in a class, for God’s sake — you’d half expected him to hand you a toothbrush when you stood from the floor.

And yet, he’s kissing you breathless, and his hands are tangled in your hair, and his body is pressed so close to yours that you can barely tell where you end and he begins. “Thank you,” he mutters against your lips. “That was incredible. You’re incredible. You’ve gotta let me— Come here, sit,” he says, guiding you to sit on his desk. You balance between scattered papers, an uncapped pen bleeding a black stain into your skirt. 

“Let you do what, Doctor?” you say, quiet and breathy, gazing up at Spencer with wide, adoring eyes.

Spencer smiles, and something warms in your chest at the sight. Long, delicate fingers trace along your thigh, push up your skirt until your panties are on full display. “Pretty,” he remarks, maddeningly casual. “Did you wear these for me?”

“Of course, sir. I don’t dress up for boys anymore.” You swallow, bite your lip. You decide to lay it on a little thicker. “See, I need a man.”

“Is that so?” Spencer murmurs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Your heartbeat quickens, excitement throbbing between your legs as he drags them down. “Look at you, sweet girl. So wet. Is that all from sucking my dick?” he teases, and you shudder.

You don’t know where the sudden obscenity, sudden dominance came from, but it thrills you all the same. “Mhmm,” you murmur. “What are you gonna do about it?” Smirking, Spencer picks up your panties, lets them dangle from his fingertips, red lace starkly incongruous from the calm, studious background of his office.

After a beat, his grin turns wicked and he tucks them into his pocket. “Safekeeping,” he says, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. The movement is so tender that it stops you in your tracks, a shimmering thread of something more than simple desire stringing between you. His eyes glitter, and you know he feels it too. Then, long fingers start to work at the buttons of your blouse. “I want to see all of you,” Spencer says, bending his head to kiss your lace-clad breast as your shirt falls open.

His hand skates up your thigh, oh-so close to where you need it. “Please,” you breathe. “Please, sir. I need you.” Spencer draws his hand away and you whine pathetically, your bare thighs suddenly impossibly cold.

“Be patient, sweet girl,” he says, low and almost dangerous. A thrill skitters up your spine as he sinks to his knees, gazing intently at your dripping wet core. “Beautiful,” he mutters, so quietly you don’t even think he’s talking to you. His hands slide up to your thighs again, spreading them apart gently. “Are you gonna let me taste you, beautiful?”

You nod frantically, cunt fluttering at his words. He kisses the inside of your knee, works his way down your thigh. A brief, bright spark of pain flickers through you as Spencer sucks a bruise into your skin and you moan. A rush of incredibly gratifying heat washes over you when you realise he’s marking you; a hidden little secret lying just beneath your polished exterior. Spencer won’t be able to see anything else when he looks at you. 

He pulls away from his assault on your thighs to look up at you, doe-eyed. “Tell me you want this. Please. I need to hear you say it.” You shudder, closing your thighs around his head and threading a hand into his curls so he can’t drag himself any further away.

“Spencer,” you moan. His eyes blow wide at the sound of his name from your lips. “Please. I need you,” you breathe. “Need you to make me cum, sir, please. Haven’t I been good for you? Don’t I deserve it?” You bite your lip to muffle a scream when Spencer leans in, licks a broad, flat stripe along your soaked core.

He’s methodical, at first, and you know somehow that he’s carefully cataloguing your responses. His tongue flicks over your clit, slow at first and then faster, pressure mounting between your thighs. Spencer moans into you, shifts his hips, and you realise: he’s getting off on this. A jolt of arousal so strong you literally pulse against his mouth rips through you, and you feel his lips curve into a smirk.

Big, soft hands dig hard into your thighs, pulling you flush against him like he could bury himself in you. “You taste so good, baby,” he whines, pressing his tongue flat against your hole as you grind your hips forward. Pleasure curls under your skin, swelling and pressing against your organs, crowding your mind until you can’t think, can’t feel anything but him. Your toes curl in your shoes, stomach clenching as your orgasm builds and builds. Breaking away, Spencer presses tender little kisses to your inner thighs, licks soothingly over his bite mark. 

Just as you’re starting to whine at the loss, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit. Sudden, electric ecstasy shoots through your body when he sucks on your sensitive nerves and it’s all you can do not to scream his name for the entire campus to hear. “Oh, fuck,” you whine instead, rocking your hips in a frantic, desperate rhythm. “M’so close, sir, please— You gotta let me— fuck!” you gasp, cunt clenching as he slides two fingers into you. You’re so wet that it’s easy, a slick slide as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Look how well you take me,” he says, staring openly at the point his fingers disappear into your body, your greedy cunt parted around them as wet, obscene noises fill the room. He kisses your clit softly and your legs kick out. “You’re gonna look so pretty taking my dick, hm?”

Your mind goes blank, pleasure thudding sickly in your throat, humming in your ears. “I want it,” you whine. “God, I want you to fucking— mmm— bend me over this desk ‘n— fuck— make me all stupid for you. Oh, God, Spencer, m’so close!” you cry, tugging at his hair and writhing helplessly.

“Go on, pretty girl,” Spencer says, softly urging. “Cum for me.” He pumps his fingers, licks at your clit, gently coaxes you over the edge. Your hands white-knuckle the edge of the desk as pure pleasure washes over you. Your body slumps, weak and powerless against the weight of your orgasm ripping through you. Spencer doesn’t let up, smiling into you as you write above him, murmuring soft praises that fade into a low buzz against your pulse hammering in your ears.

Spencer’s lips and chin glisten with your arousal, still kneeling between your legs as you struggle back to your body. “That was… Shit, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand,” you giggle, testing your weight as you shuffle off his desk. Spencer leans down to kiss you, and the taste of yourself on his lips is dizzying. Pouting, you glance up at the clock hanging over his door. “I have class.”

As much as he wants to, Spencer won’t tell you to cut class, and you both know it. “Would you like to, uh…” He clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and just like that, he’s back to the sweet, nervous academic you’re used to. “Continue this discussion later? I’ll— I’ll be here all day.”

Your lips stretch wide in a saccharine smile as you slowly button your shirt. “Why, Doctor Reid, are you asking me to meet you after hours? How scandalous,” you giggle, pressing a soft, near-chaste kiss against his lips. “I’ll be back at six.”

[mikurinkuwu]

Low-key wish you could just draw wholesome stuff between these two characters but you want to draw the sixteen year old feeling up the almost naked fourteen year old but who cares I know you don’t keep doing what you’re doing who cares anymore.

anon with all due respect, fuck off

[mayor-david-prentiss]

i think it's kinda insane that warhorse lets you observe henry seeing the deepest moment of intimacy in the game between ištvan and erik. and that at the possibly most impactful and emotional moment for henry, high in that tower where hes supposed to kill the man hes been dreaming of killing for weeks, he can still stop to ask if what he saw was love.

[hexhomos]

Ambessa somehow Being Aware of jayvik shit is so intriguing to me tbh, especially when I remember how in s2e1 that chembaron lady taunted Jayce with “isn’t it awful to lose a loved one?” like sksksks what is going on

I WAS LAUGHING HARD AS FUCK WHEN THAT HAPPENED the yaoi drama in ep1 of this season was kind of hilarious. you just know ambessa was swirling her wine and being like these stupid faggots......... (chuckle)

[ghostatrandom]

Stupid dynamic idea I had during the day

Are looker and Anabel retired in my timeskip? Honestly idk cause my theory and headcanon right now is that PLZA takes place 13 years after the events of xy (which makes Emma 28 in my AU) sooo can you retire at like, your 40's???? Idk but they go to less missions at least, that's my excuse

[chaosxcrushed]

Something something, sometimes the CRK fan base is too serious/protective over some ships, especially PureLily! Just saying that if you do not like another person's taste in ships, don't make your reasoning for it be “because it's not canon”

This mostly goes to the PureLily shippers. As much as we love the ship, it's not canon. In fact, we'd argue that ElderLily has more canonical romantic undertones

Bonus!! Even though we don't ship romantic ShadowVanilla

[silverbriseis]

99% of tomarrymort antis are so hilarious like whenever theyre complaining about how ""bad"" and ""immoral"" the ship is, they always point to the age difference and not... the murders😭😭😭 Tom literally murders Harrys parents and orphans him, attempts to murder everyone he knows then tries to take over the wizarding world all while ALSO attempting to murder him— so I feel like there's a very more obvious pressing issue here then their unrealistic age gap😭😭😭It's like those ppl complaining about hannigram and making top 10 lists about how problematic it is yet the fact that Hannibal is a cannibal and murderer never made it onto the lists😭😭😭

[just-null]

i would love to see mitsuri in your art style! im not sure if you post girls to often but i saw you drew daki and thought i'd ask! anyways have an amazing night or dayy!!!

LOVE BEAM CANON

i dont draw women often but i do enjoy the moments when i do, it's very fun!! i really like mitsuri. she scratches the dumb strong airhead with a good heart character type that i adore.

a bonus kimetsu gakuen meme except the version where MY BOYS ARE THERE.

[og image under the cut!]

[ayingdidi]

In my opinion, redemption for Jiang Cheng's character is impossible. It’s odd how most discussions about his potential redemption always solely centre around his relationship with Wei Wuxian.

While it’s true that Jiang Cheng wronged Wei Wuxian, his biggest crime isn’t his treatment of Wei Wuxian—it’s the massacre of the Wen Remnants. His redemption shouldn’t just be centred around his relationship with Wei Wuxian, it should focus on the Wen Remnants, who were brutally slaughtered under the siege he led.

Making peace with Wei Wuxian doesn’t erase the much larger moral crime of leading a massacre against innocent people. True redemption should be about confronting the full extent of one’s wrongdoings, and in Jiang Cheng’s case, that means dealing with the massacre, not just his wrongdoings against Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng never reflects on the massacre, expresses any regret for the innocent lives lost, or takes responsibility. For Jiang Cheng to even have a chance at redemption, he’d need to show real remorse for what he did to the Wen Remnants—and honestly, I just don’t see that ever happening.

[acourtofthought]

"But it was Elain's fault too!"

How did Elain enter the Lucien vs Az drama? Can there not be a single post where someone doesn't feel the need bring her name into the conversation just to drag on her?

The initial argument was some accusing Lucien stans of "applauding" his rakish ways (nobody does that) while then claiming Az's behavior in the bonus was problematic (it was, hence why Rhys was pissed). But somehow, some also need to put Elain's name into the conversation because the fandom can never just discuss the male characters and leave it at that.

Between Elain and Az, which character is currently asking something of Lucien?

If memory serves, it is Azriel who personally asked Lucien to permanently station himself in the Spring Court to be their eyes and ears. Azriel who gathered information from Lucien on the Autumn Court.

Memory does not serve Elain asking Lucien for a single thing. Would it be nice if she talked to him about their bond? Absolutely! Is she required to talk to him about their bond? Nope, he hasn't talked to her about their bond either. Bond or not she is a free agent and if you're going to say she's in the wrong for deciding to kiss someone then you're basically saying she has no choice but to be with Lucien just because they were given a bond neither asked for.

Az is also a free agent but why, when he's the one who is asking Lucien for HIS help to provide information to HIS court would he decide to say "Fuck that guy, he doesn't deserve his mate and even though I don't want a real future with her, I'm going to hook up with her anyway." You can say Az can also do whatever he wants but this is where the gentlemen conversation comes into play because a true gentlemen would not do that to someone else, especially not someone he is asking something of. Azriel and Lucien have business dealings with one another whereas Elain is actively trying to have no dealings whatsoever with Lucien at this point.

And if Elain is asking nothing of Lucien, has zero expectations of Lucien then why should we blame HER for Azriel's actions on Solstice? She didn't force him to reject her. She did not force him to flippantly declare he'd kill an ally to the NC. She did not force him to say Lucien would never be good enough.

We don't love that both Elain and Az wanted to kiss (or more than that for him) but the kiss was not the problem. It doesn't surprise me though that some walk away thinking "sex" is the most important conversation to be had. It's the attitude that Az had about Lucien that is the issue and the way he handled (or did not handle) everything with Elain afterwards. The only thing Elain has ever said about Lucien is that she doesn't want a male or a mate, she has never said anything disrespectful about who he is as a person or his worth.

But Az being an ass to an ally, not showing respect to another males mating bond when he himself is so desperate for one then expecting Lucien to continue giving him the information the Inner Circle counts on? Yeah, it's ok to make this an "Az" thing and not try to absolve him by once again blaming a female instead. Yes Elain is an adult but there is a huge difference between 24 and 500 plus. There is a huge difference between someone who is VERY new to this world versus someone who has lived it for centuries. And there is also a very big difference between Elain trying actively not to engage with Lucien versus Az who is actively asking Lucien to rearrange his life in order to help the Night Court out while he then turns around and has no remorse for wanting to bang his mate while barely blinking at the thought of killing him.

[sonik-kun]

Nah, I'm sorry, but Jiang Cheng did NOT consent to receiving Wei Wuxian's golden core. If he did, that scene wouldn't have been as big as a surprise for not only us as the readers but also JC himself.

That scene was a MASSIVE plot twist. It wouldn't have been had JC consented or demanded that WWX hand over his core to him.

Not only that, if it was all completely consensual, WWX and the Wen siblings wouldn't have had to have kept that secret hidden from JC and the rest of the world for all those years. It would have become public knowledge. And who knows, it may have even paved the way for future core transplant surgeries. But it didn't. Because it was kept in secret and it was kept in secret for a reason.

Because Jiang Cheng would have never agreed to it.

Jiang cheng was lead to believe that he would get HIS OWN core back from Boashan Sanren. He was never told it would be a core transplant. He was lead to believe he would be receiving a new core of his own. Especially since this Boashan Sanren was a fabled woman, known for her inhuman abilities.

Why else would WWX mislead JC up the mountain, blindfolded, and told him to pretend that he was WWX? He did so because he knew that JC would never consent to Wen Qing experimenting on him, on top of removing WWX's core and putting it into his own body.

WWX knew that JC would NEVER agree to that, that's why he made the whole thing up.

So whilst WWX and the Wen siblings were acting within JC's best interests, it was still nonconsenual. He didn't agree to that surgery. Your idea of medical consent is completely skewed if you think otherwise.

Patients always have the right to withdraw consent and reject treatment. And they should always be made aware of what treatment and surgeries they will be receiving in order to accept or reject said treatment.

So yes, by modern medical law standards, it was nonconsenual surgery.

For the sake of fiction and it being in an ancient setting, I'll let it slide and not apply such logic here in WWX's case. But if we're really going to go there and argue the ethics behind it, I'll stand here and say that it was completely nonconsenual, and JC had every right to be upset by it. Especially since said surgery cost WWX his life, which JC was more than willing to sacrifice his OWN LIFE for.

[screamlet]

idk kinda feeling backed into a corner by post-finale fanon with like..... What Mature Grown Buck Would Do in His Grief. but, hear me out - unhinged grief-stricken abandonment-fueled "if you want to stop me you'll have to catch me first and i know you won't bother to chase me" behavior in the worst year of his life. idk!!!! what if he gave into his worst impulses and did unwise things!!!! gave himself things to REALLY cry about!!!!

[hadideedee]

I would just like to say, to any avemuji/bandori fans that struggle with moral scrupulosity or engaging with media that has/alludes to problematic elements;

You are not a bad person for enjoying said media. You are not a bad person if you don’t feel any particular way about something having problematic elements.

Obviously if it makes you really uncomfortable please take a step back and do what you need to do to make yourself feel better (blacklist tags, log off, etc.), but don’t feel like you have to completely purge yourself of something that you find entertaining/comforting just because something in it is a bit unsavory. All types of media and art dabble with darker themes.

You’re not a bad person for being interested in things, I promise.

[neunhofferart]

what is the age gap between the Broker and Brooklynn? I’m just curious how old the broker is and how long she’s been doing this dinosaur trading venture

Mmhm, of course hehe.

This is a very funny question to me because I remember having this discussion about Santos' age with some of the other storyboard artists back when there was talk about leaning into more of a Killing Eve angle with her and Brooklynn (the final decision on how far we leaned into that was not our decision to make, I will note), and whether or not fans would find an age gap between them 'problematic' if we did lean into it too far LOL.

Because Dichen Lachman was TECHNICALLY around 39 or 40 when Dominion was filmed and took place... but I honestly have no idea if SANTOS is supposed to be that age, as well. Dichen's just got that really ageless look. If you told me Santos was in her late 20s to mid 30s I'd believe it just as easily.