#‘im fine im here but you need to go out and identify the body and have it moved to the funeral home’

[daxromana]

do you ever think about the logistics of Clara’s death, like where was her body found, what was the official cause of death, where did they bury her? did they hold a memorial at coal hill? did her students get a long term substitute for the rest of the school year? twelve was too busy trying to make her not dead to help address any of that, so how do you think everyone made sense of her body randomly turning up dead in london? especially since her family had no idea about the tardis (unlike brian or jackie or sylvia). what did courtney think?

idk i’m thinking about all the unanswered questions and the decision to bury her next to her mother and her father collecting her personal stuff from her classroom and then two weeks later she shows up on his doorstep alive and whole and totally untouched.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!

im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3

Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.

He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.

His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.

When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.

The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.

Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.

"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.

"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.

"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.

"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.

"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.

You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.

"Where are you right now? Home?"

"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"

"I'll be there soon."

He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.

Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.

He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.

He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.

Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.

He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.

You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.

You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.

Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.

You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.

He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.

When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.

"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?

"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.

"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.

"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."

He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.

You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.

"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.

"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."

You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.

"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"

He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.

"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.

Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.

He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.

It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.

Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.

Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.

"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.

Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.

"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.

"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"

"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.

You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.

"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."

"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.

"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."

Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.

"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.

"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.

"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

going to format this like a reddit post because it’s the only way. i (transmasc) don’t know if i’m sexually attracted to the girl (transfem) im having sex with. i’ve known for a while that i’m asexual and fuck for fun, and when i see my friend who i’m fucking, i don’t have any immediate overwhelming desire to have sex with her, unless we’re like, in the moment yknow? like i totally forget that it’s even an option bc i could just sit there and talk to her for hours as my friend bc i love (platonic) her dearly and we have a lot of stuff in common. my only quip is that like, is that sexual attraction ???? being in her bed and having our hands on each other and kinda feeling it then? but not at other times? is sexual attraction constant?? maybe im bisexual and aromantic. or maybe i’m regular bisexual and i just dont like romantic relationships. makenzie why are human minds so goddamn difficult to parse the emotions of? i want to be her friend but im confused by my emotions towards her. how am i consistently having sex with someone im not literally sexually attracted to? and liking it? i mean that kinda has to be sexual attraction right? idk. help girl (gender neutral)

hi anon,

have a seat. drink some water. take a deep breath. we're wildly overthinking this.

what you call yourself - asexual, aro bi, bi but not into romance, whatever - that doesn't actually matter.

here are the things I'm worried about here: are you feeling at all pressured or coerced here? given the choice would you want to stop having sex with this person? do you feel comfortable setting boundaries and saying no when you have sex? you don't need to be overcome with raw sexual yearning for your sexual buddy, but do you enjoy and look forward to having sex with her? is this a positive experience for you?

it's fine to have sex even if you don't walk around thinking about it drooling like a horny cartoon wolf, whether it's because you're asexual or just allosexual without a particularly vigorous sex drive. (the line between those things can be pretty blurry and is pretty up to you to define, by the way.) sex can be fun and feel great; it's fine to want to do that even if you don't have a longing in your loins for it.

think of it this way? I don't particularly like most vegetables, but I like how my body will feel when I eat them, so I make a point of doing that as much as I can. and when I cook them they'll usually come out pretty tasty, and I'll enjoy or at least fell neutral about them. and still doesn't mean I like vegetables, or at least I don't particularly identify as someone who likes vegetables, but I did. eat those vegetables.

the sex is vegetables.

I can't tell you if this is sexual attraction. but also it doesn't matter very much as long as you're being safe and having fun.

[kogaan]

hey i saw you post that the only thing that makes you a woman is being female... so a woman can use her/him pronouns, and a 'male' name, and pass as a man, and still be a woman? if so, awesome!! im fine with you classing me as a woman if the definition of woman other than "can bear children" is non existent

so based off your profile and pinned post, i can only assume you aren't an adult. if i'm wrong i do apologize. you and your tumblr just kinda remind me of myself at 14-17!

since i believe you might be a bit younger, the only thing i'm gonna tell you to do is to focus on your education, your hobbies, and your RECOVERY most of all. many things in life will fall into place as time goes on and it will matter little if other people see you as a man or woman. i think maybe you want to be seen as a person, and your needs aren't being met. i truly sympathize with you! i felt the exact same way.

yes, a woman can pass as male and perform masculinity perfectly and still be a woman... dressing like a man and having a man's name etc. is not what makes a man a man. it doesn't make a woman or girl a man, either.

i think if you truly read my post you're referring to, you'd know that i know "woman" absolutely does not simply mean "can bear children". obviously that isn't entirely accurate. a more accurate statement would be something like "women, not men, are the ones with the ability to bear children, even if an individual herself cannot".

my point was that women and girls are those of us born female (or maybe you'd rather say "assigned female at birth". same thing either way, i guess) and our femaleness does not limit anything about ourselves. a woman can wear whatever she wants, including traditionally masculine clothing. a woman can go to a men's barber and get a men's haircut. she's still a woman. any amount of surgery, hrt, name changes, wardrobe change, personality changes, etc, will not magically or scientifically or spiritually turn a woman into a male. you are born female and will be female until long after you are dead. it's not how you identify, it's what you are.

and that's a good thing! being a woman is amazing. unfortunately society is extremely misogynistic and pretty much sexualizes us from birth. but the best thing you can do for yourself as a young woman is to take care of yourself! embrace your body because your body is you. it's all you've got! you don't have a male soul, you don't have a male mind, you don't have a male personality, you don't have a male body. that's impossible. you're a woman! and that means no limits! being female does not limit you! it does not mean you have to be feminine, it does not mean that when you conform to male standards that you are male. it means you're you, you're a woman/girl, and that's wonderful!

womanhood isn't something you can take comfort in. it's not something you can identify into/out of. it's not being totally feminine and wearing makeup and dresses and having long styled hair and being submissive to men. womanhood is being a woman. and a woman is an adult human female.

i know you might be dealing with a lot of trauma and stress rn so don't even respond to this. just read it carefully! and please be yourself, give yourself some grace, work on your recovery - at least, don't die; there is only time to recover if you are alive. i understand that some days it takes a lot of strength to simply remain here. 💗💗💗

[practically-an-x-man]

Angst prompt-

"I don't care if it's the only way, we're gonna find another option. You do not get to sacrifice yourself today."

Ooooh I've got a cool idea for Kestrel with this one!

____ Locked Away

Word Count: 2.9k Content Warnings: mentions of capture, mild body horror, loss of identity ____

The mission was going well.

Up until they hit a colossal roadblock.

"Pay to pass." the man insisted, despite all of Warren's efforts to reason with him, "No money, no passage."

Halfway through the mission, they'd stumbled into a broker of magical creatures. The property he owned with his shop - likely used for managing the larger creatures and keeping fairies from turning into imps - also happened to be the only way forward.

"Listen, please," Kestrel tried, "We're on a very serious time crunch here. We don't have time to go back and get the money. Let us pass, we'll complete our mission, and we'll pay you back at the end of the week."

The broker laughed, a singular harsh bark.

"There's a changeling's tricks if I've ever heard it."

Kestrel bristled at the words. They floundered for words for far too long - how had he just guessed? It was their greatest secret, and they knew that they'd done nothing to give it away in the brief conversation they'd had with the broker so far. Neither had Warren. Or Kendra. Or Seth.

The only possible explanation was that the broker was equally magical himself. He must have had some means of sensing it - perhaps he'd had some sort on spell cast of himself or his shop, meant to identify any nearby magical creatures for use in his trade.

"It's no trick," Warren jumped in, trying to recover the situation, "We're honorable people. All of us. Maybe we can leave you with some kind of collateral - some way to prove we'll come back with the full amount."

The broker seemed to think this over for a minute. His eyes flicked across their party, but paused a hair too long on Kestrel. Something cold slithered up their spine at the expression on his face.

"Well..." he said, "They say no trader's ever managed to capture a changeling. If I were the first... yes, I could consider that passage for the rest of your party."

Warren blanched as soon as the words had left the shopkeeper's mouth. Almost unconsciously, he stepped a little closer to Kestrel. His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for them, to protect them from this newly-unveiled threat.

But Kestrel frowned.

"We'll discuss this." they said, promptly steering Warren and the kids to the other end of the shop. Once they were out of earshot, Kestrel gathered the group of them into a makeshift huddle.

"We should do it," they argued. Warren shook his head and reached to clasp their arm.

"Absolutely not."

"It's the only way through, and the only payment he'll take. You need to finish the mission."

"I don't care if it's the only way, we're gonna find another option," he insisted, a note of restrained fear clogging his voice, "You do not get to sacrifice yourself today."

"Hey, hey, it'll be okay," Kestrel said, taking his arm from their arm and giving it a comforting squeeze, "It'll be fine. He holds onto me for a couple days, you complete the mission, trade Nero for some gold and come back for me. The worst that happens is that he brags about being the first to catch a changeling, and I sit on the floor for a few days."

"I can't let you-"

"Warren. We need to finish the mission. It's the only way forward," they concluded, then popped up on their toes to pull him into a kiss. They pulled back quickly, doing their best to stifle a sigh, "It'll be fine. I promise."

Before he could protest, they turned and walked straight up to the broker.

"Well done," Kestrel said, sarcasm dripping from every word, "You've just caught yourself a changeling."

____

They were given a chain, clamped around their ankle and securing them to the wall at the far corner of the shop. It didn't take much inspection to find out that it was enchanted - it shrank and expanded with them, making it impossible to escape through shapeshifting. Clearly the broker knew what he was doing. Either he'd caught other shapeshifters in the past, or his desire to capture a changeling was far from a spur-of-the-moment wish.

Kestrel sat on the floor, propped against the wall with their legs stretched out in front of them. Hours had passed since the shopkeeper granted passage to Warren, Kendra, and Seth, and so far the worst Kestrel had come across was a backache and a bit of mild boredom.

At one point, the broker brought another person in. Kestrel hardly paid attention. It didn't matter. He was another in the magical creatures trade, they were sure, just someone the shopkeeper could share his insufferable peacocking with.

"Look at this," he said with a grin, gesturing at Kestrel, "I'm the first in the world to capture a changeling."

"How are you defining capture?" they cut in, before the second man could respond.

"Excuse me?"

"You're claiming to be the first to capture a changeling, right?" Kestrel said, with a casual tilt of their head, "So... is capture the chain? Or is it just being bound to one place- or one person?"

"What does it matter, beast?"

"I have a name."

"One you won't share." The broker pointed out, lifting an eyebrow at them, "I'm aware of the concept."

"You can call me Kestrel. It's better than beast," they responded, careful to keep their voice neutral even as vague discomfort began to twist through their chest, "And as for the capture... you're really not the first. I've been 'bound' to the same cabin on a hidden preserve for three and a half years now. I've been bound to the same person for well over five. And-"

A sly grin pulled at the corners of their mouth. Their dark eyes sparked with mischief.

"I can't say he hasn't tied me up before."

That got a scoff from their captor, alongside a look of veiled disgust. The second man looked vaguely amused, almost smug. Kestrel had the impression that these two were rivals in the trade.

"Alright, changeling." the broker hissed, "Why don't you show my friend something interesting? Transform."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Kestrel drawled, leaning their head back against the wall behind them, "No."

"You don't eat until you transform."

"Is that meant to be a threat?"

"Transform. Now."

"No thank you."

"I think I'd better go," the broker's friend jumped in, already beginning to wander back towards the front door. The shopkeeper's expression darkened with every step he took.

He turned that expression on Kestrel, just for a moment, and a chill ran up their spine.

They'd made a monumental mistake.

____

Warren walked into the shop, a bag of gold clutched in one hand. It had taken him almost a week to collect the gold. Bartering with the cave troll had gone south, and collecting the money through other means took three times as long. His heart ached in his chest at just the thought of Kestrel, captured here for far too many days.

"Ah, I had a feeling I'd see you again!" There was something smug in the broker's expression, a broad grin laced with unpleasant darkness.

"I want my changeling back." Warren demanded, lifting the bag of coins, "I have the money."

"Of course," the broker agreed, with the same twisted smile. He lifted a hand towards the back of the shop, "It's right over here."

The creature at the end of the chain was not Kestrel. Warren knew that from a glance. They shifted wildly, their form hardly remaining still for a moment. He caught sight of a dozen animals, some real and some not, but none were familiar. He found himself watching for ginger hair, rusty feathers, Kestrel's dark eyes, even so much as a flicker to prove they'd still held onto themself...

And there was none. Their form just kept changing, so quickly it made his eyes ache.

"You bastard-" Warren growled, whirling on the shopkeeper, "What did you do?"

"I," the broker responded with a terrible smile, "Have become the first person in history to effectively break a changeling."

For a moment, Warren's expression was downright murderous.

Then it smoothed over, albeit with a very palpable effort. He would fix this. He had to fix this.

"I want them back," he repeated, his voice veering dangerously low despite his best efforts to remain cordial. He hitched the bag up onto the countertop, listening to coins clink and rattle against each other at the motion.

"Hm." the broker said, picking through the bag of gold, "I'm afraid this is just not enough."

"It's twice what you asked for our passage. Pure gold. That's more than enough."

The shopkeeper thought this over, his fingers idly picking through the coins. Warren kept a close eye - he wouldn't put it past this man to slip a little gold into his pocket when he glanced away.

"Fine. I will accept this sum," the broker finally agreed, drawing out the words. There was something dark in his eyes as he crossed the floor, "Provided the changeling wants to go with you, of course."

Warren pursed his lips, firing a brief glance at the corner of the room. He wasn't sure Kestrel would remember him- he wasn't even sure there was a Kestrel behind that shapeless mass.

But he'd never forgive himself if he didn't get them out of here.

"Changeling!" the broker snapped, sharply and suddenly enough that Warren flinched, "Shape up. Pick something. You have a visitor."

Warren's frown only deepened. He understood now why Kestrel was so shapeless. The broker refused to even call them by name, refused to even see them as anything more than an animal. If he were in their position, he was sure it would break him too.

As the two of them approached, Kestrel's whirlwind of shapeshifting began to slow. With a visibly arduous effort, their form pulled inwards until they were nothing more than a small gray dog, lying on its side and panting. Warren could see their ribs and hips through the skin - had the broker been feeding them at all? Was that just another tactic he'd used to break them?

Emotions roiled within him. He felt sick with the tangle of guilt and anger that twisted in his gut. He should have been faster with the money. He shouldn't have let Kestrel give themself up at all. He only prayed he could fix this.

He crouched before them, and after a beat's hesitation reached out to set his palm on the dog's side. The animal's tail thumped weakly against the floor. He wasn't sure how to interpret that.

"Kestrel," he murmured, hating how broken his voice sounded, "Kes, honey, I'm gonna get you out of here. But you have to help me."

The dog lifted its head, looking at him with dark eyes. It was hard to tell if there was recognition in them, Warren thought. He hoped so, but... really they just looked tired and weak. The band of flesh around their ankle, where the chain had been secured for now almost a full week, was red and raw from the friction of moving.

"Kes, please..." Warren tried again, fighting hard to hold back the pain in his voice. He didn't want the broker to hear his desperation. He cleared his throat and ran his palm gently over the dog's side. "Let me take you home. Let me take care of you. Let me... fix all the mess I made."

The dog blinked once, then let its head fall back to the cold floor beneath it. It let out a heavy sigh and shut its eyes.

Warren, of course, saw the gesture as weary confirmation, an invitation for him to pick them up and carry them out of this damned shop - allowing themself to finally relax because they'd recognized that they were safe, he was here, rescue had come. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe his love for Kestrel, his desperate want for them to return, clouded his interpretation. But he thought that was what it was.

The shopkeeper did not see it that way.

"Looks like a negative to me," the broker said, clearly biting back a smile. He thought he'd won. Warren was disgusted.

He got to his feet and turned, not bothering to even dignify the shopkeeper with a response. He'd get more gold. There had to be some sum in which greed would win out. Triple, quadruple the original fare, it didn't matter. He'd find it. He'd do whatever he had to if it meant freeing Kestrel from this horrible place.

Just as Warren moved to take a step, a hand caught his wrist and held on tight. It froze him in place, soft petals of hope blooming in his chest.

Kestrel wasn't quite human. The hand on his wrist was strangely shaped, too many fingers on a too-long arm. Their face was the same - close enough, a mouth and a nose and a set of eyes, but still about two steps from familiar. They winced, visibly fighting to find words.

"No," they croaked, "I want to go with him."

Their form continued to shift, strangely and painfully, but slowly they became a bit more human. After several long beats of silence, the face Warren saw before him was that of a young girl, ten or eleven. She had brown hair, faintly curly, alongside a heart-shaped face and a strong nose. And she had Kestrel's sharp, dark eyes.

He knew who this girl was, though he'd never seen her himself. This was Kestrel's prior form, Debbie Browning, the first familiar thing they'd managed to latch onto. The thought generated a fresh bud of hope, deep in his chest. They remembered. And if they'd gotten this far, a fragment of a life that still pained them, he was sure the rest would return as well.

"I want to go." they repeated in Debbie Browning's young, vaguely East Coast-accented voice, "I want to go with you. Please."

Warren shifted his grip, folding their hand into his own and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I've got you," he promised, voice faintly hoarse with emotion, "I'm gonna take you home."

Then he turned his eyes towards the broker and gave him a challenging look.

"There's your affirmative. You've got the money. Unlock the chain."

The shopkeeper looked far from pleased, but he muttered something under his breath. The chain around Kestrel's ankle popped open with a harsh click.

The instant they were free, they were scrambling forwards, clinging to Warren like they worried the broker would snatch them away again. The action made fresh guilt well in him, even as he wrapped them in his arms.

"I've got you, Kes," he repeated, "I've got you. It's okay."

As he spoke, he shifted his grip and stood up, their small form still held tight in his arms. Their back hitched under his palm, and he realized a moment later that they were crying. Warren let out a shaking breath of his own, walking out of the shop as quickly as he could.

He was almost to the car when he felt their form begin to shift again. It was just as arduous a shift as the prior one, though a lesser change. Their hair straightened, brightened, lengthened until it fell down their back in a tide of rusty ginger. They didn't get much taller, but their proportions stretched and matured as he held them. This form was familiar to him. This form was Kestrel.

They buried their face against the side of his neck, their grip on him never softening.

"Warren," they whispered, as if they'd only just remembered his name. He ran his hand in comforting circles over their back.

"Hey, Kes," he murmured, ducking his head to kiss their temple. His hands trembled with relief. He thought he'd lost them. He'd never have forgiven himself. "You alright?"

It was a stupid question. They were far from alright. But he didn't know what else to say, and he couldn't stand the silence.

"I feel..." Kestrel mumbled, then shook their head against his shoulder, "I want to go home."

"I know, baby," he said, managing to get a hand free to pull open the door to his car, "I'm gonna get you home. Want to lay down in the back?"

Kestrel nodded, another faint motion against his shoulder, and Warren gently helped them into the back seat. They curled up there, limbs pulled in tight to their chest. They looked just as thin and exhausted in this form as they had in the shop. It made his heart ache.

Warren reached past them and snagged a blanket from the trunk, tucking the garment around as best he could manage. Kestrel shifted, clutching at the fabric.

"I'll find us something to eat on the way," he added, "What are you hungry for?"

"I don't know," Kestrel sighed, sounding weary and close to sleep, "I'm just... hungry."

"Alright. I'll find something," Warren promised, reaching out to stroke their hair. Kestrel hummed lightly, leaning into the touch like it was the only comfort in the world.

"Thanks for..." they started, the words punctuated by a yawn, "Thanks for coming back."

"Always, honey." His voice was choked with the reminder of how long it had taken him, the state that delay had left them in. He almost couldn't speak past the weight of his emotions.

"I'll always come back for you."

[beesfairlyland]

hi bee, i'm sorry for the vent, but i just really need to get this out. i've been into concepts since like... 2016 i think? first loattraction, then loassumption, and now non dualism. i used all of these to "get something" yes, even nd. sure, when i learned about nd i let go of desiring, but in the end i still do "want" to have "my" desired life as a human/"ego". i've been doing everything i read for nd, letting go of all labels, thoughts, etc. and it's been going well, but recently i've started worrying again. everything i did when i was still into both loa's changed absolutely nothing/didn't work for me (i've never "manifested" anything in these almost 8 years), so i'm worried about being stuck as a this human that i do not want to be at all forever. i'm worried about not stripping labels and letting go "good enough" and i'm worried that everyone on here is just feeding me lies about this freedom and liberation. do you have any advice for this? i'm just so desperate to stop identifying with the ego (and an ego i don't like being at that)

Heya hun!💗

It's okayy don't be sorry....i understand sometimes it get's soo frustrating that we need to take it out. I feel you I've been here too before.

Take a deep breathe and calm down. Ik it sucks being stuck in a loop of trying and trying again, in a loop of desiring. But baby you have to understand that Non dualism is not a method, ik you know this too. And uk it's okay if you wanna have your desires (more of beautiful experiences) , may be it's just you are not ready yet to KNOW yourSELF and that's totally fine. There's nothing to hurry about, nowhere to reach. Have some rest. Don't beat yourself up. Okay?

First things first i want you to KNOW that the experiences that you wanna have are nothing special. They are YOU. And Everything that this ego can think of it is already here. It's your choice what you wanna experience.

Rn you are aware of desiring things, from lack. Im not asking you to do nothing, ik it's just gonna make you anxious. Just bare with me hear me out (it's gonna go out of nd perspective). I want you to drop the idea of getting something. If you want to, first feel every shitty emotion you want to. Cry it out. Let it all out. If you wanna cry for whole day, go ahead. But after that, you won't go back to being aware of those feelings. Ofc you'll have thoughts but just don't entertain them. Not yours so they can get lost. Don't give feeling to that thought. And no you don't have to act like you have what you wanna experience, you have to KNOW that this dream gonna change for good. And that's inevitable. I want you to tap into your non dual state aka void state. But this time you are not putting it on a pedestal. I suggest you to read my post and Know what *void* actually is:

And if you don't wanna meditate....you can try lucid dreaming. And it can be beneficial to make you understand that you are not this mind-body. I lucid dream and it's soo fun. Go ahead and give it a try. Just KNOW that you can do it.

Remember it's all gonna be alright. It's destined. you came across all this knowledge for a reason.

Ik i am a non dualism blogger soo i should just stick to that. But ik where you coming from and me giving you more pointers, asking you to go within won't do any good to you. And im here to help you guys. Giving you some motivation about not giving up wouldn't do any good to you atleast in this situation.

Hope i could help you a lil bit! If you wanna ask something else feel free to send in an ask!

-love, bee🐝💗

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Im sorry im sot sure how to word this right but, how do you manage to change the characters race while still making them look like well, them? I've tried but it never comes out right.... they allways look like a new character when i try.... again im sorry to ask....

Tis not a problem at all dear comrade! I'm always happy to try and answer art questions, but just a heads up i might get a lil bit rambly in some spots so i do apologize beforehand.

First off, change that negative tone!

I understand how you feel and its easy to feel down when the piece isnt turning out how you picture it but that's ok. You're setting foot into new artistic territory, something you havent tried before thats still a fairly big unknown. Instead of seeing it as a failure see it instead as a step in your artistic growth. No one starts off god tier right? Changing your framing of how you see your 'bad' drawings can really help you see em in a more positive light (and help with motivation when you attempt something new another time!)

Ok but onto what you actually asked about. How do you change a character but still keep them the same? Well in my eyes to do this, you have to

Break down thedesign

Let's take in the character we wanna redesign. We gotta really look at their original design and identify all their relevant features and shapes that make them easily recognizable as them.

Lemme grab my assistant Gajeel to illustrate my point.

So we have our Gajeel, yea we know what he looks like but! What exactly are we looking for here? Well we're looking for the key features to his design, features important enough where if he had a completely different hairstyle and colour palette ( and perhaps even body type) would make you go 'yea that's gajeel'.

So in breaking it down we note that he has:

Triangular shaped eyes with a bit of a dark outline

Small eyes with slit pupils

Prominent cheekbones

Jacked up hairline

And of course the most noticable feature, the multiple piercings

These- to me- are the most important parts of his design so i leave them generally unchanged when i go about drawing him. Which means everything else is on the table to change!

Though for me when I got about my redesigns i focus on changing 3 things mostly- nose, lips and hair. These really push a race change design, specifically in this case, makin em black

Now of course with this you are going to change skin tone that's obvious but relying solely on colour palette change makes for a somewhat weak redesign. If you turn off the colour and you can't tell if the character is nonwhite then it needs some work.

Noses and Lips

Now there are a great many ways to draw wider noses and it can be a bit difficult figuring out to interpret em without em lookin janky but i find that less is more!

I only ever really show the base of the nose where the tip part is and the nostrils, the bridge of the nose is only ever shown in my style when the head is a bit turned.

The same goes with lips, you only really need about 2 or 3 lines at minimum to emphasizs thick lips- one for the actual lip line, one for the top lip and one for the lower lip. Some people choose to leave out the line for the bottom lip and thats fine. Just don't do this-

If you do that im putting you in the ground myself.

Hair

Hair is a bit of a 50/50 for me to change most times because i really enjoy drawing that spiky anime hair lol. But I think that the important thing to keep note of changing the hairstyle to a more natural one is to keep the overall silhouette of the hair recognizable.

The silhouette being y'know, the shape and all that. If you're a pokemon fan then you already know how much a silhouette builds recognition. So as an example, Juvia's first hairstyle was that straightened looke with the tight curls at the end. The shape of that hairstyle was mimicked by using braids with puffs at the ends to help with maintaining that silhouette.

Gajeel has very big, spiky and wild hair so I tried to mimick that with dreads

(Also to note with the Gajeel redesign is that his face is slightly wider with the features a bit lower but thats more of a liberty I took than anything hard and fast so dont even worry about that)

Again, if i am changing the hair then i try to follow the shape of the original design as closely as possible. Even with a design such as my Black Gray design with a vastly different hairstyle i still sketched out the shape of his og hair to maintain the overall spiky shape (with a few liberties lol)

So uh, yea! I think that's the most basic breakdown of how to go about doing a black redesign. Identifying the key design traits i think really is the most important step to do as it really helps to cement what's necessary to keep and what can or cant be changed.

But some other stuff to be mindful of when redesigning:

Refs naturally are your friend. If you have difficulty with interpreting irl refs then theres no shame in using someone elses art as a reference to help you to learn and understand (just no tracing!)

Please for the love of god use saturated browns for the skin tone. I cannot tell you how often i see designs with a gray-brown skin tone. It makes the character look ashy. Please don't make them ashy.

Also speaking of skin tones, be mindful of being accidentally colourist, where all your darker skinned characters villains or angry, loud, violent, sexual, etc. Not saying you can't redesign characters who have those traits to be dark skinned. But if all the characters you redesign to be dark skinned have those traits while others with more positive traits are lighter shades you may want to step back and do some reflection.

Don't be let down if you don't get a redesign on the first try! You don't see behind the scenes for other artists, it definitely takes a few tries to get it right so dont get hung up on it!

These are not hard and fast rules, just really what works for me and how I do things. If you need anything clarified better or wanna ask anything else feel free to! Happy redesigning comrade!

[merlions]

Ok so Can I Just Ask rhetorically into the air (unless someone has an answer lol I would not say no if anyone offers insight here, im just not specifically asking for it cause i dont know for sure an answer even exists i guess) but when everyone tells u to "feel your feelings" likeee....then what?

Like I keep getting the advice esp in recovery that I gotta "feel my feelings" and "recognize your feelings" but then when I'm like ok. Im doing it. I'm having a panic attack and throwing up from guilt and shame. What do I do about that. And they're like "oh no just feel them!!!"

(Also "shame is bad but guilt is constructive" OKAY. SO JUST feel DIFFERENT feelings? Than the ones I have. Hrrrghhh)

Like I feel like I missed some regular human memo here like there's supposed to be something I Know what to do but I don't know what it is.

Tbh it's the same feeling I get when people keep telling me to like believe in spirituality things or else I won't be able to stay sober. I keep being like so...how do I do that? Like how does it matter to me if there's a god, if also there's literally no guarantee that god won't do something terrible for some "greater purpose" and i cant change that? Like you want me to feel safety from that? All this bad stuff was planned by someone? How does that make it feel less bad? (What sort of sicko- )(sorry lmao I didn't realize I had anger issues w god til I was told I have to actually believe in one)

I keep asking people to describe to me what exactly it means to believe in something spiritual, to them, as if I am a human being who was born blind and never seen color, and they need to describe why some colors are "happy". Or like i'm an alien who has never eaten food and you gotta explain how something can taste "salty". I know that's not the best metaphor and is kinda appropriative of other disabilities that I don't have, but I just mean like can someone try to get SORT OF creative with trying to put this in context for me??? Cause just saying "just do it!!" absolutely does nothing for me! It doesn't make sense. Teaching a human being how to fly by saying "just move your body through the air to where you want to go". Honey. I do not know how. And I cannot learn how via this method. It is not going to work no matter how many times you say it. You are going to have to try something else.

Anyways some shit happened that's ultimately fine and I know WHY I'm having bad feelings and it's not a resolvable situation really, the thing has happened and it can't un-happen, and like I know I'm getting angry cause I'm embarrassed and upset w myself, and that they're not at fault and ultimately it is really truly for the best and actually makes my life better in the long run and I was nice about it and so were they. But like...I'm still angry and sad and embarrassed. Knowing why I feel bad doesn't make me not feel bad, it just makes me angrier with myself for not being able to control it.

And I don't want to feel it cause it hurts and there's nothing I know how to do about that besides drink. Which I am not gonna do, to be clear, but I think is understandable in a recovery space, that we are all alcoholics cause we never learned to deal w feelings any other way. All the advice from my counselor and sponsor and everyone these past 9 months of recovery has mostly just been "try to identify your feelings and feel them". Like I do literally nothing but hyperfixate and ruminate on feelings if im not numbing them and trauma splitting...if I'm not supposed to numb them out I'm Just Going To Need A Bit More Information. Yknow?

[marilostfieldblog]

(OOC WARNING: THIS TRANSCRIPT CONTAINS BLOOD GORE BODY HORROR DEATH IMPLIED CANNIBALISTIC THOUGHTS MILD IMPLIED CANNIBALISM EYE TRAUMA GUNSHOTS AND SUICIDAL IDEATION PLEASE PROCEED BELOW THE CUT AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.)

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript like most begins from a front shirt pocket, someone appears to be looking at the other people in the room. Two of which are in a wagon playing on a computer.]

?: Ok guys. Y'all ready?

[Voice identified: Mari.]

?: Mhm.

[Voice identified: Edgar.]

?: I..i think.

[Voice Identified: William.]

?: Um… What's the plan again?

[Voice identified: Cassidy.]

M: Simple you, me, Delilah, Edgar. And… Where's Ethan?

W: That’s..a good question. I’ll go grab him?

M: Yeah uh I'll just keep recapping the plan? Or wait on you two?

W: I think I've drilled it into him a bit too much, he should know!

[Will chuckles a bit, and walks away, its footsteps audible.]

M: Ok, well we're going to go lead Ruby and uh basically anyone that chases us to the maintenance tunnels to buy us time to break the window in Mai's office. Will is… Uh ask Will I don't actually remember. And Rose and Sparrow are going straight to the office once we distract that which needs to be distracted.

[A woman with long curly brown hair stands up, scratching her own bandages.]

?: And you all are going to follow the plan?

[Voice identified: Rose Elizabeth Henderson.]

M: I know I will. Edgar?

E: Dude. Of course I will.

C: If anything happens to you, me and Sparrow are going to punch you.

?: I’ll throw one in too!

[Voice Identified: Ethan.]

[Will and Ethan walk into frame again, though this time the shorter one looks somewhat anxious, clutching at his head discreetly.]

M: Will? You good?

W: Oh, yeah! Im-I’m fine, just, stress headache, ya know? [It lets out a nervous laugh.]

E: You too, huh?

C: Where are you going Will?

W: Ah, just. Keeping a promise I made a long time ago, kid. I’ll be right behind you guys, won't even realise i'm gone.

M: If we have to find you… We will.

[Edgar appears to be bouncing back and forth on his feet, his hands jitter slightly.]

[Just barely out of frame, someone can be heard tripping and stuttering to put… Something back on their head.]

[Will looks over, first to Edgar, then towards the noises. Its eye notably widens, and he quickly shuts it grimacing as he clutches harder at its head.]

M: [Whispered.] Fuck.

W: U-uhm. You guys promise me something, okay? All of you, you included Ethan. You’re all gonna get out. Alive. Fucking alive and okay, alright?

R: Yep. You too. I owe one fucking thing to my sister and that's not make the same mistake twice.

?: If you don't get out I'm burning the mall.

[Voice identified: Sparrow.]

[Edgar glances around a little, before smiling at Will, and nodding.]

E: Of course.

M: Yep um yeah anything you say dude!

W: G-good. You all better stick to that. Except, maybe, the burning down the mall bit Sparrow. I..I'm gonna head down. You guys better fucking stick to it.

M: Cool. Are you all ready? Edgar, Ethan, Cassidy, Delilah?

[Will sneaks off of the camera frame, whilst Ethan replies.]

Eth: Yeah. I am.

M: Edgar?

E: Yeah, let’s fucking do this.

[He hefts his crowbar in both hands, spinning it in his hands.]

C: I've been ready for the past… However long I've been here.

?: [Muttering.] Fuck fuck fuck fuck

[Voice identified: Delilah..?]

Eth: What?

De: [Normal voice.] Nothing! Haha… I'm ready!

R: Sparrow give me my computer!

Sp: No!

R: Peony will be safer in my bag!

[Sparrow turns to face away from Rose, leading to Rose just snatching the computer from the wagon.]

Sp: HEY!

M: We should get going. Be safe dealing with Emi you two?

R: Yep. Be safe dealing with… Whatever.

M: Come on you 4.

E: Alright.

[Mari turns around to begin walking out the doorway, 4 sets of footsteps heard behind them as they slowly walk around the mall.]

C: How are we supposed to find this ‘Ruby’ thing?

M: Do any of you have a knife?

Eth: Will took mine.

M: Edgar? You got a knife?

E: Just my crowbar.

M: Is it sharp?

E: … I’m not going to let you guys use this thing to draw Ruby closer.

M: Fine s- Oh fuck it I give up Sarah you have a knife?

De: Yep… You sure that's a good idea?

M: Even if this is transcribed, we'll be out by the time it's posted.

Eth: Even if it picks up, isn’t Will a bit away now? That “thing” shouldn't hurt us?

M: Wait… Wait wait wait fuck ok Sarah knife we gotta speedrun!

[Delilah(?) throws Mari the knife, both of Mari's hands appear in frame as they use the pocket knife to slice open their right hand and begin waving it around.]

M: Virus can't hurt us. But it could hurt… Will.

Eth:..he wouldn’t just take that. Surely not.

M: He wouldn't have a choice!

Eth: But, he-

M: IT'S A VIRUS DUDE! IT CAN DO THINGS AND WILL CAN'T STOP IT!

E: Guys, no fighting, please. Focus on the plan.

C: Yeah… My head hurts.

De: Also! If we're fighting when we find Ruby we will die.

C: Wait. Ruby will kill us?

M: Edgar explain. Please?

E: I… fine. So… Ruby is… essentially just a killing machine now. Ruthless. So, if we get too distracted during this portion, we’re going to get torn to shreds.

C: Oh.

M: Yeah and uh… Look alive gang. I can see where she is.

[Mari points to a faint green glow just barely in frame, it appears to be coming from a hallway somewhere.]

Eth: Ah, shit.

E: Be ready to start running.

M: Yep.

De: Good thing we stole good boots for this whole Delilah thing.

C: Is now a bad time to mention my breathing isn't great? ‘Asthma’ I think it's called.

De: Me and Mari have a friend with a fucked up lung, don't worry we got you kid.

E: … Why isn’t Ruby walking around?

M: Maybe she's tired?

E: She’s mostly machine at this point. Machines don’t get tired.

M: Microwaves get tired if you cook too much stuff in it!

E: Ruby isn’t a fucking microwave, Mari.

M: IT'S AN EXAMPLE!

[As the group gets closer to the green light, very faint crunching and other wet gross noises are heard.]

Eth: Is she crushing something?..

E: You’re close. I’ve… heard that sound before.

[They slowly turn the corner, and there it is. The creature identified as “Ruby” is seen hunched over, staring down at a body covered in blood. Their eyes seemingly plucked out, the top of their head crushed. And loud wet gross noises are heard as ‘Ruby’ seemingly eats the insides of the body.]

E: [Muttered.] Fucking hell…

M: OI RUBY! OVER HERE STUPID!

[The creature pays no mind to Mari's shouting, instead the sound of more muscles being ripped into are heard.]

E: [Barely audible.] Of all the days to skip fucking breakfast.

C: Stop it. Get some help. Please.

E: How the fuck did you–

C: I'm right next to you. And I can read lips.

E: Ugh, never mind. We should prepare ourselves for running.

M: [Extremely loud.] RUBY YOU BITCH GET OVER HERE!

[Still no response, instead the creature throws a random organ behind them.]

M: HELP!

Eth: I don't know if that’ll work? She’s pretty..fixated.

M: Anyone have a rope!

De: Mari. Why the fuck would any of us have a rope?

E: Hm. Wait here.

[Edgar walks away from the group somewhat, and swings the crowbar at the wall, ripping a large chunk out of it with ease. He grabs it and walks back over to the group before chucking it at ‘Ruby’.]

[‘Ruby’ stops, a distorted growl is heard as it slowly stands up.]

M: That'll do it. COME ON THEN! BRING IT ON!

[‘Ruby’ grabs a rotting arm, sticking it in its own mouth..? What remains of a mouth? Before turning around with a loud creak and mechanical scream. Running at the group.]

M: ALRIGHT TIME TO FUCKING RUN GUYS.

E: YOU DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE!

[Mari spins around to face the rest of the group before sprinting forward. The loud mechanical footsteps overshadow the noises of the others running.]

C: WHY DO YOU GUYS ALWAYS DO DANGEROUS STUFF! IT MAKES NO SENSE!

E: THIS IS THE PLAN, CASSIDY. THIS IS QUITE LITERALLY THE WHOLE PLAN.

C: WHY DON'T WE JUST RUN OUT A WINDOW! IT WOULD BE SO MUCH FASTER! AND SAFER!

Eth: SECURITY TIGHTENED.

C: WHY!?

E: BECAUSE OF WHAT WE’RE DOING RIGHT NOW, STOP WASTING YOUR BREATH AND JUST FUCKING RUN!

[The group continues running, Cassidy being grabbed by Delilah(?) about halfway through.]

[A second pair of louder footsteps joins the cacophony, echoing off the wall. A shriek is heard from behind the group, causing Edgar’s fist to clench.]

E: [Breathlessly.] Fuck, that thing too?

M: HERE WE FUCKING GO AGAIN.

[Edgar subtly slows down, pushing himself to the back of the group.]

E: I’m moving to the back so you guys won’t trip over me. Just… keep running! Don’t stop for fucking anything!

M: EDGAR I SWEAR TO FUCK IF YOU BREAK OFF I'M GOING TO HIT YOU WITH A FUCKING BAT!

[A long pause.]

E: I’m sorry, Mari.

[The group loses a pair of footsteps, a loud whistle is heard, and the second pair of loud footsteps veers off to the side.]

M: GOD FUCKING DAMNIT DID HE JUST FUCKING LEAVE!

De: Yep.

M: I SWEAR TO GOD IF HE DIES I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD!

Eth: JUST KEEP GOING!

M: I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!

C: Is… Is Rose going to die… If he doesn't get out..?

M: KID WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU… OH.

[The running continues until they eventually after 5 minutes run into a part of the tunnels ‘Ruby’ can't get into.]

Eth: [Between breaths.] Is. Everyone. Okay?

M: NO! I'M PISSED THE FUCK OFF! EDGAR HAD ONE FUCKING JOB AND HE CAN'T EVEN DO THAT GOD FUCKING DAMNIT PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT!

Eth: He..has a plan. He has one.

M: I DOUBT IT! HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A PLAN TO GET OVER THIS HELLHOLE! WHY WOULD HE HAVE A PLAN TO GET OU-

De: Mari. Shut, the fuck. Up. He'll be fine.

Eth: Thank you.

De: No problem. We need to find Will.

Eth: Where would it be, though? I don't know where..

M: Archives.

Eth: Shit, okay. All of us going down there?

M: Bingo, come on.

Eth:..right.[Mari stands up and begins walking once more.]

M: Where's the archives again?

Eth: Down some stairs near the maintenance tunnels, I think. Like, the basement of this place.

M: Ok lead the way I guess.

Eth: on it.

[Ethan walks off in the direction of the archives, in front of the others.]

M: Ight. Let's get this over with.

[After a few seconds, a very faint loud scream is heard.]

M: WHAT THE FUCK.

Eth: That wasn't.. surely..

M: WILL.

Eth: WE NEED TO. GO. NOW.

[The group begins running once more, now in the direction of the archives.]

M: WILL WILL PLEASE GOD BE ALIVE!

Eth: HE HAS TO BE.

[The group begins running down some stairs, one set of footsteps stops though.]

M: SARAH COME O- WHAT THE FUCK!

[In an instant Delilah(?) comes flying down the stairs with Cassidy on her back somehow not injuring herself.]

De: WILL! WILL ARE YOU OK!

[In a brief silence, all that can be heard is some closer, yet still faint sobbing. It sounds incredibly distressed, and painful.]

M: WILLIAM!

[Mari continues running through the area, eventually stopping.]

M: WILL! IT'S MARI WHERE ARE YOU?

[The crying continues, not Muffled. It pauses for a second, before a voice shakily calls out.]

W: M-M-Mari?..

M: YEAH! IT'S ME!.. I… WHERE ARE YOU?

W: I..I can't.. I don't..it's dark, Mari, I can't.. it hurts!..

M: Oh… No no no no no no no.

[Mari finally finds William. He's lying on the floor, In front of a large pile of files. Surrounding him, a pool of crimson blood stains its clothes and the paperwork near him. A knife is seen lying nearby, similarly painted a dark red, along with what appears to be..an optic nerve beside some wires. Will appears turned away from the camera, grasping at his face as it cries.]

M: Will… What happened? I… Fuck fuck GOD DAMNIT!

[He visibly flinches at the sounds around him.]

W: She-She was watching through, through my eyes that's- that's how Xe was seeing- seeing everything. She wanted to stop you guys getting out- i-i couldn't let her I couldn't!

[Will appears to begin crying again, his breathing hitching.]

De: [Kinda distant.] WHAT HAPPENED IS WILL OK?

M: Jesus fuck… I…

[Mari audibly can be heard getting angry, before eventually just screaming.]

M: STUPID FUCKING MALL! WHY CAN'T THESE STUPID CUNTS JUST LET YOU LIVE LIFE! GOD FUCKING STUPID BITCH!

[Multiple footsteps are heard running up to Mari and by extension Will.]

W: Mari, It-it hurts so much, I can't- can't think, it just- it hurts!

M: It's ok I'm here w- We're… Almost all here.

W: Al…most?- [He interrupts itself with a cry, after moving its head.] P-please..

M: Edgar fucking ran off, I’m sorry but we need to go now.

De: WRAP UP WILL'S DAMN HEAD FIRST!

C: I have my jacket we can wrap around it?

[Mari pulls Cassidy into frame, ripping off one of her sleeves.]

[Will tries to move towards the sounds,but yelps again and pulls back, revealing a bit of his face to the camera. It's bloodstained, wet from both tears and blood.]

M: Jesus… Fucking… Christ.

W: I-im sorry, I didnt- I cant- it hurts!

M: It’s ok.

[Mari takes the blue sleeve and begins attempting to wrap it around Will's head. Before having Cassidy's whole suit jacket thrown at them to wrap around Will's head.]

W: There was..wires. there was wires. There..

M: I… I swear to god I'm going to burn this mall to the fucking ground. IF THESE SHOWFUCKS DON'T LEAVE YOU ALONE!

W: I..feel w-weird..

M: Yeah uh I bet… Wait. Sarah, are you realising what I'm realising?

De: That, if what happened to Will got transcribed we need to hurry up? Yeah.

M: Ok Will, Imma just carry you like a wet cat on my shoulder ok?

[Mari finishes wrapping the suit around Will's head before standing fully up.]

W: O-kay, I.. don't k-know if I can stand.

M: Yep got it.

[Mari bends down and grabs William. Its arms dangle over the camera making things a tiny bit harder to see. As Mari and the rest of the group begin walking out of the archives.]

W: I-im sorry, I couldn't let xer..

M: It’s fine Will. It's fucking fine, we need to find Rose and Sparrow and then fucking go.

W: R-right, I'm.. very dizzy..

M: Rest if need be. We'll be fine.

W: O-okay, I'm just..gonna..

[Will's head hits something, presumably Mari's shoulder as it passes out.]

De: Fucking hell…

[No one speaks for a few minutes as they leave the tunnels, they continue walking until someone can be seen running from a distance.]

De: Ethan. Take my knife just in case.

Eth: On it.

[Delilah(?) can be heard slipping Ethan a knife. As the group gets closer to the woman it's clear the woman is Rose, noticeably shaken up.]

M: Where's Sparrow?

R: WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO WILL?

M: V1rus. What happened to Sparrow?

R: DUNNO! Where's dad?

M: Ran off without us like always. ETHAN QUIT TAKING WEAPONS GIVE ME THE KNIFE.

Eth: Sarah? Do I?-

De: No! It's my knife anyways and we need to get going!

M: FINE!

R: Oh hey Ethan.

Eth: Hey Rose! You ain't getting this either.

R: I have a gun. So like. Cool.

Eth: Yeah that. Checks out.

R: Yeah. Anyhoo come on guys.

M: Ethan. Make sure Will doesn't fall please?

Eth: Yeah, I.. I got him, you're good.

M: Sick.

[Thus, the footsteps start back up. Walking through the creepy mall as they have been doing for months before.]

Eth: Where do we think Sparrow is?

M: Hopefully heading where we're going which is… Ok fuck where's the map?

Eth: Uhh..

R: It's fine. I know this hellhole like the back of my fucking hand come on guys.

[Rose begins walking in front of the rest of the group, seemingly leading them… Somewhere.]

[Will moves a bit, attempting to move his head. However, he lets out a whimper and resumes his previous position.]

R: Is he going to be ok?

Eth: He..I think he's going to be blind. Permanently.

R: No shit I can tell cuz the bandages over his eyes.

Eth: Then I'm sorry for answering your question! [His tone is light, seemingly joking.]

[Rose chuckles, before stopping. Seemingly seeing something.]

M: You good?

R: Ethan give me the knife please.

[Ethan hands it over, albeit hesitantly.]

R: Thanks.

[Rose begins walking off the path she was headed, as the group gets closer it's clear who she saw.]

R: WHAT DID YOU DO YOU SELFISH BITCH!

[Rose grabs the person by the shirt collar, holding a knife to their gut. Who it is remains unseen thanks to both Rose's body and William's arms.]

?: I TRIED! ROSE I SWEAR TO GOD I TRIED!

[Voice identified: Emi Henderson.]

R: YOU DIDN'T TRY SHIT! WHAT DID YOU DO TO SPARROW!

Em: NOTHING I SWEAR TO YOU!

Eth: Rose, who's. Who's this?

M: Emi, Rose's half sister who she accidentally killed when trying to escape once. She now wants to kill Rose for good.

Eth: Oh. OH. THIS? IS THAT ONE?

R: Yep!

Em: HEY COME ON NOW! IT'S NOT EVEN SPARROW'S BLOOD!

R: WHO’S BLOOD IS IT?

Em: RANDOM DEAD BODY A SECURITY THREW!

R: BULLSHIT!

Em: ON GOD!

[Rose throws Emi to the ground, revealing her to be covered in blood holding the purple music box.]

R: Where's Sparrow?

Em: I-

R: NOW.

Em: Fine fine… I'll fucking. Take you idiots to them.

[Just then, a loud mechanical scream is heard off in the distance.]

Eth: You better make this fucking quick, somethings heard us.

Em: Probably Ruby knowing our luck.

R: Go fuck yourself. And start walking?

[Emi chooses not to respond and instead begins walking, spending 7 minutes walking around before stopping.]

Eth: Is this..?

Em: One more turn.

R: Hurry up before I rip out your throat.

Em: Fine! Fine!

[Emi leads the group to turn a corner, and there on a wall. Is Sparrow, taped up with a cracked and painted Showfall mask dangling from their neck. Blood slowly drips from their head and arms.]

Eth: You..You fucking monster.

Em: [Between slow claps.] Ha… I like you Ethan. You're a smart one.

De: You painted the mask like a…

Em: Marionette doll! Yep! Honestly less painted and more drew on with markers.

W:..fucking..bitch..

Em: Come on! Still better than what Mai did with them… I just put the poor brat out of their misery.

[Ethan darts forward, aiming for Sparrow, but can't reach them. Emi reaches a leg forward and trips Ethan, almost like a bully in a high-school movie.]

Em: Nope! Not happening, in all honesty your best chance at stopping me is to shoot me… But I know you idiot's need the ammo.

[Ethan looks behind him, at Rose.]

R: God fucking damnit… I… Why? We had a fucking deal!

Em: YOU THINK YOU HAVE ALL THE POWER HERE RIGHT? LIKE YOUR A FUCKING HERO? GUESS WHAT! THE LAST PERSON IN THIS HELLHOLE TO BE CONSIDERED A HERO GOT THEIR HEAD CRUSHED BY A SPIKED BOX AND DIED! THIS ISN’T A FUCKING FANTASY BOOK WHERE GOOD PEOPLE WIN!

Eth: Wh…you don't.. no. You're lying.

[Ethan appears severely shocked, and a little worried.]

Em: Oh please! We're far past the point of lying! Ranboo's dead! Been dead for… A while now.

Eth: Why..nobody.. .no. no!

Em: Oh… Oh damn. Well in Rose's defence at least she didn't know until recently either.

R: Why do this now?

Em: Put on a little show! Once the other higher-ups find out I escaped with Ruby once and could talk about this company any damn time I'll probably be killed. So might as well have fun while it lasts right?

C: You… YOU BIG JERK!

[Cassidy pushes past Mari and Delilah(?) in an attempt to attack Emi, only to be grabbed by the hair by Emi.]

Eth: Take your hands off the fucking kid!

Em: No. Why do that… When Murder is way more fun at this point! Besides, the enemy of my enemy is my friend right? So… Might as well help showfall before they have me ripped in half!

W: Fucking..leave them..alone!.

Em: Shut up Will! God… Virus should've made you stab your heart instead.

W:...asshat.

Em: Freak.

R: SHUT UP! YOU BITCH!

Em: Anyway… Say goodbye to Cassidy everyone!

[Cassidy struggles to get out of Emi's grasp, only to fail.]

W: Please just..leave..them be!..

Em: NOPE!

[As Emi goes to stab Cassidy, Rose runs forward from the left. Pushing Cassidy out of the way and being stabbed in the side by Emi. Emi appears genuinely confused, before laughing.]

Em: YOU TOOK THE FUCKING STAB?

R: [Pained.] F- Fuck you.

[Emi kicks Rose off the knife, the woman falls to the ground holding the area where she was stabbed as Cassidy runs over to check on them.]

C: MS. ROSE! PLEASE BE OK I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M REALLY SORRY!

R: [Between coughing.] Don't… Apologise… It's fine…

Em: UGH! Idiots come on! Taking you dumbfucks to Mai's office.

W: ..Rose?..

R: [Still coughing.] Hey… Will…

W: What..happened? I don't..

Em: I stabbed her in the side. Now come on.

R: I'll… Be… Fine.

[Will moves his arms in the direction of Emi, attempting to grab at them. Only for Emi to laugh.]

Em: Nice try stupid!

R: E- Ethan… Come here…

[Ethan moves over towards Rose, leaning down to her level]

[Rose whispers something in Ethan's ear, seemingly being as serious as possible.]

R: S- stay… Safe…

[Ethan solemnly nods.]

Em: COME ON YOU FUCKERS.

Eth: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

C: W- We should go… We need to get out… We owe it to everyone.

[Ethan nods.]

Em: COME ON THEN!

[Cassidy stands up. Signalling Emi to go first.]

Em: My pleasure.

[Emi begins leading the group away from Rose and Sparrow, as Mari walks past Rose she seemingly squeezes their right leg twice.]

M: [Whispered.] Will. She's still alive for now, just act like we were forced to leave her for dead.

W: [Whispered] Thank you..on it.

Em: Feels nice knowing she'll finally be dead soon.

W: [Louder] Shut.

Em: Even if the blood loss or kidney damage doesn't kill her… If Edgar dies, or gets remasked. Hell she'll do my job for me!

Eth: He said. Shut up.

Em: No. I won you morons.

[Will's head jerks up, although he does yelp a bit in pain.]

W: Shut the Fuck up! You fucking coward!

Em: You lost to a virus. Who's the bigger coward?

W: It's fucking dead!

Em: Viruses can't die stupid.

W: I got rid of the..mechanism for it. It's gone.

Em: Until Showfall leads you back and puts it back in.

Eth: it's not gonna happen. We're making sure of it.

Em: You guys said that about Edgar. And Rose. In fact I think Rose said that about Edgar TWICE.

Eth: Shut up.

Em: No!

[Will coughs, moving his head away as he splutters up blood.]

M: You good?

W: It's.. fine. I don't.. It's fine.

M: Not really. You're going to the doctor later.

W: No. I..don't. No.

M: You’re coughing up blood. You've had both eyes ripped out in the span of a few months. You've been beaten up by everyone under the goddamn sun. You’re going to see a doctor. At least for a day.

W: Please. I can't.. please.

M: We'll all go with you… Except Edgar. From what I understand he's banned from visiting.

W:I can't Mari I can't not again..please.

M: Why not? Please tell me?

W: ..surgery. Hetch did..surgery..

M: Oh… Wait… Who is Hetch?

[Ethan looks over.]

Eth: that's the..thats the boss of this place. The one who organised those shows for Edgar. The one who…killed Ranboo. The one who..they're just. Fucked up. I remember Will telling me about what they did.

M: Oh… WAIT. If Hetch is the boss. And is here. WHY THE FUCK DO CEO AND MANAGER HAVE TO BE HERE? Can't the boss of this hellhole do shit themselves.

Eth: They just..don't care it seems. Focused on their shows and writing.

M: Cringe.

Eth: That's the one who put Edgar in the corpse closets.

M: Double cringe.

[Emi stops, in front of a broken purple door. The doorknob seemingly missing as she kicks the door wide open.]

Em: We're here fuckers.

Eth: What now.

Em: Your escape route. Simple as that.

[Emi attempts to walk behind the group, but is followed by Mari and by extension the camera. Emi stops at the doorway and begins laughing.]

Eth: What.

Em: [Between laughing.] You idiot's… Really thought you could get everyone out?

Eth:...We all knew the risks.

Em: But you still couldn't do anything. Edgar will be dead or remasked before you morons can get out of the forest knowing him, and with Rose and Sparrow dead. You guys outside… Who's going to save him?

W: ..Mari. Put me down.

M: Not happening, I made a promise to Edgar and Rose. You’re getting out, Edgar will be fine.

W: Mari.

M: Will.

Em: EMI! Anyway it's uh… I'm not letting any of you idiot's leave this room anyway unless it's out that window.

W: Then not leaving. Room.

M: Edgar and Rose would both want you to get out and away from here! It's not your job to protect everyone anymore. HELL YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE! So like… How are you supposed to even survive here?

De: Yeah uh Will… I doubt you'd be able to survive here blind.

W: …could try.

De: THAT’S SUICIDE WILL!

[Will simply shrugs.]

Em: I say let the idiot try. Worst case scenario the monster you all call a friend dies.

C: Mr. William, I'm not permitted to swear. Can you please string together some swear words for Emi for me?

W: Uhhhh…three inch fool?

C: I meant actually swears. Like um

M: She means words like fuck, shit, bitch, ass.

Em: I could still stab you all y'know?

W: Fool?

C: No I meant… Swear for me please.

W: Ah. Grossly misinterpreted what you said. Emi, you're a bitch-ass motherfucker who smells like shit. Better?

C: YIPPEE!

Em: The blue idiot is the only one of you who doesn't smell of blood.

W: No shit, sherlock.

Em: ANYWAY. Leave before I start stabbing.

[Mari seemingly spots something out of frame, sighing.]

M: No.

Em: What?

M: Na.

Em: Why?

M: Uhhhhhhh Three. Two. One.

[Just then, the sound of something hitting Emi in the right knee is heard. The camera follows Emi as she falls to the ground. Before turning back to reveal Rose, holding Sparrow on her back, both of them wrapped up with various parts of clothing. As she holds a now cracked 2 by 4 board.]

Sp: [Weak.] GET CROWBARRED… GET 2 BY 4ED BITCH.

R: [Between coughing.] Fucking christ you have a bony kneecap.

W: They're here! Fuck yeah!

R: Told you I'd be fine.

Em: HOW! SPARROW I CHECKED YOUR PULSE TWICE!

Sp: Found out how to slow my pulse down just enough, to not be felt by hand or something.

Em: I STABBED YOU IN THE KIDNEY!

[Rose looks at Emi, almost… Happy.]

R: Nope!

Em: W- What?

R: Had to have that kidney removed when I was little thanks to complications. It's why I attacked from the left, not the right.

Sp: Will… You ok?

W: Y-Yeah! Fucking great!

Sp: Are your eyes fucked up? Bandaged.

W: Uhm..long story.

Em: One that you fucking bastards won't live to hear!

R: Someone take Sparrow. Please?

[Just then, Sparrow notices something out of frame.]

Sp: MY WAGON!

Em: I knew I threw it somewhere…

R: Sarah?

De: Yep.

[Delilah(?) walks in frame grabbing Sparrow, before walking out of frame.]

R: Will, sorry I made you worry… Honestly I'm glad I didn't bleed out.

W: No, it's! It's fine, I'm just fucking happy you're okay!

R: Cool.

Em: I told you! Your best chance of stopping me was to shoot me.

R: Oh I plan to. But first.

[Mari turns to face the window, which after a few seconds. Is shot by Rose, shattering.]

M: William, We're going to leave last okay?

W: Y-yeah, that's. That's fine.

M: Ok.

R: Get the kids out first.

[Emi gets up as the sound of a wagon being thrown out of a window is heard.]

W: Mari, If any help is needed..

M: I'll help.

De: I'll be busy, come on kids.

C: Yes ma'am.

Sp: I am, quite literally, on your back.

Em: ENOUGH. GET OVER HERE ROSE!

[Emi runs towards Rose and they begin fighting. The sounds of punches and kicks are heard in the background as Mari turns around to help get Delilah and Cassidy out the window.]

M: Ok just move slowly, lotta broken glass.

Em: GO TO HELL!

R: EMI WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME!

[The fighting continues, someone being thrown on the floor can be heard.]

W: Mari, what's going on over there?

M: Uhhh.

[The sound of Mari turning their head is heard.]

M: Rose and Emi are beating the snot out of each other. Can't tell who's winning.

[The fighting continues in the background, a loud bang is heard.]

W: What was that?

[Mari full body turns, Emi and Rose both on the ground. Emi stands up slowly, placing her right foot on Rose's stomach. Laughing.]

Em: STOP. COMING. BACK!

R: F- Fuck… N- Not good…

W: Rose?.. You..You have to get up..please!..

Em: YOU’RE GOING TO DIE AS YOU LIVED ROSE. A MONST-

[A loud snap is heard as Rose bites into Emi's shin, ripping off a chunk of flesh as Emi falls to the ground screaming.]

Em: WHY THE FUCK DO ALL OF YOU DO THAT!?

[Rose shivers.]

R: Ew. Ok yeah that was gross ew

W: Did it? Work?

M: ROSE RIPPED A CHUNK OUT THIS BITCHES LEG! YAHOO!

Em: YOU FUCKING MONSTER I-

[Just then, Emi is cut off by a loud mechanical scream close by.]

W: Rose! We all need to go!

R: Not yet.

[Emi slowly stands up, running at Rose with a knife as the footsteps get louder.]

[Will makes an unsettled sound, and his arms appear to move a bit tighter around Mari.]

Em: GO TO FUCKING HELL!

R: I'm sorry for everything.

[Emi stops, the metal footsteps do not. She walks over to the doorway slowly, almost… Having realised she's lost.]

Em: I'll never forgive you.

[In an instant green light engulfs the room as ‘Ruby’ rips through the doorway to grab Emi, who screams as the monster begins tearing at her. Starting with the arms which get snapped spraying blood around the room as bone and muscle are twisted, then the legs. Grabbed and used to slam Emi into the ground like an old plush, before also being snapped and torn off. Emi's screams get weaker as the monster lifts her up, digging one hand into her lower and one hand into her upper torso before snapping her open like an old meatstick, killing her with guts and organs falling out of what remains. The monster throws the body into the room, flesh and other bits landing on Rose.]

M: Jesus fuck-

W: That sounded..uhm...

[The monster turns it's head to face Rose and by extension Mari and the camera. Rose slowly backs up.]

M: Rose come on.

R: Taser.

M: W- What.

R: Trust me. Give me the taser. Cassidy gave it to you right?

W: What's…?

[Mari can be heard and faintly seen digging for the taser in their pocket as Rose uses a thicker string to tie one of Emi's knives to her gun, holding the gun and knife in one hand, and the string in her mouth.]

R: Hurry up running out of room.

M: GOT IT!

[Mari throws the taser at Rose as ‘Ruby’ runs at her, the monster attempts to grab Rose but is tased with an electrical crack as it screams.]

W: [quietly.] Whats- what's going on?..

M: Dunno.

[Rose runs to the stunned monster before stabbing in with the knife tied to the gun.]

R: [Almost crying.] I am… So sorry.

[After a few seconds a gunshot is heard, Rose pulls the weapon out of the monster's chest and steps back. As the monster begins… Bleeding.]

R: I… I…

[Rose falls down onto the floor, after a few seconds of wobbling. The monster follows suit, before it can hit the ground Rose grabs it. Then, seemingly using its last bit of energy. A distorted voice sounds from the creature.]

?: T- than..k… Y- ou… f- for… L- L- liv… ing.

W: Wh….

R: R- Ruby..?

[The rotting lump of wires and flesh goes limp, having used its last bit of energy to speak.]

W: Was that?..

[Rose begins crying, holding the head of the monster before looking at Mari.]

M: Need help?

R: Please..?

M: Will hold on bud.

W: M-mhm.

[Mari walks over to Rose helping her get up, before they each grab an arm of the corpse. Dragging it over to the window.]

M: Ok how should we do this? Will, any ideas?

W: What are you doing?..

M: Dragging Ruby's corpse out the window.

W: Warn, the others down there?

[Mari shouts.]

M: OI! KNOCK KNOCK

De: [Kinda distant.] WHO'S THERE!

M: BUTTER!

De: [Still distant.] BUTTER WHO?

M: BUTTER BE GLAD YOU ALREADY SMELL LIKE BLOOD!

[Mari and Rose grab the corpse and slowly drop it out the window leading to a loud scream.]

De: [Distant.] GOD DAMNIT MARI SPARROW IS DOWN HERE!

M: SORRY!

R: Thank… You.

M: Yeah, anytime dude. Will ready to uh live?

W: ..don't know?.

M: I'll ask Ness to buy you uh… What do you want from the pizza place?

W: ..what's there?

M: Breadsticks, cheesy bread, any pizza you want, salad. Y'know the usual.

W: I..don't know the usual honestly. Could I think about it?.

M: Sure uh… Welp Rose you first.

R: You first.

M: No you.

R: No you.

M: No you.

W: I'm a tiebreaker, Rose you go first.

R: Fine.

M: Be careful you still have Peony rig- What the fuck are you doing?

[Rose begins stepping backwards.]

R: Remember. Keep your arms and legs inside the window.

M: Rose don't you dare.

R: AND I'M OUTTA HERE!

[Rose runs past Mari and hops out the window, after a few seconds a thunk is heard and Rose shouts.]

R: [Kinda distant.] I'M OK!

W: Did she just? Properly throw themself out?

M: Rose fucking sprint jumped out the window.

W: Oh gods. Please don't. Please.

M: I'm not. I… Don't have a rope. Ok hold on tight dude.

W: Oh gods, Oh gods oh gods!-

[Mari leans out the window and slowly climb out to the ledge. Will's arms are seen to be trying to gasp one another, but slowly appear to be slipping.]

De: I'LL CATCH YOU!

W: A-ARE YOU SURE?

De: YES! I WOULDN'T OFFER IF I WASN'T SURE!

W: Okay, okay, okay-

[As Will says this, his hands visibly slip, and he drops from view, yelling as it falls.]

[No thud is heard, only Delilah(?) sighing.]

De: Been a minute since I had to catch someone honestly.

W: Thank you so much thank you thank you thank you-

De: No problem dude. Mari, come now!

M: BET!

[The camera shakes as Mari jumps down, landing on both feet. Before starting to laugh.]

M: Will… We… We fucking did it…

W: I..this..it's..

[He sounds odd. Almost..repressing something.]

M: Give me. One moment I made a promise to someone.

[Mari sighs, before jumping up and down in celebration.]

M: FUCK YES! HAHA! FUCK THIS MALL. FUCK MANAGER. FUCK SQUIG. FUCK IRIS. FUCK S.V2. FUCK NICHOLAS. FUCK MAI. AND FUCK EMI! I'M OUT HAHA YES GOD FUCKING DAMNIT YES!

W: AND FUCK HETCH!

M: YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT!

[The camera shakes as Mari continues celebrating, it lasts 30 seconds before stopping on Rose. Who is sitting there removing the knife from the gun.]

M: Rose?

R: One bullet.

M: W- What?

R: I made a promise, Mari. We both get out or neither of us do.

W: No. No Rose he's coming out.

R: If he isn't out by late tonight. I'm done Will.

W: But…you said you wouldn't.. Rose please..

R: I said I wouldn't do this if Mari didn't get him unmasked… Which They did.

W:..please. please dude.

R: I can't do it anymore Will. I can't lose him anymore.

W: You won't, just..hold on. Please..

R: Late night. That's it. That's all you're getting from me.

W: ….please..

R: I can't. Mari… Take the kids to Jenny. Get Will safe.

M: Y- You got it…

W: N-no. Don't you dare.

R: Will I'm sorry.

[Mari turns towards Delilah(?) grabbing Will and putting him back on their shoulder. It begins to struggle, trying to wriggle out of their grip.]

W: N-NO! LET GO!

M: I'm sorry. Rose is going to be ok… I promise.

W: Please.. mari, please..

[It's voice cracks and wavers.]

M: We have to go.

W: i-i can stay! I'll be fine! Please!

M: No you won't. You're hurt.

C: Transcripts on.

M: Ok cool. End transcript.

[Transcript end.]

[monsterqueers]

I'm realizing I might not be as human as originally thought... I'm not sure where to start exploring this... you're the only blog I follow who posts about nonhuman stuff so I was wondering if you can help point me in a direction? Thank u

Hi!

So first Im gonna point you to our site's archive of various websites on the topic here: https://dragonsroost.neocities.org/nonhuman

Theres a bunch of websites to get lost in over there and a bunch of essays as well. We have some of our own works on the site too, just poke around.

Ill also recommend this: https://shadowfae.tumblr.com/post/185101209056/hi-im-pretty-sure-im-kin-but-i-have-doubts-and as something that might be useful.

All and all though, Awakening is something that everyone takes their own paths to and has different explanations for.

Your path is going to be unique to you.

Personally we would recommend looking at your nonhuman feelings and asking yourself what you feel like. What is your conception of self? Do you experience the feeling of having limbs you dont actually (both 'minds eye' and actual sensory feedback)? Do you have strong instincts that feel not standard human?

Narrow what you are down from there, and worry about a community label or mythos for why you are like that later.

For narrowing things down- hit the books. Sometimes this is easy, you feel like a cat and identify as a catperson and feel uncomfortable not having a cat body, its pretty clear you are a cat. No research necessary.

Other times it can be harder. This is where journaling comes into play. Its not that bad to do really- or, it doesnt have to be.

Just jot important things down that feel related to your sense of self, feeling like you want to have or do have in your minds eye certain nonhuman traits, feeling distressed with certain parts of being physically human, instincts you have to do certain odd things, animals that make you feel home (or hungry or scared), odd dreams centered around being nonhuman, feelings of de ja vu. Doesnt have to be daily, doesnt have to be fancy or detailed.

A note on your phone you add stuff to whenever it occurs to you is just fine, no need to have a mandatory daily journal detailing everything including all your dreams or anything.

Look up things that seem similar- including real plants and animals(both living and extinct), mythic entities, and fictional nonhuman entities. Research research research.

Its ok to be mistaken, or take a long time to figure it out. Many nonhumans have a long journey to discovery with many false alarms. Its also ok for your nonhuman feelings to change over time, or fade away all together. Take things as it comes and identify how it feels right- thats the most important thing.

Remember- like being trans, gay, or plural, people who arent those things or something adjacent dont spend a long time agonizing over it. If you feel nonhuman, you probably are somehow.

As for community stuff...

The community has a lot to it. When you figure out whats going on with you, then you figure out what part of the community you feel most comfortable in and labeling yourself with. Otherkin, therian, transspecies, general nonhuman, alterhuman, there are so many labels floating around and each of them have their own history, culture, and connotations.

Just maybe lurk a bit reading to get an idea of the manners and culture before you jump in. It really helps. Also feel free to lurk while you are figuring things out.

Hope this helped anon! Good luck on your journey!

[alazyparallelworld]

interesting thoughts... and sorry if im replying scarily fast, this whole thing is being spurred by an all-nigher (unusual for me). the question of whether the problems i face in my life are this horrible woe in need of immediate addressing or just me blowing things out of proportion and creating fake problems by thinking to hard is something i consider a lot, and i feel like it makes me take myself both too seriously and trivialize my own problems at the same time. i think im generally well-adjusted (no like, trauma-based mental illness, and i am fairly happy in life even when im going through stressful situations) and constantly moving towards a better handling of myself/my problems, and this contemplation is just another step in that process. like, is my current "solution" the best one, or do i keep looking? the private journal was a recent invention, and ive been enjoying it, besides when it gets tangled in attention-seeking patterns, though its fine usually

sharing meta and opinions is an interesting suggestion... its another way ive seen people i admire gain more prominence in the eyes of an audience of strangers (still not something im sure i should pursue, but on the other hand i realize that i need to accept that as a creator my goal is going to be tied to getting the attention of others and that its a fine motivation as long as its not all-consuming). i generally keep my interests to private spaces, and if i have anything more lengthy to say i kind of guiltily squirrel it away where less people will see it. i guess its interesting to think of new ways i can interact with the resources i have available to me (blogs etc). i do have a letterboxd, but i find i use it more for my own utility than as a social media

going on my own tangent, one of the ways id really like to connect with an audience is to create some kind of story that people can consume, but the more i work on it the further back being able to put something finished out gets. i know i could start small, like comics and short stories, but theres a lot of work that needs to go on in my brain and with my habits before i feel ready. soon ill hopefully have much more time to introspect and work on my craft to address that. interesting thoughts... and sorry if im replying scarily fast, this whole thing is being spurred by an all-nigher (unusual for me). the question of whether the problems i face in my life are this horrible woe in need of immediate addressing or just me blowing things out of proportion and creating fake problems by thinking to hard is something i consider a lot, and i feel like it makes me take myself both too seriously and trivialize my problems

also- curious about this special interest you mention. is it art, or psychology, or specifically the intersection between these things?

-

your uncertainty upon, "am i minimizing or exaggerating my problems" is not a question i can answer. however, i can (attempt to!) reassure you that both of these are genuine problems of their own right, and worth your time and attention.

for the first - minimizing - "how can i respect myself better? why am i so inclined to 'shrinking' my problems?" and the latter, exaggerating, "how can i identify a serious problem? why do i routinely make mountains out of molehills" - and nuance exists here, you seem to be aware of that. there are situations wherein i, myself, 'crunch' my issues (because i do not have the time, capacity, to resolve said pain) or 'heavy' them (because i feel it so badly, i need to be comforted, i need to gain Attention for my pain) - and when curled upon ourselves, we struggle.

'simple,' 'easy,' 'digestible' - that's why we, the Royal we as humans, lean towards black/white thinking. to comprehend entirely is to feel so, so much pain and in such convoluted ways - the body's anatomy is pictured as interconnecting lines, and the planetary system is drawn interconnected. this is not reality. humanity, whether in history or in our skeletons below bodily functions, do not exist independently nor in neat, orderly, if/then interactions. there is no, 'closest planet,' because that is not how orbits work. but, to Understand, we curtail.

if a sounding board - to know 'The Truth,' or at least the closest next-best-thing - a social worker could help in a "i got a degree for this!" sense, rather than the extreme of Going to Therapy. i, personally, see both a social worker and a therapist. but, in my previous ask, i anecdote'd my self-taught practice through DBT /CBT worksheets, scientific essays & reports, and checklists/criteria for my concerns. self-help books are a marketable alternative; '50 tips to boost self-esteem' with a cute cover is an easier sell than, 'a study of [x] people over the scope of [x] years, symptoms and recovery' you know…?

therapy also comes with the - how to say this - 'expectation' is not the right word, but generally, there is a 'recovery plan,' - lifelong therapy is unwelcome, and you (royal you) are to be Un-checkmarked. that's why i am not - GO TO THERAPY - bc it's not my place to say so, and there is a lot of implied stress to exit upon 'completion of services,' - …it ignores the complicated reality, too, of insurance, transportation, whatever… for me, information thru SCIENCE! was a key developmental stage, and i rarely see that sort of recommendation.

although. i. i brought up mental illness i-in metaphor, i apologize if i appeared to be… Diagnosing you… [DUCKS HEAD, APOLOGETIC] just, i've seen that 'GO TO THERAPY' is the first recc people give. And I think it is Silly, dismissive, and quite often in bad faith. i am merely detailing my own experiences & self-improvement re: my struggles of (therapy-adverse) mental illness, in the hope that it is either related to on Some level, or ignites curiosity in self-improvement for you.

I. Due to the. Underdevelopment and all, I struggle w/ (blanking on how to say this, too) being comprehensible. I don't speak 'flowery,' I have an above-decent grasp on grammar whether Prose-Proper or Internet-Proper, but my intellectual disability means I perceive language in a way that isn't 1:1. I am regularly misunderstood, whether it be the definitions of the words I'm using, or my intent.

with that the bulk of 'how 2 help' is over - back to art!

mm i write at turtle-speed so i can… Sympathize, with the mismatch of 'time' and 'creation,' I've had to accept that I cannot match my hand to my thought process. Somewhere, and recently, I've sighed that a machine cannot pluck my tactile-formed sentences and prose and unfurl it into writing…

(I don't actually hear voices - I 'shape' things, mentally. i.e Letters are created through hand motions; I can't translate the sentences from thought to text, because I can't realize what they are, either. I'm blind to the things I think, beyond a vague conclusion. This is why my art is so… strange…? and unreal. My art is how I perceive reality.)

'practice, practice, practice,' bluh. I hate it - It's true. The method to write/create faster is through practice - but, how can you practice, if you cannot even start…?! A quick (not necessarily a PERFECT) beta may be of help - someone to prod you, or edit what is existing.

…and matching with an editor can be, just as hard, as creation itself…..

ah, the special interest. I like, brain abnormalities, which branches into the body itself. I'm fascinated with its functions, which is why I begun to ramble on about the nervous system and why I said that, rather than the e- [cuts myself off]

[rax-writes]

More

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes:  Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

[xiaq]

Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

[tparker48]

Request for Alternativenight09

It would be in the middle of the night as the a man would be sitting in his chair. His eyes just aching him to get some rest for the night as his body slouched in place. He almost obliged as he started to let his body relax. But a sudden knock on the door would draw him out of it as went to go answer. Opening the door, there was no one on the other side. But instead a box of some kind would reside below as he went to go pick it up. Opening it as he peaked. A little figure would be inside. From look of his body, he could possibly be young, but was hard to tell with their little features.

"A little one, here at my door step. Don't they know who's house this is..." He pondered to himself. But he soon saw a note stuck between the corner of the cushion holding the little one as he pulled it out. Unraveling its folds as writing appeared along the other side.

"Kind sir, forgive me for the intrusion, but it was all i could do during my time of need. It is not safe in the world that I must travel, and I can't risk my dear boy the heartache for seeing me off. But I beg you, take care of him. For he is my shining star"

"My shining star? Ugh I hate cheesy stuff like this. And last I checked I'm not a nanny. Why should I care for this twerp?" He groaned as he gazed back down at the little one, his body now curled up in a ball as a hand punched the wall. "He is lucky he's adorable. Fine, I'll take care of him. Don't got any other options. But once I do, Im kicking him to the curve" closing the box back over the little one, he carried it inside as he closed the door behind him.

A few years later:

The room would be quiet as the cieling fan ringed around the room. Paper bags and wrappers scattered everywhere as everything seed untouched. But among them, Milo. Peaking out from behind a pillar as he scanned the the area as he check around. "...looks like the close it clear" he whispered to himself. Taking baby steps along the carpet as he parted one strand apart to the next. Circling around plastic wrapper as they covering around his path. But he almost tripped one of them as a little crinkle echoed from it. His heart nearly stopped in place as he gazes around the room. But nothing happened.

"phew that was close" he whispered in relief "Now I just gotta make it to the-" **Stomp!** as Milo turned around, a foot landed horizontally in front of him as the air escaping grom underneath it rushed out to him. "Shit!" He yelled as ran the other way, but another foot would block his path as its side glided him back to the center, nudging him over to the ground as its toes laid over his waist. As he looked up, the figure he tried hard to avoid would be glaring down at him. Their almost identifiable if they hadn't shifted into the ceiling's light. "Grgh! Hey dad!"

"Milo, just where do you think you're off to?"

"Oh you know, just a..counting the wrappers. Did you know that have at least 36 wrappers of the same kIND" the above would add slight pressure as Milo wheezed out his sentence.

"Don't lie to me, you've tried that before"

"Oh...I have...well, I guess you already knew that then"

"How many times do I have to tell you, you're too much of a runt to be venturing around out" he groaned as he walked around. Lightly carrying Milo with him as his foot cushioned into the carpet.

"**gch!** you already **Gch!** told me enough"

"Clearly it didn't sink in" he walked a little further as before he sat on a couch. Letting his weight sink into it as adjust his back along one of the pillows. Pulling out his shaft as he used his free hand to pick up Milo. "Why if I were some other giant, i would take you all for himself. Maybe use you as a-"

"deodorant scenter or be a jocks sweaty clean wrag. Yeah I know, you told a thousand times" he mocked from his lecture, his dad's shaft soon crashed into him as its length slouched over him. "Gch!"

"And that's exactly why you wouldn't survive, that mouth of yours" crossing his legs. He wrapped his thighs around Milo and placed his feet onto a table. Turning on the Tv, he sat back as shook his shoulders to get comfortable.

"Dad! Its too tight in here! Do you have any idea how hot it is in here!" His dad heard from between him. Turning up the volume in response as he squeezed a little harder "Deal with it, perhaps it'll knock some sense into you" he replied. Drawing no more attention to him as he focus went to the program.

"Dad!...Hey!..Nngh jerk" gritted under his breath, pushing against the little space in between as the thick organ above pulsed. With the head tucked just between his feet, it was already too crowded to even move. Let alone breathe as the frowsty scent lingered in almost all directions. "Dad! If you don't get me out this I'll...I'll..uh..im gonna take a bite at your leg"

"You don't have the balls"

"You forced my hand" he gritted, planting his face into one of his thighs. But his teeth would grab hairs as the flesh was too thick to chomp on. "peh, aah old man hair"

"Oh my, quite the bite Milo. Maybe a little more and it might tickle" his dad mocked in response. Sending Milo into flury, but only came across as mere wiggles. Overtime, He would let out a firm yawn as his eyes started to become droopy. "Cheer up Milo...it's for your own good"

"Hey, Don't you fall asleep. Hey!"

An hour later:

His dad would be sound asleep at this points as his body slumpted against the chair. His feet still perched up on the table as his legs crossed over one another. But as they uncrossed, a patch of flesh would be moving near his crotch as little limbs poked out from underneath. Its arms reaching out forward as it smacked down against the tender muscles. Pulling themselves out, Milo's head would stick out from them as his face glistened with sweat. "I swear, he's gonna regret this.." The groaned as he hoisted himself out. His body slipping through them with a slight jerk as it too was also coated in sweat. Getting to his feet, he wiped himself off as he looked at his did from his lap. "Of course he's asleep. Old man never was one to stay out of his sleep time. There's no way I can reach the door when im all the way up here" he said frustratingly. But his gaze soon drew towards the window as his expression change. "then again, maybe I don't have to.."

Slowly crawling off his dad, he hopped onto the arm of the chair as he made his way toward a wooden edge holding just underneath the window. Climbing himself up, he made his way towards the window as he saw the pile of leaves around the other side. But a snore from behind him would make him look back as the as his dad remained slumpted on the chair. "I'll show you I can handle myself.." He said under his breath. Hopping off the edge in the process as he landed in the leaves. The pile was deeper than expected as the leaves around sunk underneath his weight. But thankfully they were light enough to push as the sounds of little rustles ranged inside. A couple of leaves soon pushing out towards the grass as Milo appeared from it. "Alright...made it out. Not too bad" He said to himself. Making his way out of the grass as he walked along the sidewalk.

A street light would be glowing just a few feet away from it as Milo walked towards it. The surrounding it as cars and bicycles drove further ahead. "Heh, either this all that's out there or the old man was exagerating. Look at it, its ginormous sure, but nothings out here to harm me. And im gonna prove it" turning into a sprint, he ran down the sidewalk as he past the hovering street light. Turning around a corner as he saw a city in the far distance. Its glow would coat the skies as even the clouds illuminated a white outline. "Whoa, its so beautiful, way bigger than when what it was like back inside" Milo said in awe. Observing the moving lights amongst it as it mixed between collars.

"Help!" A little voice yelped

"huh?" Hearing the voice, Milo went to go find find it as he looked around the area. But couldn't find anything. But the sounds of shuffling would start to linger as he approached a gap between a house. Peeking over, he noticed two guys hovering above him as the two stood next to each other. A little guy would be dangling from one of their hands as as they flailed around the air.

"Let me go!"

"You hear that? He wants us to let him go"

"Aww, but he looks so adorable yelling like that. Sadly, he doesn't have a choice" one of them said, flipping them around their hand as they clasped around them with their palm. Holding his grip in place as the little guy poked his head out. "But if he wants to be let go, I got a stomach that more than happy to keep him occupied"

"Hey?!" Milo yelled out to them.

"Huh?" As the the two looked back at towards him. Tye little guy in hand would bite down on the hand that clasped him. Forcing the giant to flick his hand in response as the little guy dropped to the ground. "Gch! The little bastard bit me" he gritted in rage, watching the little guy scurry away as he darted between a gap a fence behind them. Turning his gaze back towards Milo, the two would tower above him as one they both squatted down.

"You.." The angered one said as he reached for him.

"Oh crap!" Milo yelped in response. Managing to get a few steps in before a large hand brought him upwards. Fingers snagged onto his shirt as the large nail pierced through the fabric.

"You cost me a litte one runt, that's not wise"

"Hehe, was that yours?" He said sheepishly. Looking away from the giant as he glared at him. But could feel his eyes see through soul as he looked from left to right. "I didn't uh..know that. But at least you got what you paid hehe"

"Check this one out, thinks he's a comedian" the other giant said

"Well his jokes aren't quite funny. Let's say we give him something pointer" opening his pants, he pulled the fabric away from his waist as his shaft slouched with the fabriced pocket. Sweat stains coated the bottom as a spot near the tip would be fresh. Dropping him inside, he waited until he rolled all the way down as he watched his face lodge into his inner thigh. Snapping it back in place before he groped at the intruding bulge inside.

"What is it with giant's stuffing things in their underwears?" Milo muffled. The thick flesh knocking into him as his body brusged through the hair surrounding the thick legs. And two boulders just to the right of him as he could the wall of fingers wrapped around the fingers. Pushing him ever so closer into them as their coated sweat started to soak into his clothes. "alright then...gch!"

"Hey! Why so quiet down there funny man? Where those jokes from before" the giant taunted as he groped harder. His hand now fondling at the bulge as it now clapped against its surface. But a sharp sting made it flinch aways as the giant crossed his legs. "Gah! Damn bastard bi-ah!" Another sting would resonate from inside as he bent legs further. A flurry of them following soon after as he forces himself to push his hand in. But as he went to retrieve myself, he felt him cling onto something inside as he it seemed to tug at his balls.

"Oh no...don't pull me now, thought you wanted me in here" Milo gritted from his closed jaw. Ball hairs trailing out from it as the anchored along the wrinkled folds.

"Dammit, let go"

"you seriously having trouble with a squirt that size?"

"You shut your trap" he barked back. Continuing his pulls as he gave in one last tug. Feeling Milo grip release, but not without sharp sensation from his sack as the hairs that were being tugged were pulled off. Strands appearing with Milo as he was dangled by his legs.

"Enjoy the jokes" he snarked as he spat the hairs out.

"oh you've got balls for making a fool out me, but that ends here" The giant said furious. Gaping his mouth open as he went to drop Milo in.

"Woah! Woah! Let's not be hasty"

"Yeah, man" the other giant taunted "don't let the poor runt make a fool out of- gah"

"Huh?" The giant said confused as turned around. The other falling towards the ground as he was knocked unconscious. Behind his slumpt form, would be a more larger figure as their upper half was covered by shadow. "Who the hell are you?"

"Someone that's too pissed to deal with weaklings like you. So I suggest you drop the pipsqueak or end up like your friend here"

"Like hell I will!" They rushed in with a punch. But the figure stood to the side as his momentum made him tumble to the ground. Milo tumbling along with them as rolled a few feet away.

"Ooh..my head" Milo said in a dazed state. The giant figure soon overshadowing him as he glared down at him. But as their back turned into against the light. Their silhouette would illuminate as a familiar face could be seen above. "Dad?"

"Don't dad me, what do you think you're doing out here Milo?! You had me stressed trying to find you"

"you..were trying to find me"

"Would I not have come out otherwise. And look at you, damn near gobbled up by one these saps"

"I'll show you sap" the one that fell reach out. But a heavy foot would land at there back as they were forced down.

"Pipe down weakling!" His dad said in response. Letting out a forceful sigh, he plucked Milo off the ground. "And think your off the hook yet, when we get home you're gonna-" he felt milo wrapped around his nose as he brought himself closer.

"Thanks dad...im glad you my back" milo said happily, nuzzling into his dad's nose more. For a moment his dad's expression would be soft as he looked down at him. But his stern would return as he pulled him away.

"Yeah yeah, i know. But you're still in trouble for sneaking out" he says pulling out his shaft. Tilting it upward just enough as he pinched around his slit. Inserting Milo inside as he shimmied his body in with his thumb. "And for that, you're spending the week in my balls. Already smell like sweat as it is" shoving his head in, he planted his thumb over the slit as a firmly squelch soon followed. Not even wanting to look at the bulge that traveled through its length, but instead focused on the feeling as it gulped Milo past his base. "This kid's going give me stress hairs" his dad said as he pulled up his pants. Giving one last stomp on the giant below him as he eased his weight off. Disappearing back into the shadows as his footsteps grew softer.

A week later:

His dad would be watching Tv as his program jist ended for the day. Switching to another channel, he felt his shaft begin to rise as his sack was now more heavier. "Guess its time for you to come out" he said to himself, gripping onto its length as he slowly started to stroke it. Grabbing a cup in the process as he stuck it against the head. As the shaft start to leak pre, its shaft would start to move as cum began to build inside. A lump soon traveling along with it as it swelled underneath the head. Depositing contents inside like as pod as a wad of cum slouched into the cup. Milo being caught in its center as its gunk slumpt off his side. His dad soon plucking him out he went to go wash him off at the sink.

"Thanks...dad"

"You're alot more appreciative this time around good"

"Yeah..." Milo said in a low tone, gazing up at the window as the sun shined through. His dad would catch a glimpse of this as he rolled his eyes. Opening up a pocket towards him as he lowered it against his palm. "Get in, we're going for a walk"

"What really?!"

"Yeah really, might as well let you have a bit of experience outside. But don't think this makes up for the stunt you pulled"

"thanks dad" he said as he went in for a hug "I-" a thumb would stop his approach as it push him back.

"Hey, no hugs. Now get in before I chang my mind"

"Heh, yes sir" he replied in response. Smiling to himself as he hopped into the pocket.

"Ai, this kid" he rolled his eyes, but a light smile following along with it as he closed the pocket. But letting a button hang off it as so Milo could peak out. With that, he made his way toward the door as he went on with his day. Carrying Milo along with him as walked in a slow stride.

[a-dragons-journal]

i dont "kin for fun" but through tiktok i found out about the whole kin for fun vs actual otherkin... situation ig? im having a really hard time taking it seriously... maybe im just burnt out and bitter from dealing with the worlds current events, and maybe its because on tiktok the only people i saw mad about it were white people, but you're the most reasonable person ive seen talking about it (a lot of other posts have this odd tone that 12 year olds on tiktok saying kin is the worlds greatest opression and it weirds me out) so ig my question is just... why exactly does this matter? why does it matter enough to post about and care about and not just ignore? /gen

Hey! I don’t blame you for being a bit weirded out by it, we’re a weird subculture and we’re well aware of it! xD I appreciate you taking the time to actually look into it past your first knee-jerk reaction, especially considering burnout and the state of things.

I’m not totally sure if you’re asking why otherkinity matters or why the “kin for fun” being wrong matters, so I’ll answer both - they’re pretty well tied together anyway.

The short version:

Otherkinity is an identity. It’s who we are, we can’t choose to pick it up or put it down, and it comes with struggles - though no, ‘kin are not systematically oppressed (though we are pretty badly bullied and, at this point, pushed out of our own words and spaces).

What people calling roleplay/relating to/projecting onto characters “kinning for fun” does is steal our words, make them meaningless, and in doing so, make it difficult or impossible for us to find each other. If someone says “I kin [x],” I no longer know whether they mean “I am [x] on an intrinsic level” or “haha I relate to this character a lot”. I no longer know whether they actually share my experiences or if they’re going to turn on me and call me “crazy” as soon as they realize I’m not exaggerating or joking or roleplaying. It’s done massive harm to the community as a whole because it’s become difficult to tell whether someone is actually ‘kin or if they’ve misunderstood the whole thing - and because antikin rhetoric, which I’m seeing more and more in KFF spaces, hurts far more when it’s coming from inside what you thought was a community space than when it’s coming from self-labeled “antikin.”

There are other words for roleplaying and relating to and projecting onto characters. Hell, there are words for strongly identifying with-but-not-as characters/things, though usually KFF people don’t even seem serious enough for those to fit in my experience. I’m really not sure why these people are so determined to steal and misuse our words, words that were specifically created to mean something else, when they already have their own and are just refusing to use them. (Or, hell, if you don’t feel like those fit, make your own. We did. It’s your turn to put in the work. (General you, not you-the-anon, of course.))

An analogy, if that still doesn’t quite land for you:

Consider, for a moment, the transgender community. I am aware this is a dangerous thing to say, but bear with me. Obvious CW for hypothetical transphobia up ahead is obvious.

Consider if you were part of the trans community (I don’t know if you are or not), having finally found a word to explain why you feel the way you do about yourself, why your experiences don’t seem to match up with those of everyone else around you. Having found a community, a home, full of other people like you, people you never would have met if not for words like “transgender” and “gender dysphoria/euphoria” that were created specifically to describe your experiences.

Now consider if people suddenly stumbled across your community for the first time who were not trans themselves. They see community jokes and lighthearted posts out of context, because Tumblr and Twitter aren’t exactly conducive to making sure people find the Transgender 101 information posts first. They don’t bother to do further research, assuming they understand: ah, these people like to crossdress! They like to pretend they’re a different gender! This seems like a fun hobby, I want in!

They begin to post things like this. They post photos of them crossdressing and caption them “hi, I’m [name], and I trans men!” and things of the like. Suddenly the concept of “transing for fun” seems to be everywhere - and it’s not at all what being trans actually is, but these people either don’t know or don’t care. When actual trans people try to politely correct them, they’re accused of “gatekeeping” - and to be clear, this is not “nonbinary people aren’t real,” it’s “transgender means you identify as a gender other than the one you were assigned at birth, and you’re self-identifying as the gender you were assigned at birth 100% and telling us this is just a fun hobby for you, therefore you’re not trans, you’re crossdressing or doing drag or being GNC. That’s fine, but it’s not being trans - you have other words to describe that, use those.”

(Yes, I am aware these things have a history with the trans community - please just ignore that for the sake of the analogy and bear with me on the slightly simplified version of this. “Kinning for fun” does not have that same history with the otherkin community.)

...And then the response to those attempted corrections, in some corners, turns into “wait, you ACTUALLY think you’re another gender? idk that sounds pretty unhealthy, maybe you should see a psychologist or something :\” and “you’re taking this too seriously.”

I imagine, in this hypothetical scenario, you’d also be pretty fuckin peeved.

(Obviously, in this hypothetical scenario, systematic transphobia would be an issue as well, which isn’t the case for otherkin - again, you’re gonna have to bear with me on the simplification for sake of analogy there.)

(EDIT: this is not an anti-MOGAI/exclusionist argument, this is “you’re literally telling me you don’t fit the definition,” explanation on that here)

The long version, which is probably still worth reading if you have the time and energy:

Otherkinity is... pretty core to who I am, who we as a group of individuals are. We live with being otherkin on a daily basis. Many of us spent a long time feeling different and disconnected and not understanding why until we found the otherkin community. Even people like me, who don’t share that experience and still had social connection - I’ve still had to live with weird differences that I had to learn to mask when necessary; instincts that don’t line up with human society well, feeling body parts that weren’t there and that no one else ever seemed to have, things that other kids grew out of because it was just make-believe for them and I... didn’t, because it was never make-believe for me to begin with. Oh, sure, I played make-believe too - I played warrior cats and house and all those things with the other kids, but there were things that weren’t play-pretend for me too. I didn’t have an explanation for it for a long time - it was just how I was, I was weird, and fortunately for me personally I was okay with that (many of those with species dysphoria or more trouble connecting with humans have more problems from that than I did).

And then I found the word “otherkin.” And suddenly everything fell into place, and I had an explanation for the things I’d been experiencing, and there were other people like me. Something I’d assumed didn’t exist. I found others who shared my unique experiences, who were talking about how to cope with the instinct to growl or snap jaws at people instead of expressing annoyance in a human way instead of just saying “that’s weird, don’t do that”, who were talking about dealing with phantom wings and tails, who understood me. I wasn’t weird, I wasn’t broken, I was exactly what one would expect from a dragon living in human skin. I found an explanation for myself. I found a home.

That is why otherkinity matters - it is who we are, it’s not something we can walk away from (certainly not most of us, anyway), and it’s something many of us need the support of the community to help deal with on a daily basis. Being a nonhuman in human society isn’t always easy, but it’s not something we can just magically stop being - it’s core to who we are, we (generally) didn’t choose to be this way, and we (generally) can’t choose to stop. Which is fine - the vast majority of us can cope with it just fine, with a little advice and help and space to be our authentic selves in. We found each other, we built this community from the ground up to make a space and words to make finding each other easier - or possible at all.

Thus we come to the second half of our story.

It was only a couple of years ago that the “kin for fun” trend started getting big. It had existed before that, of course, but it only started going mainstream two, maybe three years ago, from what I can tell. Suddenly people were treating “kin” like it meant relating to, projecting onto, roleplaying as, or just really really liking a character or thing - not being that thing, which is what it actually means. Not long after that, it became hard to tell whether someone saying “I kin this” meant they were that thing, that they were actually part of our community - or that they really really liked that thing and either didn’t know or couldn’t be bothered to learn that that wasn’t the case for us.

Not long after that, it became relatively commonplace to hear phrases like “otherkin are ruining kinning!!” and “you’re taking this too seriously” and “idk, if it’s that serious for you that sounds unhealthy. maybe you should get some help :\” (all directly quoted, or as exactly quoted as I can remember, from things KFF people have said to me or people I know).

It is a special kind of hell, I think, to be told “you’re taking this too seriously, that’s unhealthy” by people who are taking words created to describe your experiences, not theirs, and misusing them to mean something that you do for fun on a weekend instead of something that’s intrinsic to your being.

Perhaps more importantly, like I’ve said, it’s making it almost impossible to know whether someone who says “I kin [x]” is actually ‘kin or if they’re misusing our words to mean something else entirely. The entire point of words is to communicate ideas, and once you start misusing words to mean something totally different than what they actually mean, that communication falls apart and suddenly we might as well not have those words at all. Especially when the community is small enough and obscure enough that we’re starting to be outnumbered by the misinformation. We’re being run out of our own words, words we created to describe our experiences specifically - because we’re a small community that the wider internet can easily drown out by sheer numbers of people who either don’t know any better or don’t care to learn.

That’s the harm it does - the harm it is doing, right now. That’s why it’s important enough to post about. That’s why it matters - because we’re fighting desperately to hang onto our own words so that others like us can actually find us. Because we’re seeing young nonhumans go “this isn’t a kin, I actually am this” and screaming “No, I’m so sorry that this is what the misinformation has done to you, that’s exactly what otherkin means, you have a place here, please don’t let these non-’kin misusing our words drive you away from the very community you’re looking for and that you belong in.” Because we can’t even communicate effectively about our own experiences anymore except in semi-closed spaces like Discord servers and forums (and the number of Discord servers overrun with KFF people is absurd).

......This got very long. Hopefully it at least explained why it matters so much to me and others a bit better ^^; Thanks for hearing me out, and thank you again for looking into this beyond your initial knee-jerk reaction - I really do appreciate it.

(For further reading, if that text wall didn’t blow you out of the water completely, I recommend my “kin for fun” tag, which has more posts like this in both short and long form.)

[carpisuns]

New anon, but I saw the last one and I have some thoughts. Specifically, I have been obsessing over ml for the last month or so, and I’ve only seen three episodes, and they were the three released before crocoduel. And you know what? I wasn’t that into it, it wasn’t bad it just wasn’t half as engaging as fanon and fanworks have been for me.

I’ve also done this with the Magicians, Supernatural, and a couple others. I think the reason that this works, for some people, is because it is a more familiar and in many ways, easier way to discover and become attached to new material and new characters. Fan writers and artists are coming from a place of love for their source material (no matter what issues they may have with it) and that bleeds out into their work. Time is spent developing the characters and their feelings, their relationships, in ways that canon so often can’t or isn’t allowed to, and reading that, it’s very easy to fall in love with new characters very quickly. There’s also common AUs and dynamics that make it much easier to start something new.

And also: comfort characters. So many fans find common ground with characters and further project onto them, particularly in fanfic. And because of that it’s often easier to identify with a fan’s interpretation of a character than it is to identify with the canon’s, since you have these more deeply explored feelings and relationships based on a combination of canon and the personal experiences of the fan writer. Also, with these kinds of fics it’s extremely emotionally affirming since for someone who doesn’t have much of any connection with the source material, it feels like the original, even if you’re reading a large body of work by a lot of different people. And I’m so used to fanfic as a substitute for the emotional work and character development that shows/movies/books don’t have room for or aren’t willing to get into, that approaching a fandom as it’s own original piece of media in a way, feels very comforting.

That’s my perspective on it anyways, and why I do this. I do think it is a good thing to engage with the canon to an extent, even if it’s just watching a few clips (how I found ml) but I also don’t think you need any real connection or knowledge of it to be deeply invested in the fandom. Sorry, this got very long.

you know, i totally get being on, like, the fringe of fandoms and interacting with fanon to an extent without a proper investment in canon (I have a couple fandoms like that), but i honestly just can't imagine becoming super invested in a fandom when I am not invested in the source material...maybe that's just a difference between you and me, idk.

but also, i gotta admit that i'm struggling a bit to understand the reason. you yourself pointed out that fan work is enjoyable because the creator's love for canon bleeds into it. and isn't that the reason that you would want to give canon a real chance? obviously there is fan content made out of spite lol (and sadly a fair amount in this fandom), but to me most fan content is like a love letter to canon. like, "i adore this thing so much that it inspired me to create and share with other people who adore it." and what better recommendation is there than that?? i would think people would wanna familiarize themselves with canon in order to better enjoy fanon(?)

i completely understand your point about fan content delving further into characterization and relationships where canon hasn't/can't, and that is such a big appeal of fanfic/fanart. but i don't feel like that's a reason to not engage with canon? on the contrary, i feel like you are missing something important in your understanding and appreciation of that wonderful exploration if you haven't experienced firsthand the foundation that canon set. and maybe that missing thing is just your personal interpretation of a character/dynamic.

for example, i could say, "adrien agreste is this, this, and this and he would do this but not this." and of course i will think im right because my characterization is always perfect 😌sakjdfaldjks but someone else might have a slightly different interpretation, and someone else will have another interpretation, and when you mush all those individual takes on a character together, you will get a good sense of who they are, but you still don't have the Original™️ to draw your own interpretation from. idk, to me it sounds like basing your opinion of chocolate ice cream on what other people are saying about it without ever trying it yourself? ajsldakljf maybe that's an oversimplification but i do think that without experiencing it for yourself, your understanding will always be kind of incomplete.

idk, i big agree with everything you said about why fan content is special, but everything that is a point in fanon's favor is not a knock on canon. to me fan content feels pretty inseparable from canon, so it just doesn't compute to me to take canon out of the equation? then we would have nothing.

i feel like it's almost kinda trendy nowadays to be like, "oh this show actually sucks lmao but the fanon and AUs are good." like it's shameful to actually...enjoy source material? 😭 i mean i completely understand that miraculous ladybug is not gonna be everyone's cup of tea and that's fine! but if you truly enjoy the fan content that much i encourage you to give canon a real shot. it's not that surprising to me that you watched 3 recent episodes and didn't vibe that much, since you haven't seen the 3 seasons of buildup that lead to them. miraculous has a neat way of tying a bunch of things together so if you aren't familiar with all of it, you're probably missing out.

personally my love for miraculous was kind of a slowburn at first. i only started watching the show because my sister and i made a deal that forced me to watch the first few eps lol. and i didn't really vibe either. but there must have been enough of a spark there for me to keep watching bc for some reason i did and the more i watched the more i fell in love with it until it became the thing that occupies my brain more than anything else. i started with canon and then got into fanon, but it could easily go the other way too. and if you're already invested in the story and characters, i have to imagine it would be much easier to push past the initial cringe of "this is a show about a couple of teen furries rated TV-Y7 on netflix" lol and give anything you don't vibe with the benefit of the doubt.

again, to be clear, i'm not trying to judge or gatekeep here! i'm just saying this because i genuinely LOVE miraculous. it's my favorite show. that's why i make things for it. that's why i have this blog. i want people to watch it. so maybe, pwetty pwease, try watching the show you like so much? 🥺👉👈

(source bc i was too lazy to make my own so i stole this from twitter)