#(just in case. this is sfw and he doesn't actually do anything other than draw reader naked lol)

[glimmeringtwilight]

On this mountain, a cold wind blows

Here's the Albedo fic for the 500 celebration! Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for being so supportive and patient even though updates have been slow lately <3

Pairing: Albedo/Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

CW/TW: Drugging, yandere themes, non-consensual touching, implied non-consensual somno.

You’re beginning to think Albedo’s hiding something from you. 

It’s been storming all week– evident from the howling of the wind, the rattling of the window panes, the obscured snowy expanse beyond the glass. 

You’re only here because you’d gotten stuck in the storm, and you’re incredibly lucky that Albedo decided to brave the storm to collect his supplies from the cave you’d taken shelter in. You don’t remember much of what happened– just taking shelter to wait out what you thought would be a quick storm, falling asleep, then… waking up here.

He told you that he’d found you curled up and freezing, unresponsive when he checked on you. There was no way you’d have made it if he hadn’t found you, but he was wise enough to leave that much unsaid. 

That was a week ago, and by now you’ve gotten over the hypothermia after a few days of close, slightly intrusive monitoring from the alchemist. He means well, though, and you’re grateful for him saving your life, so you didn’t protest his hovering. 

Despite the circumstances, he doesn’t treat you like a burden; doesn’t seem put out that he has to share his cabin with you for the time being. You help around where you can– when you can, as Albedo seems hellbent on not letting you lift a finger, insisting that anything more than just wandering around the cabin or reading is too great a strain for you while you’re recovering. 

Recovering from what, you don’t know. You feel fine, and though you had a mild cold the first few days of your stay, Albedo’s diligence and thorough treatments got you over your illness faster than you’d recovered from any in the past. 

You want to say his concern for you is a little endearing, but… you’re not sure. Albedo’s a little strange. 

By all accounts, you should be grateful. Well… you are grateful. He saved you. He saved you, and yet… You can’t dispel the unease that coils in your gut when you catch him staring at you instead of his research, when you wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth, when he brushes those cold finger against your forehead to check your temperature, when he watches you a little too intently as you eat. 

“I just want to be sure you’re eating well.”

“You look a little feverish.”

“Just a little something to help you sleep, should you need it.”

He’s just concerned for you, even if his behavior is a little odd– puts you on edge just a little bit. You try not to think about it. He must not get out much, much less speak to other people very often, living up here. 

It’s fine. It’s fine, you tell yourself, and you force yourself to believe it too, because it’s better than the alternative. When you look out the window to an endless expanse of white, snow so thick you can’t see much beyond the sill, you know you don’t have much choice. 

One week turns into two, the howling winds and rattling window panes becoming a familiar background noise as you keep yourself entertained with the books Albedo keeps on his bookshelf.

His oddities gradually stop putting you so on edge, and it’s a little endearing how awkward he is with you, if anything. You enjoy the company. Granted, he’s your only choice of company, but at least he’s pleasant enough to be around. 

He doesn’t have much for you to do in his cabin; he has a few history books on civilizations you’ve never even heard the names of, and he lets you help him with his experiments when they’re safe enough. Most of it is just handing him clean beakers and test tubes, but getting to watch chemical reactions taking place is fascinating nonetheless. 

The third week trudges on, however, and you’re beginning to get a little stir crazy. The storm continues to howl outside, and cabin fever sinks its claws into you. 

Albedo insists it’s not safe to make the journey back down the mountain yet, and no amount of begging on your part has made him budge. You considered just making the trip down yourself, but you can’t find any of the supplies you’d taken with you on your journey up. Albedo tells you he didn’t have time to retrieve them from the cave when he’d found you, that he’d instead just rushed you back to shelter to warm you up. 

But the storm hasn’t once let up or died down. The howling winds have been a constant background noise, and you don’t think you’ve ever known a storm to drag on this long, not even on the very peak of Dragonspine. 

When you bring this up to Albedo, there’s this weird look in his eye before he brushes you off, saying something about a “Skyfrost Nail” making the climate here unstable, and such storms aren’t really so uncommon up as near to the peak as the two of you are. 

He’s been going out more lately, too. Whenever you ask to tag along he tells you he only has one coat, and that once the storm clears he’ll look for your supplies or, failing that, stop by the nearest town to buy something warm enough to safely get you back down the mountain. 

But the storm never clears, and it's too dangerous for him to make the trek back to the cave where he'd found you. His outings are mostly spent looking for herbs and specimens, and most of the trek is wasted clearing a path in the snow anyway, he says.

It’s boring when he leaves, with not much else to do but watch the hearth or read the same history book for the fourth time. He has other books, sure, but many of them are clearly intended for learned scholars; their jargon far too confusing for you to really understand. 

So, today you watch the hearth, alternating between that and drawing shapes in the fog gathering on the glass of the window. You should ask to borrow some of Albedo’s art supplies; you think you remember seeing him painting something a week ago. He wouldn’t let you look at what it was, though… Maybe he’s just not confident enough in his abilities. 

Eventually, the window chills your joints stiff from drawing absent-minded shapes in the condensation, the fire in the hearth starts to burn low, and Albedo still hasn’t returned. It’s starting to get dark out, so you get up to toss another log onto the fire to keep it going. 

Something shiny catches your eye just as you’re turning back to return to your seat beside the window, and you pause.

In the ashes, something glints at you. A coin? You reach forward and catch yourself– you can’t just stick your hand in the ashes while the fire is still going. But the poker you’ve seen Albedo use in the past when tending to the hearth is nowhere to be seen. Weird. Did he misplace it?

Albedo likely won’t be back for another few hours if he hasn’t returned by now, and you have nothing better to do, so… You walk around the cabin looking for something to fish out the coin without burning yourself, eventually settling on one of the ladles from the kitchen. …You’ll be sure to wash it thoroughly when you’re done. 

You scoop the coin (and a lot of ash) out from the hearth, dumping it out onto the ground beside the fire. It’s filthy, and without thinking you try to wipe some of the ash off the face of it, burning your thumb. You pull back with a hiss, returning to the kitchen to run the burn under some cold water (and clean the ladle while you’re at it). 

Thankfully, the burn is mild. Just a little bit of irritation, nothing Albedo will notice and fuss over. He mother hens enough as-is. 

When you come back to the coin and the small pile of ash in the living room, it’s finally cool enough to pick up. You clean it off with the corner of your shirt, holding it up to the light of the fire, and your stomach sinks. 

This is your coin. This is your coin, given to you at a young age by your grandfather before he passed. 

For good luck, he’d told you. It was an old coin he’d found when he was an adventurer, leftover from the ruins of an ancient civilization. You can even see the deep scratch left in the surface of it, from one of the many stories your grandfather told you while proclaiming this coin had saved his life. 

What is your coin doing in Albedo’s hearth? You’d kept it with– no. 

No, it was with your other things. Albedo said he left your belongings in the cave. But there’s no mistaking it: this is your coin. From the scratches on its surface, the dull splotches of corrosion, to the worn details on its face. 

You’re not given much time to dwell on it, interrupted from your racing thoughts by the sound of turning locks, the loud cries of the wind and a rush of cold air at your back before it’s quickly muted, and the door slamming shut. 

“I’m back.” 

You look up from the floor to the alchemist kicking the snow off his boots and hanging his coat on the hanger besides the door. He pauses when he turns to you, turquoise eyes taking in the sight of you still kneeling beside a pile of ash near the hearth. 

“Are you-”

“This is my coin.” You interrupt, holding up the coin for him to see. “It was in the hearth. Why?”

“Ah.” And he turns away, adjusting his boots to sit properly beside the entry before moving past you toward the cluttered desk he keeps in the corner. “I should have checked the pockets, then. My apologies.”

“What?”

“It must have been in your jacket.”

“You burned my jacket?” You fist the fabric of your shirt, fingers curling around the coin so harshly it bites into your skin, “Why?”

He turns back to you, those sharp eyes flitting to your clenched fists, then to your thumb. "You're injured."

"Albedo."

Albedo's already turning away, heading for the hall– to grab the first aid kit, you suppose– and you grit your teeth.

He's not listening, but you know from your stay here with the alchemist that losing your temper and snapping at him will get you nowhere. You bite back the indignation burning hot on your tongue.

"Albedo. I'm fine." When he looks back at you over his shoulder, you emphasize your point with a grin that likely looks more like bared teeth than anything else. "Just answer the question... Please."

“I told you, didn’t I? I had to cut it off you when I found you.” He most definitely did not tell you that. Frankly, you almost want to smack yourself for not asking.

“So you just burned it? I could have patched it up!” 

Albedo at least has the decency to look embarrassed, at that, but he doesn’t offer an apology. Instead, he heads back towards his desk and says, “I suppose you could have,” and starts thumbing through his notes. 

You suck in a breath through your teeth, about to argue further, when you realize something. 

Albedo said he burned your jacket. You put your coin with the rest of your things in the bag you were carrying before making the trek up. You know you did, because you remember quietly joking to yourself when the weather began to turn that it was because you hadn’t kept the coin in the breast pocket of your jacket– close to your heart, like your grandfather used to. 

“Albedo?” Would he tell you the truth if you asked? If he’s lying to you, would he come clean if you pry? Should you?

The anger that was building in your chest dims, cooling quickly as trepidation takes its place. ...What reason would Albedo have to lie?

Your eyes flit to the space where the fire poker should be. Albedo doesn’t look up from his work, already engrossed in whatever it is in the notes he’s reviewing, “Hm?”

“...Nevermind. I’m going to bed.” He hums in affirmation as you stand, and you hesitate by the hall to make sure he doesn’t follow you. You don’t go into your room, stepping as quietly as you can manage into his. 

This is a bad idea. You don't want to piss off the man who saved your life– who has been kind enough to share his home with you until the storm passes, but...

Something in your gut encourages you to look. You just need to check one thing, and then you'll drop it. You have to know.

He’s never explicitly forbidden you from his room in the cabin, but you still refused to set foot inside until now, at most lingering in the doorway to ask him a question on the rare occasion you found him in there instead of at his desk or in his study.

But he did ask you to stay away from the closet. If he did have your things, he couldn't have burned all of it, so... Maybe that's why you were instructed to stay away.

Still. You hope you're wrong.

Your heart feels like it’s crawling up your throat, the distinct feeling of "you shouldn’t be here" suffocating you, but you have to know. You stumble through the dim lighting, hardly waiting for your eyes to adjust before you’re stepping further into the room and groping around for the door handle to the closet. 

You find it after a few tense seconds of searching blindly in the dark for it, hand curling around the handle before you’re pulling it open. You’re about to start looking for a light source when a voice pipes up behind you. 

“I suppose I should have expected this,” Albedo says, and you barely register his hand pressing firmly against your back, between your shoulder blades, before he’s shoving you into the closet.

You land harshly on an uncomfortable, lumpy pile of… something, head knocking against the wall. Stars erupt behind your eyelids and when you open your eyes light floods your vision. You hear the door slam and lock behind you, Albedo’s voice coming out muffled from the other side. 

“I’ll be right back.”

“Albedo-” You start, forcing out the words as you struggle to process, spots dancing in your vision and vertigo overtaking you as you prop yourself up, “Albedo, what-”

“You wanted to know, didn’t you?” His voice gets farther away and you can hear him leave the room, heading down the hall. 

You’re about to call out after him– “What? Come back!” –but the hand you’re propping yourself up with slips, paper crumpling under your fingertips, and you glance down. 

It’s you. Sketches of you, hundreds of them, many of you in your sleep. There’s a few of you reading or staring out the window, or staring blankly into the hearth, one of you out cold at the table after a meal. 

Most concerningly, many of these sketches seem to be of you in various states of undress, scars and scrapes from your adventures penned in horrifying, careful detail. 

You can’t take your eyes away, gaze flitting from picture to picture as your head continues to swim, bile building in the back of your throat. 

You sit there, staring at the collection of drawings in horror, until Albedo returns. The closet door swings open and he grabs you by the arm before you can scramble away, dragging you out of the closet with a strength that doesn't match his lanky frame. 

“Albedo-” 

“Hush. This will only sting for a moment,” He says, producing a needle and frowning when you flinch away, trying to pull your arm from his grasp. “It won’t kill you. It’s just a sedative.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about-” You start, but he doesn’t let you finish the thought, yanking you into his chest by the iron grip on your bicep. 

There’s a sharp pinch at your nape, chased by the burn of the drug entering your system, and you fall limp.

“Why?” You whisper. "Albedo, why?"

He doesn’t respond, loosening his grip now that you’re no longer struggling and instead opting to wrap an arm around you.

You close your eyes.

The wind howls outside.

[cinnamonest]

Kaeya Alberich - Yandere Profile

YES I love my eyepatch boy!! I really like him as a yandere, because he's definitely got several traits and behaviors that would make him a very unconventional/different yet absolutely terrifying one to have. Him or Diluc as your yandere is basically like playing a game on maximum difficulty. He's so arrogant dammit why does he have to make it hot

More importantly, someone take the ability to write n/sfw away from me I s2g... I go from trying to make serious content to nasty weird kinks and completely feral in .002 seconds the moment I add that readmore

tws: gaslighting, manipulation, yandere, mentions of mutilation

tws (below cut): noncon, a good deal of sadism, mentions of an*l

-----------------

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's actually one of the worst yanderes you could have in almost every regard, for two very simple reasons: his crippling psychological issues, and his intense selfishness. The first manifests as severe abandonment issues. It's the origin of his unhealthy feelings, most likely. Kaeya doesn't like the instability of people - based on his backstory, people always leave, or die, and even if they don't intend to, somehow it feels like abandonment, and he resents it. People leave him all alone and afraid and uncertain. That's generally all he knows, and despite the smug exterior, he's actually pushed people away quite a bit, keeps everyone at arm's length to ensure they can't become someone too important for him to accept their sudden absence. He can't care about someone, because that someone is fated to inevitably leave him, no matter who it may be.

That's why, once you manage to worm your way into his feelings and heart despite his best efforts, once he finally caves to acknowledging the feeling, he's aware. Painfully aware, because be can't stop worrying every waking moment about you, your well-being, your location. It reaches a point where he can't go about his job because he's simply too consumed with his worry.

The solution that kept him safest in the past was to avoid developing emotional attachments, but when he does, he's terrified of both your safety AND you intentionally abandoning him. Really, the latter would hurt worse, since he can't fault you for dying, but to abandon him? It would break him.

And, to some extent, he's developed a lot of  prideful anger about it, deep, deep down. He feels that he doesn't deserve to be abandoned, doesn't deserve to just be left behind under the guise of some greater purpose, and he'll be damned if he just lets you toss him aside like he feels others did. Even if you reject him, he won't accept it. You don't get to reject him. He won't allow that. What has he ever done to deserve everything that's happened to him? Nothing. You're the one person who has stayed with him, and you're going to continue to be with him. Forever.

That being said, he's still somewhat confident because he's got that arrogance about him. He doesn't perceive rejection, because he's always gotten a lot of attention for his looks, even if he's never actually followed through on anyone else's attention out of those same fears. He'll write off any perceived rejection as being for some other reason, something besides an actual rejection, and he'll seek to eliminate whatever he feels is keeping you from just accepting him.

Honestly, one of the most likely to have a full blown, classic-yandere-style psychotic breakdown. He can be driven to a snapping point, if there's enough stress or obstacles, and in case of that, he'll be a lot more willing to kill, and a lot more willing to hurt you, but it's a point that would still take a lot to reach.

But what's really terrifying about Kaeya is his delusions, primarily his ability to mentally justify everything he does without hesitation. Even most delusional yanderes struggle - they feel like it's wrong, they know it is deep down, and they take time to convince themselves of their delusions, tell themselves it's ok over and over, beg for reassurance, and get defensive when called out because they know they're in the wrong. The same isn't true for Kaeya. He automatically justifies his actions by default, and has absolutely zero doubt or hesitation to do so. He doesn't even need a complex reason for justification - it's a simple one. He deserves what he wants. Anything necessary to achieve that is fair.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Highly likely and very quickly, right up there with Diluc and Razor. And he's absolutely remorseless about it. It ties back into his delusional state and ability to justify anything he does - this is what's best for you. If you don't get that, that's your problem, not his.

He's another one to not want to pull some barbaric move like knocking you out, rather, he'd rather just trick you into walking right into your new home. He gets that you'll be upset about it, but to him, that's just part of the process. Not that he'll tolerate it for too long. 12, maybe 24 hours is enough time for you to reasonably be upset, but if you're still trying to fight him on this after that, he's going to get snappy about it, thinking you should already be over that by now.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

You're not leaving.

It's not worth trying, really. How he manages to do it is a mystery to you, but he'll manage to keep you locked in right there at the headquarters with him. How Jean and Lisa haven't found out about you being there, how he convinced all of his guards to be on his side of things, you have no idea. Realistically, if you get out, he's likely to make you out to be some kind of criminal that needs to be found -- just not to hurt you in any way, so goes the order, and the knights know better than to question why.

He has eyes and ears everywhere, it won't take them anytime at all to find you. He's so confident in that, and combined with his pride, he doesn't feel the need to go get you himself. No, it's a lot more satisfying to sit back and watch as they drag you through the doors of the headquarters, slowly pull you to the end of the room and drop you down at his feet, where he can look down on you with that closed-eyed, artificially wide smile that tells you that you have seriously fucked up.

Escape attempts aren't going to be met with a single shred of mercy, really. The thing about Kaeya is he's ultimately a selfish, selfish bastard with a lot of deep-seeded, highly repressed emotional issues, and he has absolutely no problem with keeping you bound hand and foot, or maybe even make some permanent modifications to your body if that's what it takes to keep you. It's not a wise idea to even try unless you're absolutely certain to succeed, otherwise you may find yourself never getting the opportunity again. You don't really need those Achilles tendons intact, you know. And your ankle bones are just so fragile, they'll snap with just a little twist. Actually, that wouldn't be too bad, giving you more reasons to be grateful when he's doing everything for you.

He's not one to just let it go, either. No, escape attempts are the one unforgivable thing for him, the one thing that will make him totally and completely snap. You don't get to do that. You're the one thing that doesn't get to just disappear out of his life in a flash. Half the reason he sends the knights to get you rather than going himself is to give him some time to let the rage settle down, otherwise he knows he might not be able to control himself and might end up hurting you even worse than he intends to. He's not going to buy any excuses and won't go any lighter on you if you beg and grovel or anything. But you will apologize -- you get to choose how hard it is. You can apologize the easy way, or, if you don't want to, there are many ways to force it out. But by the end, he'll get an apology, and a promise to never try again, out of you, no matter what that takes. It's by far the worst state you'll ever see him in, and really, once is enough to dissuade you from trying again.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

You'd have to try pretty hard. He doesn't have the sheer amount of years of life experience like Venti or Zhongli, but he's not the captain for no reason - he's perceptive, and highly intelligent.

Rather than simply mastering reading human voice and facial expressions for telltale signs of deceit, he's good at learning individuals in particular - memorizing the patterns of thought and action of a particular individual, and predicting how they will act. He can do it with everyone else with ease, how much more, then, with the object of an obsession? If you're trying to formulate some plan to trick him, he'll already predict what you'll do, if you lie, he already knows. It's creepier than the others, really, because it's not just that he can tell when you're lying, but rather he already knows you're going to lie or try some scheme before you do it. It feels so tailored and personalized to your thought patterns, it almost feels like an invasion of the privacy of your mind, which, really, is the one privacy you thought you had left.

He's great at gaslighting himself, too. He's a very good liar, and can make you believe anything he wants. He'll target your fears and paranoias, make you believe you're going crazy, and he'll do it all so perfectly you'll never suspect a thing. You'll end up coming to him for protection and guidance, exactly as planned.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Pretty strict. He doesn't let you have any outside contact, and you're limited on what you can do when he's gone. He'll bring you some books, maybe something to draw on -- no sharp writing utensils, though. In his mind, that should be enough to occupy you.

You won't get outside walks or visits. It's just too risky for him, and he really doesn't like seeing other people look at you. If you really, really beg, and you've been on amazing behavior, and you're well into your relationship, maybe a few months or so, there's a chance he'll take you out at nighttime, or sunrise, but at the slightest sign of intentions he doesn't like, you'll be dragged back, and you won't see the sun for a long time.

You'll have a very limited wardrobe, he doesn't see why you even need to wear anything, but if you're going to be stubborn, he can get you something simple, like an old shirt and some underwear, but that's about all you can have. Any requests for actual clothing are going to be denied. It's ridiculous for him to spend money on something you don't need, and besides, he prefers it this way, y'know?

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Generally, it's a simple one: obey. You do what he tells you to do, and you don't do something if he tells you not to. This stems to similar rules that develop: be submissive, don't be argumentative, don't be defiant. Follow those, and you can both be happy, and that's what you want, isn't it? It had better be - he's not very lenient, and will harshly punish even small offenses. As for that punishment... most of it isn't going to be sfw. That's just how he is.

What he will do is emotionally manipulate you, and he's rather good at it. You wanted to escape? Ok. He'll let you have your way, let you be alone. All alone. All by yourself, in a little room, with no one at all, which is exactly how you would have left him, had you succeeded. He knows very well how that kind of loneliness bites. He's not totally cruel, though, and he won't withhold affection from you by the time he returns -- he doesn't need to, you'll already be crying and apologizing, which is exactly what he hoped for. Not that he won't briefly mock you for it.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're crying like that because you actually missed me. Oh, you did? Being all alone isn't particularly fun, now is it? I'm sure you understand that now."

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaeya's an insanely jealous person. It doesn't show on his face, but it eats at him internally. It doesn't matter if it's a love interest, a platonic friend, even a family member. It's all the same -- people who want to take your attention away from him, people who you smile at that aren't him, people you love that aren't him. He's not one to delude himself into thinking everyone secretly loves you romantically, rather, it doesn't matter. Romantic interests are the worst threat, sure, but friends and family aren't much better.

He sees himself as above killing, though. He has people to do that for him, and he likes knowing that he has that much power. He's not going to dirty his hands with it, and frankly, they're not even worthy of his time and effort to kill them. Knights and other connections can take care of it just as well.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

As somewhat previously discussed, the primary form of making him mad is attempting an escape. That's on a whole new level of anger because it strikes at a very deep, wounding insecurity. On a normal day, though, he's more easily exasperated than angry. He gets frustrated somewhat easily, especially if you're trying exceptionally hard to be a brat. He has very clear warning signs. His signature little smirk drops, he gets quiet, he balls his hands into fists and digs his fingernails into his palms. At that stage, he's irritable and might snap at you, but won't get too angry until you ignore those signs and push it.

If you do push him, though, he gets genuinely mad, which is a very quiet anger at first -- he doesn't talk much when he's mad. He acts. You'll know he's snapped when he puts down whatever he's doing, and just silently stomps over to you, face completely empty and flat, looking down at you with a cold expression. It's enough to put fear in you, but at that point, even if you apologize, you're not getting out of whatever he's planned.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Strongly in the "below" camp, a rather unusual stance for a yandere. Like many things with him, there's an inexplicable duality going on there.  You would think that if you loved someone so strongly you'd kidnap them, kill for them, and potentially suffer consequences just to have them, that you would really think highly of them. On the flip side, you would think that if you really saw someone as lowly, you wouldn't care for them, you'd see them as disposable.

But neither is true for Kaeya, no, he balances both obsessive love and complete narcissism regarding you. You're not disposable, no, he can't live without you, he needs you. But at the same time, you're not gonna be on any kind of pedestal. No, if anything, he sees himself on one, more like a throne, and you on the floor before him, how things should be.

He has a similar mindset to Zhongli or Albedo - you're fragile, you're dumb, you're incapable, and you need someone to care for you, protect you, guide you, someone who knows what's best for you, since you clearly don't. However, he's lacking in the attitude those other two have -- there's no seeing you as an angel here. There's no viewing himself as being absolutely honored to take care of you, or viewing protecting and caring for you as some kind of privilege that they're blessed to do, the way those two do.

No, as much as he loves those things, he'll never admit it, not even to himself really. Rather, his mentality is that you should be grateful. Here he is, a very highly respected, accomplished, capable person, and you...? You have what to offer, exactly? That's right, nothing, really, only cuteness and obedience, the latter of which you refuse to give him even though you really ought to. He's taking on the burden of making sure you don't get yourself killed, and how do you repay him? By getting mad about it, throwing a fit like some little kid? He puts up with your tantrums, which are really undeserved, by the way. He puts up with your disobedience and repeated rule violations, your sheer determination to defy him when he's going out of his way to do what's best for you.

One day, he thinks, you'll mature a little bit and understand why he does what he does, and when you do, you'll come groveling and sniffling about how sorry you are, how you'll never defy him again, how you'll be good and obedient from now on, and he'll love every second of it. He looks forward to that day quite a bit.

"Sigh... you know, you're pretty lucky I love you so much. You could stand to show me a little thanks, don't you think?"

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's strongly determined, and yet... doesn't do much to try. It goes back to his mindset that really, you're the one who should be grateful for him, and eventually, you will love him. He's not gonna grovel to you or try different ways of making you love him, no, he's far too proud for that. But he's a smart man. He knows the effects that complete and total isolation other than one other person can have on someone. He's just going to sit back and wait for that effect to kick in, and slowly watch your fragile little mind deteriorate until you're desperate for affection. At which point, well, he can use it against you.

"You were so mean to me before, weren't you? You fought me every step of the way, and now you're just going to turn around and act like that didn't happen...? Well, if you're really sorry, I'll forgive you. But how am I supposed to believe you really are...? Maybe you can think of a way to prove it, hm?"

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Probably the severity of his degradation. As aforementioned, most yanderes, even the more confident or cocky individuals, either worship the ground their beloved walks on and sees themselves as beneath them, OR sees their darling as some sort of fragile, angelic being, and they are simply a protector or caretaker to that being.

It's a bit different with him, ever the narcissist. It's a strange duality born out of a rare mix of neediness, obsession, and pride. You're more like a toy, or a pet - an invaluable pet that he could never part with, but a pet nonetheless. He certainly looks down on you more than the average yandere - he mentally associates you as naive, fragile, even dumb like a lot of the aforementioned protector/caretaker types, but without the reverence to make up for it.

It's a bizarre duality that not even he fully understands - don't think for a moment that that means he'll ever tire of you, or view you as disposable. No, he's actually one of the most obsessive ones, yet very demanding of attention and praise, rather than giving it.

He frequently tests you - things like leaving the door unlocked, waiting outside just to see if you'll try it. Seeing you open that door, watching your face go from ecstatic excitement and drop to wide-eyed terror, it's priceless.

"My, my, you didn't waste any time at all, did you? Why do you look so surprised...? You should know I wouldn't slip up that badly."

Pet names, but in the most infuriatingly condescending way, and uses them more often when he's mad and trying to warn you that you're pushing his limits. Particularly fond of "sweetheart," especially with a low warning tone and clenched teeth.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Horny fucker, all the way. The man has a lot of stress and frustration in his life already, that much more if you're... less than compliant with your new lifestyle. Sex, especially rough and hard, is a fantastic stress reliever.

Very little reservation. He's not crude about it, but he tends to make subtle innuendos very frequently, and laughs at your embarrassed reactions. Definitely the type to pull the whole shtick in which he says something with a blatant sexual undertone, then elaborates in a way to make it sound like having meant something else, follows with that smirk and says, "Why? What did you think I meant?" It's something he really enjoys doing, and loves to get embarrassed reactions out of people, particularly yourself.

"Touchy" doesn't begin to describe it. Pretty much from the moment you meet him, he's got his hands somewhere on your person. He grabs your shoulders when he stands behind you, he wraps an arm around you from the side when he walks up to you, he's always pressing his hands on your back and sides whenever you're navigating the streets, walking through doorways, wraps an arm around your waist when sitting next to you. It's highly uncomfortable, but really, he's just got something very subtly, but very strongly intimidating about him. You almost don't want to confront him on it. If you do, he'll laugh it off, and stop -- for maybe 48 hours or so, and then he'll be right back at it.

To the surprise of, well, everyone who's ever met him, he doesn't actually live up to the rumors of having been around the block, so to speak. His experience is actually little to none - that kinda happens when you push everyone around you away. Not that he'd ever let you know that, of course, and will probably lie if asked, but you can gleam a little bit of truth from slightly awkward movements and a bit of noticeable shakiness.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Kind of like Razor, the issue is that he loves you, and what better way is there of expressing love? He's not much for gift-giving or words of affirmation - no, he's a lot better with words of degradation, it comes more naturally to him. And he's certainly not one to enjoy acts of service -- well, not doing them, he'll gladly take them as a sign of your love, though. No, he expresses love through touch. It's like how, when you hug someone you really love, someone you missed, you squeeze them extra tight - the love manifests as a physical urge for some strong expression. Humans are physical about their emotions -- we punch walls when we're mad, we jump up and down when we're happy, and when you love someone, sometimes you just really, really want to pound them into a mattress as hard as physically possible. That's normal. That, and really, he's got his vices. He's actually fairly weak when it comes to resisting temptations, and prone to give in to urges for physical sensations like drunkenness and sex.

Is another one to be convinced that, with time, you'll come around. And is absolutely the top candidate to be one for using your own body against you - if you get wet, if you whimper, if you cum, that's just proof that you really do want this, that you're just being difficult because you enjoy being a brat, and he'll be sure to tell you that.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

This is nearly indistinguishable from punishment, sadistic bastard

D/S dynamics

Arrogant fucker wants to be served and worshipped, you could see it coming from a mile away. Anything that puts you beneath him is going to make him happy - anything where you're where you're supposed to be. There's a lot of options, but it doesn't really matter, as long as he feels like he's in control and ownership of you in some way, and as long as you act accordingly.

He wants it to be something that’s not just for sex, but rather, he’ll end up carrying it over into normal life, whether you like it or not. If you just went along with it in hopes of getting it over with once he cums, you’re going to be in for a treat when it starts to carry over. He gets a little too used to being worshipped, and decides he likes that submissive attitude on you enough to want to see it all the time.

Petplay/Collaring

It really helps that he sees you as something of a pet already, but really, the collar is the selling point. Even if you never go outside, there's something unbearably hot about the possessiveness of it all - really, it's there to remind you of your status as property. He wants to own you, and for you to be forced to acknowledge that he owns you, and there's really no better way to do that than something with his name on it. It's even better with a leash, one he can pull on when he's fucking you to pull you back onto him over, and over, and over, hearing it choke you the more he shortens it.

But really, having you crawl towards him on all fours and obey little commands so simple they're humiliating is pretty nice, too.

Impact pain/painplay

There's really nothing quite so powerful feeling as watching you cry and squirm from it, y'know? He's another one that just likes the marks his hands, belts, or anything else can leave all over the skin of your ass and the back of your legs. The thing with him, though, is it's not even always a punishment, he just does it for fun, and that makes it unpredictable. Will definitely make you count, it's a sadistic torture for your mind and body.

Throatfucking

May be used as a punishment measure, may just be because he's craving it, either way, even if you have a gag reflex, you won't for very long. He'll train it out of you gradually, grabbing the back of your head and just slamming all the way down into your throat, holding you there, making you choke - it's a beautiful sound, really, listening to you gag, all while your throat spasms around him, it's the best feeling, really, and will definitely be used as a threat if you need incentives to behave.

Choking

Ties into the dynamics, but really, there’s not much to say on this one. He likes the power trip from having his hands wrapped around your throat, seeing you struggle, watching your face go red, hearing those little choking noises. It puts power over you into his hands, and if you get pleasure from it against your own will, that’s even better.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Absolutely one of the ones to use it as a tool. If you have a baby, you'll be so much more bound to him. You'll need him more, you'll want him around more, you'll be much less likely to leave, and in a way it feels a little bit like a sign of ownership over you.

That being said, he's also acutely aware of his jealous tendencies, and realizes he would also be very likely to become jealous if he felt like you loved a baby more than him, or gave it more attention and affection than you do him. He doesn't like the thought.

So ultimately, the latter side prevents him from willingly trying, but if you really, really have defiance issues even after he's tried everything he can to break you help you adjust, he might consider it.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

If it's mild enough, he can just take the route of extremely rough fucking - it gets rid of the frustration, he likes hearing you whimper and squeal, and he can leave lots of little bruises as reminders of what not to do in the future.

But, again, he already gets off to putting you in pain - it'll be that much worse when you've done something to deserve it. Harder hits, no mercy whatsoever, and he just loves all your little cries, wiping away your tears and smiling at you, right before bringing down whatever instrument of pain he's chosen again. If you really, really make him mad, and he really wants to make you cry, he's not above fucking your ass, either, watching you cry and beg, but you'll learn with time that begging doesn't ever get you out of anything.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Definitely an ass man. Likes fucking you in doggy, seeing the ripple every time you bounce back off of him, pulling your hair or arms to add some force. He likes seeing all the little red marks that his hands and belts and anything else will leave on the skin, views it like marks of possession. Grabbing, beating, fucking, it's all good.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“illusion”

Chapter 14

aaaaaa what?! ANOTHER Illusion chapter within 3 months? It's more likely than you think! WARNING: violence!!! MC gets the shit beat out of her!!! Haha! Trauma!

AO3 link 

WARNING: While this chapter is not spicy, this IS a work with spicy scenes. An sfw version has been in the works and will be posted soon.

This can't be real... it can't be...

My heart runs circles around my chest, violently beating as if it's trying to escape. And I don't blame it; Wren, Giles, and I are suddenly face to face with one of the notorious Shining Generals of the Diamond Kingdom. His unexpected presence throws a wrench into our plan, and now I'm not sure that we'll be able to escape this place with the civilians- at least not alive. Already, Giles is on his knees, struggling to stay conscious in the aftermath of the "Slime mold" attack. And now, we're next.

"This is your last warning-" A gross, green material starts to emanate from the general's grimoire. "Leave now, and I won't follow."

I exchange one last frightened glance with Wren. His confidence is completely gone, but the spark in his eye tells me that he isn't done yet. 

We can't win... can we?

Wren's eyes narrow.

Am I going to give up? Just like that?

No...

Slowly, I give him a nod before looking back at the general.

He hasn't seen my magic yet. I can still surprise him. 

"...we'll fight. Like magic knights are meant to!"

With that yell, Wren suddenly jumps ahead of me towards the attacker. "Feather Magic: Starling Swarm!" A huge flock of inky black feathers come out of nowhere, swirling around in the air around Wren before coursing towards his enemy like a vicious river. 

"Fools... Slime Magic: Amebic Plague." The mold queuing up in his hands bursts forth in three long tentacles, striking the swarm of feathers. Violent fluttering and squelching fills the air as the two magics struggle for dominance, until the mold overcomes and dissolves away Wren's entire fleet. "See, this is useless!" the man cackles softly, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Now... you're next!"

The mold changes directions, this time streaming towards Wren.

However, it's too late.

In the moments that Wren was distracting him, I looked at the general's face. At his body. At his eyes.

His hands... they're soft. He hasn't done much physical training for this position; he doesn't need to. But even outside of work, he hasn't done much that was taxing. He doesn't play... not outside, at least.

His body... he's heavy. But it's not new weight. He carries it well, but his face is thin. He wasn't always this weight, but he's comfortable in it now. He gained it years ago- maybe 3 or 4 years ago. Why?

His eyes...

The flash I once thought was cruel is now something else... it's playful. And for a brief moment, when his gaze met mine, I saw something I didn't expect.

Sadness. Regret.

Please forgive me. You look like her.

Before the mold can reach Wren, I raise my grimoire, a spell forming in the palm of my hand.

You have a daughter... 3 or 4 years old. She prefers to play inside. She's sheltered. You gained weight when your wife did. Empathy weight, I think it's called...

And she looks a little like me. You love her more than anything in this world.

Illusion Magic: Memory Mirage.

Wren grits his teeth and braces for impact. I fire off my spell, a single word beaming itself right into the General's mind.

"DADDY!"

A girl's voice, high pitched and scared, screams through his mind. In that instant, I see all color drain from his face, turning him into a statue for just a couple crucial moments.

Bingo.

"FEATHER MAGIC: HARPY'S FURY!"

The general snaps out of it, but a moment too late. He and his men are bombarded with a thousand knife-sharp feathers, slicing through their flesh and clothes. With a scream, he stumbles and falls backwards. Taking a deep breath, I whirl around to see Giles already on his feet, sprinting towards the back wall.

"Horn Magic: Ibex Impact."

Two spiraling horns burst out of his head and drill right through the wall. The bricks crumble, letting sunlight stream in, and a large enough hole for people to run through is created. "Go! Everyone, run towards the outer wall!" I yell, grabbing Wren's hand to help him run as well. With a blur of movement, the civilians jump to their feet, desperate to escape, and thunder off in a big crowd. Wren sends back a few more feathers to keep the fallen enemies down just a little longer, before turning and following me out.

Giles stays at the front of the group to lead them while Wren and I bring up the rear. My heart is still pounding from that encounter, but I'm starting to relax. "That was close... we have to get out of here, then go tell the others that there's another General here!"

"Agreed!" Wren is already out of breath. "I can't believed Julius missed this guy..."

I nod, my mind suddenly filling with thoughts of Julius. Were he and the captain alright? Did they win their fight? I can still hear noises around the city, but I don't know where the sources are. I gulp nervously, parting my lips to keep breathing as I run. It doesn't matter... I'll see him again soon. For now, we have to get out of here, then I can brag to Julius about also beating a general-

"AHHH!" 

Wren suddenly stumbles forward before falling flat on his face. I freeze in place as I spot the same growing spot of green mold that Giles had earlier. "Wren!" I quickly kneel down and start helping him to his feet. "You're hurt... keep going-"

"Eh- no!" Wren grits his teeth through the pain, looking behind us as the rest of the crowd continues to run away. Sure enough, none other than the bloodied, battered General is behind us, staggering forward with pure anger in his eyes. My stomach turns, and all at once I realize just how much danger we're in. "I'll stay... I'll fight him-"

"Wren, you're in no state to fight!" I tell him frantically. We're running out of time, and fast, with each step the general takes towards us. "Go, help the others escape, I can hold him off."

"NO..." Wren shakes his head again, one hand coming up to grab my wrist, trying to pry my hands off him. "I- I need to..." His gaze raises to mine, strained with agony yet so... at peace.

"I need... to pay for my sin."

For a brief moment, the street disappears. The crowd disappears. The general disappears. We're alone, just Wren and I, as I stare into his eyes, confused and scared.

... sins?

Wren... what sins have you committed?

I wrench my hand from his fingers.

Whatever they are... they aren't enough to condemn you.

"I don't care what sins you've committed; I'm your comrade, I'm not letting you die!"

I raise my voice, and Wren's eyes widen. I flash him a grin, a confident look that he hasn't seen on my face in months.

"Go... I'll fight this guy, and win, I promise!"

Finally, Wren nods. With difficulty, he steps away, his eyes remaining on mine until he has to turn and limp (very quickly) off down the street. With a sigh, I look back at my enemy. 

I... I can't win.

I clench my fists, ice in my veins.

This fight could be my last... all I can do is stay alive until help arrives.

The general is alone, but badly injured from Wren's attack. However, I can see patches of his mold covering various spots on his body, undoubtedly stopping the bleeding from getting too bad. That's why he's alone... he's the only one in enough shape to walk out here. I grit my teeth, pulling out my grimoire once again. In that case, maybe beating him won't be so hard.

I see his mold tentacles rise up above him once again, and my time comes. I flip my hand, the spell in my book starting to glow.

Illusion Magic: Kaleidoscope.

The only thing I can make several illusions of at a time is myself, because my body is the one thing I know better than anything. The general stops in his tracks as his eyesight blurs, and once it clears, there are ten copies of myself standing ahead of him, all identical in every way. "I see..." he breathes, his mouth twitching into a grin despite the rage still burning in his gaze. "You make illusions, don't you? But..." His eyes narrow, and his grin disappears. "How... how did you know about her?"

I gulp, taking a step back. My eyes flicker up to the tentacles above him before going back to his face. "L-Lucky guess?"

He doesn't speak again, just raises his hand to point at my copies. The tentacles strike, like three perfectly coordinated snakes, and immediately rip through three of my copies, one of which is right next to my real body. Shit! My eyes widen. I almost flinch without thinking, but an unconscious impulse keeps me from doing it for just a moment. If I just flinch instinctively, the other copies will do the same, and he'll be able to see which one is me from the direction- So- Randomly-

The seven remaining copies, including myself, flinch in random directions, one right, two left, then another two right, and then two left. Without another moment to spare, I take off running, zig zagging down a side street, being careful not to accidentally clip into one of my illusions. It's a difficult task, since I can't actually see any of them, but I know where they are. With a grunt, we turn around to face our pursuer, and I raise my hands again. Seven voices ring out at once, all casting the same spell.

"Illusion Magic: Sudden Death!"

Seven balls of energy jump from our hands, converging in the middle before shooting into the general's chest. His mouth opens in surprise, his mind forcing himself to perceive the impact. That's it! I think as he stumbles back, his eyes widening. Now... look down... look down...

His gaze drifts down, to the ground, then up his legs, and then, to the gaping wound in his stomach. It's a standard one, a slice that leaves your entrails exposed, burnt to a crisp, but still oozing blood and juice. I watch as the blood drains from his face, his chest heaving as he draws in breath after ragged breath. His hand clutches at the imaginary mound, clutching at nothing, but I know that he's watching his life wane away. Finally, he looks back at where I stand, now just a single person. Any pity or sadness that he once looked at me with is gone. All there is is anger.

"Y-You..."

Finally, his knees give out from the shock, and he crumbles into a heap on the ground.

I exhale at last, my heart still pounding. I stand there for a whole minute, watching him twitch pathetically where he collapsed. That's it... I did it. Of course, I know I would be dead meat if Wren didn't weaken him first, but what's done is done. Wren... Giles... I wonder if they got out alright. Remembering the mission, I finally move, walking towards the still man who is now the least of my worries. I'm sure they made it... and then the captain, Alice, Cecelia... and Julius-

My mind is far away as I walk past the body. I don't notice the stray strand of mold until it wraps itself around my ankle, as tight and severe as fishing line.

SHIT-

I'm flung into the air, mold immediately shooting over my skin and up my body. I don't even have time to scream; the world revolves around me, upside down, and then I hit the brick wall as hard as humanly possible. With a spluttering gasp, gravity takes hold again and I thud to the ground. My entire body is being stabbed and eaten away by mold, tingling and stinging like a thousand jellyfish. Something lands on my shoulder and kicks me onto my back, and I finally open my eyes to see the shining general smirking down at me. "H-H-"

"How?" He lets out a snort. "Please... once I know the trick, none of your magic works on me. A lesser man would have fallen for it, but not me..." He laughs again, mirthlessly, and presses his foot down harder. More mold appears under his shoe, and I can't even scream.

AH.... AHHH... Tears prick at the corners of my eyes and my vision goes white. Stop it... please... someone...

"Your magic relies on dirty lies... you look at people and use the things they love and the things they fear against them."

His foot keeps pressing down, crushing me like a bug.

"You... you didn't wound my body. But my pride has been irreparably damaged." His eyes darken. "You will pay dearly."

Everything blurs for a moment, and hands grab me. No, not hands- the mold tentacles, burning into my skin, grab me and slam me against the wall again. I hear other voices, angry voices. Angry eyes stare up at me, the same rage burning within them as the general's.

"Is this the one who took you down?"

"She did not take me down... but she hurt my pride." 

I crack open an eye to see that the general is no longer alone- his five men are here now, too, varying degrees of annoyance and anger on their faces. But the general is finally smiling again, that playful, dangerous smile that I saw before.

My hands shake. My fingers uselessly pry at the mold around my neck. I can't breathe.

"Go ahead... make her life a living hell."

There are grins on all their faces again.

I- I can't move-

Hands reach towards me.

M-Move... please...

I open my mouth to scream, but choke on my own blood.

Someone grabs my neck. They hit me over and over again.

Stop... stop...

Julius reaches towards my neck with his healing hands. 

Stop... Get...

My grimoire begins to glow where it fell to the ground.

Get away-

I cough once, and something warm dribbles down my chin. I can breathe- I can breathe-

I open my eyes again. All of the men have the same face.

Lawrence.

DON'T TOUCH ME

...

...

...

Illusion Magic: Fear Landscape.

The mold retracts, and I slide to the ground and immediately slump over forwards. My body is broken, and there's blood all over me. The mold ate away at everything it could, and even now it lingers inside me. I take a few shallow breaths. My ears are ringing, both with the impact of the blows and... screaming? yes... someone's screaming and crying- no- multiple people are. I blink a few times, vaguely aware of bodies writhing around in the street. But I don't feel scared... no.

Everything is so warm. The pain slowly fades into a memory. 

A hand strokes over my hair tenderly.

"It'll be okay... I'll protect you. I promise."

Promise?

 ...

...

...

 Slowly, the pain comes back, dull and intense. I grunt as I slowly lift my head, finally sitting up all the way. One of my arms is wrapped around my middle to stop the bleeding there. "Ugh... what happened?" Was I saved? Did I cast a spell? Or did they just leave me here-

I open my eyes and finally see the scene ahead of me.

The men are still there. But they've all fallen, their bodies contorted and twisted. My breath hitches in my throat as I see their expressions.

Each one of them is filled with fear. Not any particular kind of fear- just fear, in it's purest form.

W-What... what did I do?

My hands shake as I crawl forward, one of my legs dragging behind me. One of the bodies is face up, and I recognize him as the General.

They... they're just passed out. I just shocked them into collapsing, right?

I reach out. The city is so quiet.

Please... don't...

My hand slides under his jaw, pressing down for a moment. Then another. Then another.

The city is silent.

I slowly retract my hand, to rest on his chest. No pulse of life can be found.

No... no...

My hand forms a fist, balling up his shirt.

No... I... I didn't... I couldn't...

I've seen death. I've seen blood. I've seen war. But... never at my own hand.

Something within me snaps, and I fall forward into his chest. I let go of my wound and grab his arm, as a sob racks my entire body.

"No... no... I..."

Tears stain his shirt. 

"I'm sorry.... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

There are footsteps. Voices.

Sorry... sorry... sorry...

"I-I didn't mean to... I'm sorry- I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

My voice raises in volume as the footsteps come closer. I don't hear them, just the sound of my voice and the silence of the heartbeat.

"Please... forgive me... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to! I- I-"

It wasn't your fault.

There's a heartbeat now. I'm numb, but warmth surrounds me. 

"I-I'm sorry..."

I know, I know.

That warm hand is on my head again, stroking my hair and coaxing me into a deep sleep.

Rest... you were so brave.

"...thank you. I'm...

I'm sorry..."

ooooh ouch! Well, next time, we'll see MC "recover" from her fight, but we find out that life is just as cruel to other people as well.

[honeytrappaz]

call out post for @ratsofftoya

TW: GROOMING/PEDOPHILIA AND SUICIDE MENTIONS

recently @i-am-a-fish got suicidal baited off tumblr for the most bullshitted accusation post I've seen so far.

apparently I-am-fish is a pedophile/ potential child groomer, as said by @ratsofftoya

All because he made a joke on twitter about moving to pornhub, and follows artists that draw lolicon/aged-up smut of fictional underaged characters.

but there are some major fallacies in @ratsofftoya 's accusations (as if it wasn't obvious enough).

moral appeal:

ratsofftoya's commentary on goldie's pornhub and sex toy posts were very moralistic despite the posts clearly being a joke.

Humor is subjective so it's okay if you didn't laugh at this post, but that isn't an excuse to take away its humor to demean someone by making hasty generalizations about his fanbase. We can't confirm his fanbase is mostly kids, but because this claim is based on a hasty generalization, it is an inappropriate appeal to emotion. Trying to imply that goldie willingly exposes kids to child porn, classic "but think of the kids!" argument.

• There is no data we have on I-am-fish 's audience age demographic.

• there is no proof that majority of the fanbase are minors. that's just a hasty generalization.

• I-am-a-fish does not claim to be a blog for kids, not including "18+" in your bio does not make you a blog for kids.

I can't believe i have to point this shit out, but tumblr and twitter are not for kids. Nobody on these two platforms should have to put "18+" in their bios because nobody below that should even be on these two platforms. I-am-a-fish is an adult making adult jokes on an adult platform, to imply he could be a child groomer because he makes sex jokes that minors see is unfair because thats beyond his control. Tumblr and Twitter are adult spaces and yet we are not responsible for kids being in a space where they don't belong, that responsibility goes to the parents. All we can do about minors in online adult spaces is REPORT them.

2. cherry picking:

ratsofftoya specifically picked TWO sexually suggestive artworks by japanese Twitter artist Krskii. problem is ratsofftoya uses these two posts to portay this artist as a highly lewd/fetish account, when that isn't the case. In actuality, krskii's twitter page is a fanart page for a duo from IDOL MASTER: cinderella girls starlight stage anzu fubata(the blonde loli) and kirari moroboshi. it's a fanart page for other IMCGSS characters as well. i use to play game, its alot of fun but its japanese exclusive so i couldn't play much due to language barriers. the fanart page is almost all SFW, but ratsofftoya pick TWO out of dozens of sfw pics to solidify her claim.

you can go on Krskii's twitter and see for yourself:

and my personal favorite:

(ooh lawd this is cute i might have it as a PFP with credit!)

anyway, ratsofftoya ignored these possibilities:

• There is no proof goldie liked the two photos, or any engagement at all.

• there is no proof that he had seen it, especially out of dozens sfw art.

• just because he follows this artist does not automatically confim he has a sexual attraction for lolis or kids. especially due to how the page is mostly sfw.

• goldie could just be a fan of IMCGSS.

this isn't a creepy pedo twitter page, just an idol fan page. but what really is illogical is the commentary ratsofftoya has in regards to loli drawings. Now with using two pics racy pics, ratsofftoya came to the conclusion that Goldie is sexually attracted to children. But lolicon isn't real children, it's not real CP and it's not even a realistic depiction of humans children, so what rataofftoya did was simply pass off her opinion of lolis as fact. I'm not trying to debate on whether lolicon is okay or not and im not gonna share my opinion, because the real point isn't the subject of lolicon but the wrongful accusation. the real fact is that lolicon is still legal, but social opinion of lolicon is very mixed, our opinions on such a complicated subject is not enough to convict someone as a pedophile. you're opinions do not hold that kind of power, especially without sufficient evidence. let's actually move on to ratsofftoya's evidenced and how insufficient it is.

3. False attribution of discord chats

the screenshots provided from the discord chats do not add up to ratsofftoya's claims, making the screencaps irrelevant more than anything.

she provided this screenshot of a mod stating their opinion on aged up fanart, and claims that this opinions makes ALL MODS in that discord MAPS and Pedo apologists. problem is that there is no real sympathy for any pedo/maps in both ratsofftoya and nestbian's screenshots. if anything, it's just some bad jokes, and Goldie doesn't even say one himself.

rattsofftoya commits the same fallacy like with the loli argument; the concept of aged up characters is complicated subject, its not illegal but there is alot of debate surrounding it. Ratsofftoya makes her opinion clear that aged up artwork of characters is wrong. she uses small and insufficient screenshots to to help make her OPINION seem like a fact, and accuse the mods of being MAP sympathizers. she's convicted these mods based on a biased opinion, the concept of aged up characters is not legally pedophilic so whether you think the subject is right or wrong, is still not enough to convinct others with opposing opinions as MAP enablers.

Another issue is how she claims minors are talking inappropriately with adults on discord, but there are no such screenshots, the screenshots provided give no evidence of such accusation. With her convictions based on biased opinions, that accusations is not going to be getting any credibility anytime soon. Many of us know how discord works, it's not unusual for adults and minors to be in the same server, it's not a pedophilic thing. But one thing that discord mods do is have NSFW chats specifically for adults, while minors are exluded and stay in the SFW chats. ratsofftoya has no screenshots on minors in a nsfw chat, you'd figure that nestbian would take screenshots of that if it was actually true.

Lastly, ratsofftoya uses these discord screenshots to further solidfy her statement that I-am-a-fish is exposing sexual content to children. But you don't see goldie or any inappropriate/sexual content in the screenshots, just problematic opinions at best.

4. Bad intentions:

from what i've said in this post above, I can conclude ratsofftoya's post overrall was very manipulative and biased. I think the most manipulative part of the post was the last paragraph:

Using the idea of child exploitation and sexual abuse to pull on people's emotions, a huge inappropriate call for emotion. yet, ratsofftoya has not proven or shown any child exploitation or pedophilia at all. we have yet to see any evidence of abuse! How can I believe ratsofftoya has good intentions when I can easily break the accusations apart and see lies?

As a real victim of child grooming, i won't speak for all victims, but as a victim I really don't like my trauma being used to witch hunt innocent people. My trauma is not for woke points, it's not a badge and it's not for your ego to exploit. It's pretty clear that ratsofftoya did NOT make this post for the well being of children and grooming victims, but the post was made for her moralistic ego. If anything, to use sexual child abuse to lie about others, is exploitive.

5. consequenses:

I commented on ratsofftoya's post, mentioning that there are serious consequences to false accusations. Of course the response was immature af so not sure if she'll ever learn, but I'll say it for those who'll hopefully listen to my advice.

Call out post with false accusations can destroy lives, and put you, the poster, in serious legal trouble.

Slander and defamation on its own can get you a lawsuit, you never know who on this platform has money for a lawyer. If this person you publicly slander is to self harm, commit suicide, or lose their job, you can be legally held accountable for it even if it wasn't what you intended to happen, disclaimers cat save you from that. Just because ratofftoya says the suicide baiting is wrong, doesn't mean that she isn't legally responsible for it, I-am-a-fish can legally use it against her. Even with the legal consequences, lying in its own has social consequences and it will be brought to light.

Remember this, you broke ass college students, no amount of woke points is worth the lawsuit. If you GENUINELY see a real predator, report it!