#a question which means nothing and has no relevance to anyone

[caesarsaladinn]

trying to figure out the funniest crackpot stance on who is the current Roman emperor, and accepting suggestions (tenuous historical justification required)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

This is probably small in the grand scheme of things, but how did Emilie being noble play any impact in the story at all?

I mean, I'd get it if it was just a small detail to help deepen Emilie's character, but why nobility of all things? I don't know, from what I'm seeing so far, the whole "Emilie renounced her noble title" shtick just feels worthless if it's not going to impact the story or add depth to Emilie's character (like maybe upbringing or personal values?).

I don't know. Like everything else, the noble part just feels shallow and means nothing to the story, especially for a character like Emilie, who is the plot device for the whole show. Any detail about her, like her personality and life story, is supposed to influence the story and characters one way or another, namely Hawkmoth since she's his driving force.

So what was the point?

For context, this ask is about Félix's play which says that Emilie gave up her title to be with Gabriel. I'm gonna give a slightly larger section of the transcript of the play for full context, but the relevant but is at the end of the last paragraph:

Félix: The king and queen's twins grew up, each day as different in heart as they were similar in body. The firstborn, curious and brazen, despised life at court and escaped at every opportunity. The younger daughter, well-behaved and respectful, did everything she could to please her parents, and stayed quietly in the castle. Félix: (as Mr. Graham de Vanily) Oh, my queen. Did we entrust our legacy to the right princess? Kagami: (as Mrs. Graham de Vanily) She will fall in line, eventually. Félix: Confident that she would settle down as she matured, the king and queen allowed the curious princess to leave to study beyond the sea in another kingdom. There, she immediately found true love in a humble tailor. Félix: The tailor was making clothes so magnificent that they revealed the beauty of the soul of anyone who wore them. Although it made her parents furious, the curious princess gave up her rank, her wealth and her kingdom to live a bohemian life with the tailor.

Story wise, I have no idea why any of this was added since it adds nothing to canon. It's not like this finally explains why Gabriel and Emilie are poor while Amelie is wealthy. Along similar lines, it's not like Amelie's title has ever mattered. Prior to this play, I don't think that we even knew that she had a title or that she was the younger sister. The play is all about explaining things that we never had reasons to question in the first place.

My best guess as to why the writers wrote this pointless backstory is that they wanted to make Emilie seem even more pure and perfect so they went with the tired old trope of a rich girl giving up material things for the sake of love and art because good pure women don't care about material things! Only nasty, shallow women care about money. (Way to play into sexist tropes, guys.)

There may also be cultural elements at play here given that France doesn't have the greatest history with nobility, so giving up a noble title may be seen as good and pure to a French writer, but I don't know enough about French culture to say that with any certainty. If anyone who reads this blog is French and would like to chime in, then feel free!

While we're on the topic of the play, I wanted to point out that the above quoted passage is why I say that the Graham de Vanily parents can be as kind or as abusive as you'd like to make them. It's incredibly vague and you can read into it whatever you want to read into it. Were they good loving parents who were just upset about their daughter living in poverty or were they miserable controlling classist who Emilie fled England to get away from? It's up to you because you can get both reads from this. The play commits to almost nothing of value. Politicians could take lessons from this impressive level of noncommittal writing.

A better version of the play would have focused on things that actually matter to canon like the details of finding the miraculous and/or Emilie learning she's sick, but you could only have those details if they were coming from Nathalie or Gabriel. Félix is a terrible choice for a character to tell us the show's backstory because he knows so little of it, thus the play focusing on his largely pointless backstory.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

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

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

[kiophen]

genuine question, do you think callout posts are inherently evil? like if someone's doing some weird shit and hiding it i think people would want to be warned about that at least. just try to discourage harassment as much as possible

The existence of a callout posts means that the targeted person will be harassed if enough people see it. There is no amount of "don't harass anyone mentioned in this doc/video" disclaimers that will prevent that. The post is now potentially a permanent record that anyone can cite for years into the future. You are now at the whims of unknown strangers to be banned from communities, kicked out of creative projects, or be blocked by friends, at any time with no warning. I would consider this to be harassment, but to people who don't know about how these things usually go down they would be seen as righteous whistle blowers.

No matter what you actually did, if your awkward interaction with someone was too sexual, or if you stated a shitty opinion about a complex topic, or if you misjudged someone's boundaries, or if you engaged with kink in a way that made someone outside the scene uncomfortable, you are now a predator. I have seen firsthand the game of telephone starting from "this person did/said something sexualized on an online platform where teenagers could have been present," to "acted creepy around teenagers," to "regularly sexually assaulted children," to "pedophile".

Callout posts do not actually stop the person from "doing weird shit". It depends on what you mean by "weird shit", but if you mean "secretly draws/engages with Bad Porn", which is what a lot of callout posts are about, I implore you to recognize that it is truly not your business to know every private action someone takes just because you follow them on social media. This applies to awkward interactions people have in private too. Sometimes it's patterns of abuse, but a lot of the time it's interpersonal drama that is not anyone else's business.

If by "weird shit" you mean that someone has demonstrated ongoing patterns of real emotional/financial/sexual/etc abuse, and it's something that cannot be handled by any other means (either privately or with legal action if relevant), then in those cases a callout post can potentially do more good than harm if it reaches the people that need to know about it.

The level of long-term mental anguish that a target can go through is absolutely no fucking joke. A callout post has the potential to be a gun to someone's head, especially if they're socially/mentally/physically disadvantaged to begin with, which conveniently describes the most likely people to be targeted with high profile callout posts. [This is because: 1.) Our communities are wayy more likely to self-police than the rest of the internet and 2.) there are groups such as kiwifarms that love when a trans girl does something they can suicide bait her with and they also love it when we infight, isolate, and attack each other.]

I don't think callout posts are inherently evil, but they do nothing to make the target not continue their unwanted behavior. The only good function a callout post can serve is to warn potential future victims. If there are no victims, no behavior that will DIRECTLY lead to someone being victimized, no scam being uncovered, no patterns of abuse being shared, then the only victim is the target of the callout post. Everyone else involved is just gawking at gossip and/or contributing to suicidal levels of anxiety to a stranger.

[notevenalittle1294]

Also I think a huge part of what makes Worms superpowers feel better is that the people with superpowers actually act like people. They experiment! They test out what they can and can’t do, and think of ways to use their powers effectively. In a lot of superhero media the characters act like they just got their powers 5 minutes ago and barely think about how to use them as opposed to using their power like something thats been an extension of their body for years , because the writers only spent 5 minutes thinking about how they would use them. Like in this scene from the boys. I have a specific grudge here, because I think it exemplifies a lot of the issues with superhero media. Starlight has the power to create powerful burning beams of light, but still opts for kicking and punching which does essentially nothing compared to using her power. Anyone with this ability for a day or more would at least realise that they could blind someone fairly easily, but she doesn’t. Stormfront has the ability to hit people with bolts of lightning, that act nothing like lightning actually does. Fights often dissolve into meaningless cgi slogs due to things like this. It could be far more interesting if her bolts would burn and electrocute people like they should, but instead her lightning affects people the same as hitting people with lasers which affects people the same as throwing them telekinetically which realistically ends up affecting people the same as if punching them in the face. Their powers become boring,useless and homogenised making their fights meaningless.

In contrast, Worm takes time to make to make each power unique and to make each person use it in a way that makes it feel like they’ve actually learned how to use it. No character just has something like the ability to teleport, because that necessitates a whole bunch of questions that completely change how this character behaves in a fight. If their teleportation cancels momentum, they can use it to survive falling from great heights, or to stop themselves getting knocked back by a punch and catch their opponent off guard. If it doesn’t cancel momentum, that opens potential for some devastating dropkicks: teleport up 50 feet, fall a bit, teleport 6 inches above the other guys shoulder. Most things don’t bother with these questions, meaning what a character can and can’t do is frustratingly arbitrary. In Worm, these questions are both answered and relevant.

[ash-says]

Tips on how to dodge personal questions in a Professional Setting:

I know. I know. I said I will be on a break and I still stand by that but it was difficult to throw away the sudden surge of motivation so here I am.

I received a request to make a post on this long back so here is your girl serving it. Honestly I am not much of an expert at it either but I have some ways that work sometimes so here goes nothing.

1) Do not give in to the pressure.

Literally that's the starting point. Whenever someone asks us a personal question we feel obligated at some level to answer because of xyz reasons. That's why we first need to escape the pressure of answering.

2) Straightforwardly and Politely state I am not comfortable answering that.

The bulletproof method. No explanation needed.

3) If you are in a situation where the person is being really nosy and can't take a no for an answer. Try saying to them,"I don't understand how it's relevant to our topic of discussion."

4) If you are not in a position to decline at all which happens when the person asking the question is of higher authority and has influence in this situation give vague answers that lead nowhere.

Example: So are you dating anyone?

It's tough to say in particular you know the dating scene nowadays it's difficult to put a name on anything.

Or what do you do on your weekends?

Nothing just the usuals. I am an office worker after all.

This creates a sense of familiarity with the crowd but at the same time does not reveal anything in precision.

5) Turn the topic on them. One of the smartest things you can do is make them the central focus. People love to talk about themselves so it works most of the time until you come across someone truly smart.

Example: hey how's the new office? Are you liking it here?

Ans: Well I am still getting used to the environment here. What about you? How long have you been working here?

6) Another thing you can do is dance around the topic but not on the topic. You remember how you used to write a 1 mark question for 5 marks exactly like that. Tell the prequel and sequel of the question but never answer the exact question.

7) This one is kinda rude I won't suggest doing it around randomly but if you have been in the corporate space for sometime you would know that there are some people who like to ask things only to belittle you or spread gossip or to be mean. The jealous ones that don't have a life of their own.

In case they ask something or say something rude or cross a boundary just start singing a song or change the topic completely. Don't acknowledge anything they say and continue with your random talks or humming. Trust me it's the easiest way to get rid of them.

Still some are persistent and will try to get an answer. Simply say it's not worth discussing. It's boring.

8) Apart from that there are subtle things you can do which can create a persona that conveys you are not open towards personal questions. You can do it by simply detaching yourself whenever someone starts talking about their personal lives. Don't be a participant or a listener. It gives a que you are not looking to bond personally and many other similar things.

9) If you are truly in a toxic work culture where your colleagues seem to constantly bug and bully you to share personal stuff (happened with me in my previous workplace) Firmly state,"I come here to work not to make personal relations."

10) Ignore.

I hope it helps even a little there's not much we can do without offending the other person but we can be gentle and polite in our tone and gesture that's the only way.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[laterreurofficial]

Hi! I found this au today and it's SOOOO interesting to me!! I literally scrolled through every single post about it, lol. I do have some questions of my own (a few of them actually, I don't expect all of them to be answered! Just answer which ever you want!):

- You mentioned that Paris is under quarantine, but also established that Paris is vital to the France economy, plus there's the fact that so few people are actually connected to Hawkmoth (like, around 2000, but Paris has a population of 10 mill). So, would there be any pull to allow some Paris citizens to leave Paris? Provided that they haven't been marked by Hawkmoth? Like, maybe only very skilled workers would be allowed to leave? And only a certain number of them?

- About Paris being quarantined, I can't remember if this is a thing in the show, but is there a reason why Hawkmoth only affects people in Paris?

- you mentioned a research fallacy studying akumatizes.... Do they.... Actually help? Like, is their research ever helpful?? Does Ladybug ever ask for their findings? Or are they rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic?

- is master fu more.... Evil? In this au? I mean, he did give radioactive jewelry to two kids, that will forever affect their lives, and permanently mess them up. Was he not aware of the effects it could have on the kids? Or, like Tiki, did he choose not to tell them? Even if he didn't, he must have had his own reasons for giving some powerful and dangerous jewelry to two kids??

Thank you for listening to my questions!! You've created an awesome au, I can't wait to see more of it!

Paris is under a complete and total quarantine. People can come in, maybe, but they sure as hell can't go out. Felix, Amelie, and Lila enter Paris post-lockdown, and they are not allowed back out. There are actually guards posted with orders to shoot anyone who tries to escape. Commerce and such doesn't completely end, products can be transported in and out, and non-physical communication continues, but it does get notably worse. MAGIC JEWELRY CAN'T SAVE YOU FROM ECONOMICS and Hawkmoth is. very scary.

In LT, it's a range issue. The butterfly miraculous has a set distance you can send the little magic butterflies, and besides that, Hawkmoth here is doing terrorism with the goal of getting his hands on the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous, which he knows are also in Paris after his first akumatization. Why would he make a villain and have them march all the way through the barricade, even if he could?

The general public knows next to nothing about Hawkmoth other than A. he can possess people if they get too upset and B. these people then go on to cause mass death and destruction. This is very scary, a lot of people think he's he devil, and also mostly why the whole quarantine gets set up. The emergency government division researching the akumatizations mostly kidnap people and collect useless information, but some of their data turns out to be relevant, even if it's only verifying the obvious.

Fu is both deeply panicked at the time he passes on the miraculous and too trusting in the process. He gives Marinette and Adrien the miraculous when the first akuma attack has already occurred, and generally knows that if all else fails, the Kwami will mold these already good kids into people who can solve the problem at hand. It's just that the process of adjusting to the miraculous and the frequency of the akuma attacks makes their lives hell. He's from a place where the Kwamis' toll is accepted as a worthy price for the big magic powers, the side effects are invisible to him, as a fellow holder, that's part of the job description.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

You wanna know what I just realized....You know how in chapters 1-4 MC/Yu kept asking Crowley to go home. But Once Chapter 5-7 they stopped asking to go home and gave up. Why? Did they just change their minds once they got friends or did they just give up on trying completely until Orthro put it back in their brain? Or Did they just gave up on asking adults period?

Oooh, interesting topic 🤔 I went back in each book to see when instances of Yuu asking about going home were brought up and (shockingly) this actually happens very little, maybe a few times max in the main story (not counting the prologue):

***Main story spoilers (INCLUDING book 7) below the cut!!***

In 1-19, Yuu does NOT ask Crowley; Crowley is the one who brings the topic up. He claims he is in the library to research a way to send Yuu home, and definitely is not reading the latest edition to a new novel before anyone else (which, come on, we all know Crowley is just giving a convenient excuse for himself). Crowley's presence here is then used to inform us of a way to dethrone Riddle via duel.

In 2-4, Yuu DOES ask Crowley when summoned to his office. Crowly then says he is busy preparing for an inter-dorm Magift/Spelldrive tournament, so he hasn't made any progress for Yuu. In 2-14, Yuu also wonders about when they will be able to go home while talking around the campus at night, but does not discuss it further with others.

In 3-6, Yuu does NOT ask Crowley; again, Crowley is the one to bring up the topic when trying to get Yuu to convince Azul to stop his shady dealings. He uses their rising food bills and all that "effort" he's putting into researching as a means to guilt trip Yuu into agreeing.

In 4-2, Yuu DOES ask Crowley if he's actually researching. This occurs because Crowley is all decked out for vacationing in a tropical destination, so Yuu of course questions whether he's doing any real work. Crowley defends himself by saying "When in Rome, do as the Romans do!" and that he's broadening his knowledge base by researching in a southern region.

After book 4, there are no new explicit or even implied scenes of Yuu asking Crowley anything about home. However, 5-33 does feature a flashback to the prologue in which Crowley is struggling to find Yuu's home on a map.

There isn't really a strong mention of Yuu going home in book 6, unless you want to count Yuu talking to Mickey through the mirror and wondering what's on the other side.

7-10 and 7-11 has Ortho to concluding that the mirror with Mickey could be a "connection" to Yuu's original world, and can thus serve as a route home.

Most discussion of Yuu going home is concentrated in the prologue (as it is an important piece of the set-up and explanation for Yuu's presence in Twisted Wonderland), as well as book 7, when the issue becomes very relevant again. There is the occasional instance of Crowley using "oh, there might be information here about a potential way home" as an excuse to rope Yuu into an event's story (ie Glorious Masquerade), but nothing meaningful ever comes from it. These are just contrivances to bring Yuu and Grim along for a more immersive self-insert experience.

If you want a boring answer as to why Yuu asks/seems to care so little about going home and stops completely by the start of book 5, I would wager it's the metacontext. Even in books 1 through 4, Yuu going home is mentioned like maybe once and then is dismissed for the rest of the book. You’ll also notice that in these instances where Yuu going home is mentioned, they are almost immediately then used as a springboard to propel the problem of the week onto them to resolve. Yuu going home isn’t a plot point for most of the main story, it’s a plot device to force Yuu into an OB boy’s path.

There is very little urgency granted to finding a way home because you, the player, WANTS to be in this magical world even if Yuu, the actual in-game character, may be uneasy being away from their friends, family, and home world. Yuu's unease is most likely not depicted or not frequently brought up because it would interfere with the player's enjoyment of the escapism to another world. These desires very obviously clash with one another. However, because the game itself is trying to tell you its story, it has to provide a reason (no matter how nonsensical it is) for there to be no progress made in the search (thus keeping Yuu in Twisted Wonderland), and that reason often happens to be Crowley's incompetence. This is not true of all iterations of Yuu (as the light novel has a strong focus on Yuuya’s anxieties about being in a new world), but it must be this way specifically for in-game Yuu since they are the most easy one for players to project into.

If you're looking for a meatier answer, consider this: book 5 is the turning point in the main story. Before book 5, Yuu seems to defer to Crowley for finding a way home. They don't really wonder or investigate into this area on their own. By the start of VDC/SDC training, it's mid to late winter, or about halfway through the year. Given that Yuu is incentivized by the promise of renovations to let the NRC Tribe boys use Ramshackle as their base of operations, I get the impression that maybe Yuu thinks they'll be stuck in Twisted Wonderland for longer than initially anticipated. Rather than an "I give up", it feels like a "boy, this is taking a while so might as well upgrade the accommodations and make myself as comfy as possible while I wait it out" This thought is helped by the fact that book 5 is also the first time when both Yuu and Crowley don't mention them going home, but also nothing disparaging or hopeless is referenced. As I've said before, we still get a flashback from Yuu which is centered on them going home, so it's clearly still a topic on their mind. It's just not consistently shown to us so as to not interfere with players self-inserting or to avoid making the gaming experience not fun by focusing on Yuu's distress or worries.

Many other significant things happen in book 5 which makes it the "turning point": Malleus reveals his true identity to Yuu, Grim finally going a little feral from the blot stones, and Yuu seeing and speaking with Mickey clearly. From there, Yuu starts thinking about the mirror and how it could lead into another world. They begin to take more agency in their own return, later confiding in their friends about Mickey and what he means for them.

Book 6 mostly glosses over Yuu going home because... well, let's be honest, there's a lot more immediately at stake with six students being kidnapped and experimented on. Yuu's focus and concern is on getting them (and especially Grim) back safely. They weren't thinking about themselves or their own situation back then, they were thinking of others.

Going home returns in book 7 because it has story significance once again. Yuu going back to their own world adds to the growing dread and sense of loneliness that our OB boy for the evening, Malleus, feels over Lilia's departure. It helps to push him closer to the brink of snapping. What's more, this contributes to the overall themes and questions that book 7 poses: those of farewells, change, and leaving friends behind. These are sentiments that Ace, Deuce, and Grim discuss in 7-17, and they parallel Malleus's own anxious thoughts. In all previous books, Yuu's own quest to get home is not closely tied to the themes of a particular book, or it simply was not relevant to mention (it would disrupt the ongoing conflict or pacing).

Finally, to more address each of the specific things asked by the asker (since I know the information in this post is sort of all over the place and might be hard to match up to each question):

[Yuu] stopped asking to go home and gave up. Why?

Yuu did not frequently ask about going home to begin with. (Again, likely because on a metatextual level, the story needs an excuse for Yuu, ie the player, being present in Twisted Wonderland and experiencing its happenings.)

At that point, it comes down to individual interpretation as to why, but personally I believe Yuu realized that the solution was more complicated than just poofing up a portal home, so they decided to make themselves comfortable while they waited for updates rather than keep asking only to be constantly disappointed. Later on, events going on around Yuu become too hectic for them to focus on their own wants.

Did [Yuu] just change their mind once they got friends?

Wouldn’t this imply that Yuu didn’t consider Adeuce and Grim “real” friends until the start of book 5??? I just don’t think that’s true; they were friends way before this point, not hanging out with each other for convenience’s sake. Why would they sit together at lunch every day? Why would Yuu try to help Ace make amends with Riddle? And why would Ace defend Yuu when Riddle insults their upbringing? Why would Yuu try to free the idiots of their anemones at the risk of going homeless themselves? Why would Adeuce use public transportation to go all the way from the Queendom of Roses to Sage’s Island because of a SOS text from Yuu? The same logic goes for the Ramshackle Ghosts, who are very friendly with Yuu and Grim. They play games with them, tell them about the school, and even do Yuu’s chores for them while they’re held hostage in Scarabia.

I also think gaining friends isn’t necessarily a strong enough reason for Yuu to renounce their old life and suddenly be committed to staying. Yes, it can be said that this could change depending on individual interpretation of Yuu—but assuming a very basic backstory, a regular person would not be so quick to forgo their old friends, family, etc. I don’t think new friendships are a significant motivator for Yuu no longer asking about home.

Or did they just give up on trying completely until Orthro put it back in their brain?

Yuu didn’t stop thinking about going home just because they stopped asking about it. Post book 4, they are shown to have flashbacks to earlier discussions of going home. Yuu hardly ever expresses thoughts about their original world or wanting to go back (most likely to not break the self-insert immersion of their character), so it’s easy to perceive this as “Yuu gave up completely/Yuu forgot about it until book 7”.

Or did they just gave up on asking adults period?

I believe Crowley is the only adult Yuu really asks about finding a way back. I doubt Yuu actually thinks all adults are as useless in this endeavor as Crowley is, but we aren’t ever shown Yuu communicating in this manner to other adults. Crowley is the only “required” adult to interact with on account of being the headmaster typically forcing you into the plot anyway. In conclusion (I know I keep bringing this point up, but it’s because I truly believe in it), this is all probably done for convenience and/or to allow the player to fantasize and imagine themselves or their own Yuusonas navigating these circumstances. They don't want to constantly keep the story gloomy by having Yuu angst about how they miss home or how badly they want to go back. They want you, the player, to enjoy the world and the people of Twisted Wonderland and never want to leave, even if it may be contradictory to what Yuu themselves fails to express in the narrative. This is 100% intentional, and it's made clear because it ties in very deeply with the themes in book 7, which is when the idea of Yuu going home becomes extremely relevant again. Book 7 creates an analogy between a digital pet that Malleus owns and how sad he is that its lifespan has to end, that the digital pet is just "fiction designed to amuse". This is also true of what Twisted Wonderland (the game) is. The player is in the same circumstances as Malleus, who is too attached to his fiction and doesn't want to let it go.

As much as the game's structure encourages self-inserting, it cannot be denied that, ultimately, the perspective of the player ≠ the perspective of Yuu. The player does not actually have to worry about never returning home or being stuck in a foreign world, at the mercy of strangers (which, if not for entertainment purposes, would be something truly terrifying to deal with). The player is glimpsing into this other world for fun and can step away whenever they want. Yuu can't.

askhdvasoydvuealalf I know this was a lot, but I hope it made sense and properly communicated my thoughts ^^

[ryuseiired]

"wait, why does jackalope say mikoto is at the top of murders?"

I've seen a lot of people confused about this so I thought I'd make a post on why I personally think this comment makes sense and isn't, like I've seen a few people get worried about, implying anything new or even especially large about his murder count.

My take, heavily influenced by this post, is that Mikoto has killed three people. The post referenced points out that MeMe shows three murder scenes with discrepancies– using the images they do as reference we can see two clear and notable differences in location, and one scene where the outfit has changed and lacks the hoodie.

(As a side note, if we take that post's proposal as to who committed which murders– one by Mikoto and two afterwards by John– I wonder if this shot from Double with two mannequins next to him implies John's actual kill count? Not particularly relevant to the overall point but I thought it was interesting.)

So... three total murders would technically mean the Kayano system meets the criteria of "three or more" murders to be a serial killer. But I don't actually think it's as bad as a lot of people assumed from Jackalope's words. He's not a super prolific serial killer or anything, only just barely meeting the criteria. Three isn't that big a number in the grand scheme of things, it's just that it's large enough to put him at the top of MILGRAM.

Most other prisoners only have one victim. Haruka, excluding what's implied regarding animal death, appears to only have one human victim, that being the little girl who appears in his MVs. Meanwhile Fuuta, Muu, Mahiru, Kazui, and Amane all have made it pretty clear at this point that they have singular victims– Killcheroy, Rei, Mahiru's boyfriend, Hinako, and Amane's mother, respectively.

This leaves only a few others with unclear victim counts.

Yuno isn't clear on how many abortions she's had, only states that it's her crime and that it was the result of "lots of sugar-daddying". Whether or not she actually got pregnant and had an abortion more than once over the course of the compensated dating is left uncertain. She could be among the prisoners with one murder, or could have multiple.

Kotoko could either have one kill or two kills depending on what you believe about Deep Cover. If I remember right the guy she beats up in the alleyway during Harrow doesn't die, we only see a news article saying he's been hospitalized? I can't find the source on where I saw this though so take it with a grain of salt. The fact she did kill the guy in the hoodie, Kaneshiro, is indisputable.

The question becomes, if she was tried and found innocent for it already before being put in Milgram, was that really all she's in for? Most of Deep Cover takes place afterwards. Either believing the theory that she indirectly or accidentally got Lucky killed, or simply using the circumstantial evidence that it seemed like she was going to hunt down someone else towards the end of the MV and the prisoner card doesn't look like the warehouse she killed Kaneshiro in, I personally believe Kotoko has two victims.

Nobody seems to really know how many people Shidou killed, but it's also pretty heavily suggested that it's a lot, judging by how many people and/or organ donor cards we see in Throw Down and Triage. He is usually assumed to have the most murders out of anyone in Milgram, which I personally agree with.

This leaves us with a kill count ranking that looks something like:

Shidou (many, many victims)

Mikoto (three victims)

Kotoko/Yuno? (one or two victims?)

Everyone Else (one victim)

This puts Mikoto, assumedly with three kills, at the second-highest kill count in Milgram, but Jackalope isn't implying an unreasonably high number by pointing out how far up he is. Nothing more than what was already shown to us in MeMe, anyway.

And while I can't speak on this. the exact wording Jackalope uses in Japanese may not imply he has the most or is at the top anyway, just near it. Which would be consistent with him having second most!

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 12) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Chapter 12

Saintess.

You look down at Kazuo’s one-word text, your stomach twisting. You’ve got no idea where he got that name, or what question he was ordered to ask that led him to it. You text back. Is that even a real word?

The question was whether the League of Villains has allies beyond those who were present at Kamino. Kazuo texts back slowly. Too slowly. The typing bubble seems to hover forever. I was unable to give them any more information about the villain known as Saintess.

Kazuo’s careful with his words. If he framed the question that way, then your name would be excluded – even though you pal around with villains, even though you’re the girlfriend of the League’s ringleader, you haven’t committed a crime. The word ‘villain’ wouldn’t apply to you, which means you’re safe. Thank you.

We need to talk in person. Tonight.

Why?

I’ll meet you after work.

Meeting you after work means he’s coming to your workplace, after work. Whatever this is, it’s important. And it’s going to clash with one of your other plans, which is also important – and a lot harder to get out of. You hate yourself as you ask the question. How long will it take?

As long as it needs to. Kazuo doesn’t really get irritated anymore, but you can remember what it used to feel like when you pissed him off. Do you have somewhere to be?

You do, actually. Tenko is supposed to negotiate with Overhaul tonight, and he wants you to be there with him. Overhaul wants you there, too – when you listened in on the phone call, you heard him mention “the one in grey” specifically. What is this about?

The Shie Hassaikai.

Shit. Hold on.

You turn to nudge Tenko awake and find him watching you through half-lidded eyes. He doesn’t sleep much, but when he does, he sleeps like a log. He barely stirred when your alarm went off. “Who are you talking to?”

“My friend Kazuo.” You brace yourself. “I can’t go with you to meet Overhaul. I have to meet him instead.”

Tenko doesn’t look happy, and he’s still half-asleep. It’s going to get worse. “You have to go with me. He asked for you specifically. If you don’t go, he’ll suspect something.”

“Tell him we can’t tonight,” you say. “Even if we’re supposed to be allies, we shouldn’t jump just because he says so. That looks suspicious, too.”

“Maybe.” Tenko looks like he’s considering it for a second. Then he shakes his head. “Tell your friend you can’t.”

“I can’t do that. I have to meet him.”

Tenko’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

“He has a quirk called Search Engine. He works for the HPSC gathering intel.” You try to figure out a good way to phrase it, then realize there isn’t one. “He knows about you and me.”

“And he’s a hero?”

“Not exactly.” You wonder if there’s anything else Tenko needs to know. “It’s not relevant, but I dated him in high school.”

“What?” Tenko looks like he’s going to blow a fuse. You’re pretty sure the structural integrity of everything he’s touching is in danger at the moment, regardless of the gloves. “He’s blackmailing you. That’s why you have to go. I’ll kill him.”

“He’s not blackmailing me.” You can’t let Tenko meet Kazuo. You can’t let anything happen to your old friends because of your new ones. “He’s been telling me how to stay clear of his searches. This morning he texted me to let me know that my code name popped up, but nothing else.”

“He’s a hero, but he’s helping you,” Tenko repeats. His expression darkens. “He likes you. That’s why. Do you like him?”

“He’s my friend,” you say, exasperated. “Half the reason I dated him because he reminded me of you.”

Tenko coughs. “What?”

You decide to pretend you didn’t say that. You unlock your phone and show Tenko the conversation in question. “He has information about Overhaul. We need that. Before we meet him?”

“Why would he know you needed information about Overhaul? What does his quirk do?”

“Search Engine – it lets him find the answer to any question he asks,” you say. Tenko looks – well, you’re not sure how to classify that expression. Somewhere between skeptical, pissed, and panicked. Whatever it is, it’s uncomfortable. “The problem is that it’s hard to come up with a query that excludes every answer except the one you’re looking for. And all that information comes in at the same time, so it’s hard to sort through. He –”

You trail off, trying to figure out how to explain. “He went to UA, but they pushed him too hard. His mind broke down and he dropped out, but the HPSC conscripted him to help find you. And since I’m with you, and I’m his friend, he’s helping me avoid getting caught.”

“Which means helping me, too.” Tenko looks really skeptical now. “I don’t buy it. No hero would help you if it meant helping me at the same time.”

“He’s not a hero,” you say. “The heroic system ruined his life.”

That seems to land a little better with Tenko than your previous explanations. He hands your phone back to you. “So he knows something about the Hassaikai that he wants to tell you,�� he says. You nod. “And the stuff he’s told you before has been useful.”

You nod again. “Then I’ll tell Overhaul to shove it,” Tenko decides. A smirk crosses his faith at the thought. “We’ll meet him tomorrow instead. He’s not the only ally we’re considering. He can wait his fucking turn.”

You text Kazuo back, confirming the meetup while Tenko reads over your shoulder. At first he’s just looking. Then his chin notches against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist. He’s wearing the gloves he went to bed in, and you let him rustle around for a few moments, getting so close he’s practically glued to your back. That’s going to be a problem in a few minutes. You have to go to work. But at the same time, you aren’t ready to go just yet. Lately you only feel normal when you’re with him.

“That guy,” Tenko says after a minute or so. “Did you really date him because he reminded you of me?”

“I was always going to be friends with him, but he made me think of you, and that’s part of why I dated him.” It’s embarrassing to admit this. You don’t like thinking about how much of your life has been marked by losing Tenko. “He was what I imagined you’d be like. If nothing had changed.”

You hadn’t realized that there was something else to it at first. Kazuo was brilliant, and he was funny, and he was kind. Half the girls in your class had a crush on him, but he wound up with you, because you made sure you were there. If there was something he needed, you had it. If he needed a partner for an assignment, you were right there, on top of everything, ready to pitch in and make sure his ideas shone. If he wanted to talk, you dropped everything to listen. You weren’t playing a part; more auditioning for one. The job of Kazuo’s sidekick, in theory. In practice, his girlfriend.

He was your second boyfriend. Your first one was an asshole who cheated on you with Mitsuko, who dropped him when she found out and made you drop him, too. That was how the two of you met, and you’re still amazed that the two of you are friends rather than mortal enemies. Kazuo was different than that, almost perfect, a version of Tenko all grown up, without the scratching and the father who shouted and a heroic quirk. You know he loved you, and you were close even after the two of you broke up, until UA pushed his quirk past its limit. And you loved him, too, in a way that was probably healthier than the way you – feel – for Tenko. Like Kazuo said, all those months ago: He never tried to kill you. And you’d never step in front of a bullet for him.

“What I would have been like,” Tenko repeats. “You must have been disappointed when you saw how I turned out.”

You elbow him lightly. “What part of me chasing you down the street said ‘I’m disappointed’? Don’t be dumb.”

“Don’t fall in love with any more heroes, then.” Tenko lifts your phone out of your hands, drops it somewhere in the blankets on the bed, and pulls you back down with him. “I already locked it down.”

He’s kissing you, one of his hands flirting with the edge of your shirt, slipping beneath it. You touch the screen of your phone and wince when you see what time it is. “I have to go.”

“It won’t take long.” Tenko’s hand slides all the way under your shirt. “I know what you like now. I’ll be fast.”

He’s probably underestimating how much time it takes for you to get fully turned on, but then again, it feels different with him. And it’s not something you want to get into before work. “I bet I can be faster.”

“Huh? You can after I –”

You twist out of Tenko’s arms and push him onto his back. He was already half-hard when he was holding you. By the time you disappear under the blankets, there’s a noticeable tent in his sweatpants. You haven’t asked if he’s okay with this, but when you catch the waistband of his pants, he lifts his hips to let you pull them down. His voice is raspy when he says your name, and before you can ask for his consent more directly, his legs shift apart, making more room for you between them. That strikes you as an invitation. You get settled a little more comfortably, although you’re not expecting to stay here for long, before you lean in to drag your tongue across the tip of his cock.

Tenko’s hips jerk. “Hold still,” you say. “Or I stop.”

“Why do I have to hold still?” Tenko freezes anyway, and you almost laugh. “It’s not fair.”

“I said I was going to be fast. I need your help. You can help by holding still.”

“So you’ll stop if I don’t.”

“Let me think.” While you’re thinking, you lick the tip of his cock again, and this time, Tenko stays still. You reward him with a kiss, and slowly open your mouth, tasting him for a long moment before pulling away to speak. “I guess if you don’t hold still, I’ll have to hold you down.”

His hips jerk again. You feel the muscles in his thighs go tense. Is that an idea he likes? You were just being playful, flirty, but suddenly your head is full of the idea of pinning Tenko’s hips to the bed and teasing him until he can’t take it any longer. You don’t get the sense that it would take very long, so you carefully shift your weight, to the tune of a sharp intake of breath from the head of the bed. Suddenly the sheet shifts back, and you glance up to find Tenko propped up on his elbows and staring down at you with glassy eyes. He wants to watch you suck his cock. That’s fine with you.

Unlike the first time you touched him, Tenko keeps his hands to himself. They’re curled into fists at his sides – no, grasping at the sheets – no, grabbing a fistful of his pillow and holding on tight. You keep your attention focused on the tip of his cock, since you’re not confident in your ability to suppress your own gag reflex, and you really don’t want to ruin Tenko’s first blowjob ever. But you’re not going to say it isn’t tempting. Every time you glance upwards, he’s a little more undone.

You’re just considering whether it’s worth a shot when Tenko’s mouth opens and a plea spills out. “I need it. I need you.”

He needs you. You wonder if something so simply can really be the magic words, the thing that takes you from unsure to dead certain, but you’re already taking him further into your mouth, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock as you breathe through your nose. Tenko shudders, gasps so sharply that could almost be a whine. You struggle to think of a way to signal your approval and finally settle on running your thumb over the exposed crest of his hip. You had one hand free when you started; now you have two, because you’ve taken his cock so far into your mouth that there’s no room left for your hand.

With Tenko’s hips held down, there’s no risk that he’ll thrust and trigger your gag reflex. You draw back partially, then sink down again, far enough that the tip of your nose brushes the coarse dark hair at his groin. The thought crosses your mind of how disastrous it would be to sneeze right now, and shortly afterward, you discover how difficult it is to laugh with a cock in your mouth. Your throat convulses as you struggle to hold it back, and Tenko moans, so loud and desperate that your face flushes and head floods through you.

You’re not laughing anymore. You draw back and sink down again and again, trying to keep the motion as smooth and effortless as possible, and Tenko’s body seizes beneath you. His back arches, and he stammers out something like a warning. It’s late. You’re not a fan of the way cum tastes – you haven’t met anyone who is except Yoshimi, and you think she’s probably lying about that – but you find that you don’t mind so much when it’s Tenko’s. There are a lot of things you don’t mind so much when it’s him.

You pull away once he begins to go soft, then duck back in to kiss the spot on his hip you were running your thumb over. He doesn’t make any move to pull his sweatpants back up, so you do it for him, and you take the opportunity to look him over. You thought he was just worn out. Now you think he might be passed out. “Are you okay?”

One hand catches you by the front of your pajama shirt and yanks you down for a kiss. You try to hit the brakes – kissing after a blowjob is iffy, and you’re not sure if Tenko knows that – but he won’t let you, and your lips crash together hard. He speaks without letting you pull away. “You just sucked my soul out through my dick. Of course I’m okay.”

“I think those two statements contradict each other.”

“I don’t care.” Tenko’s other hand comes up, landing half on your hip, half on your ass. “My turn now.”

“No.” You pull away and scramble out of bed. “Maybe later. I have to go to work.”

“Maybe later?” Tenko looks affronted, or he would if he wasn’t struggling to keep his eyes open. “What? Do you think I’d be bad at it?”

“I don’t think that. I just have to go to work. And you need to go back to sleep.” You’re pretty sure his soul’s still attached, but you definitely sapped most of his energy. Not enough to stop him from pouting, though. “Definitely later. Is that better?”

“No.” Tenko yawns. “But I’ll take it.”

He lets you go, already half-asleep as you pull your hand free, and you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth, noting an odd spring in your step. You haven’t felt this good waking up in a while. Maybe you should start the day like this more often.

Nobody else is awake when you head out to the living room and kitchen, which isn’t a surprise. Compress has been sleeping a lot, which is good – an injury like his requires extra rest. Twice goes to bed early, like an old man, according to one of his two personalities. Toga stayed up late. So did Spinner, and so did Dabi. Dabi’s the only one who stirs when you start picking through the kitchen for breakfast. “If you’re gonna fuck him before seven am, tape his mouth shut first.”

Half of you cringes at the thought that Tenko was audible from the living room. The other half, though – “Nobody made you listen.”

“Kinky. Maybe we should change your code name, Saintess.”

“If you think that’s kinky, you really need to educate yourself.”

You probably would have thought not caring if someone was eavesdropping was kinky back in the day, but then you met Mitsuko. She and Dabi would probably hate each other. Then again, Mitsuko’s not above a bout of hatefucking. Maybe that would be good for her. Speaking from personal experience, there’s nothing like getting intimate with a villain to exorcise some of your hatred of heroes.

It doesn’t matter, because there’s no way you’re introducing your friends to the League. The fact that Kazuo knows is bad enough. You make tea, pick through the kitchen for something to eat on the walk to work, and put on your shoes. It occurs to you that you should probably say something Dabi, because he’s awake, but you can’t figure out what it should be. “Um, have a good day.”

His response comes back dripping with condescension. “You have a good day too, Saintess.”

You lock the door, struggling to suppress an eyeroll. He’ll probably give Tenko a hard time once Tenko wakes up, but hopefully the blowjob high will insulate Tenko from caring about it too much. That’s not the only thing you’re hoping it’ll insulate Tenko from. At some point today he’s going to remember that you’re meeting up with your hero-adjacent ex-boyfriend after work, and the less time he spends thinking about that, the better.

You’re worried work will drag, but it speeds past, keeping you busy enough that you don’t worry too much about the fact that the League is still holed up in your apartment. Kurogiri’s looking for another potential hideout, but you don’t get the sense that any of them are in a particular hurry to leave. After all, your place is a guaranteed roof over their heads, a source of running water, a source of internet access, and a semi-comfortable place to sleep, more comfortable now that you’ve invested in an air mattress that sleeps two. You wouldn’t want to leave, if you were them.

You’re not sure you want them to, either. When you’re with them, you don’t have to lie to anybody about what you’re doing. When you’re with them, you’re not worried about being found out. When you’re with them, you’re with Tenko, and you – like him. You like him so much that you stepped in front of a bullet for him and gave him head with absolutely zero prompting. You’re not sure which of those is more out of character for you.

Your last patient of the day has a weird injury, weird in that even when you rack your brain, you can’t think what could have possibly caused it. It seems like his hand’s been degloved completely, then flipped inside out, with veins and muscles and layers of fat on the surface and skin enfolding his bones. “This was a quirk,” you say, once you’ve clenched your jaw and concealed the surprise. The patient nods. “What happened?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s not our policy to ask questions like that,” you say. The patient shrugs. He’s not the most talkative, which is fine. You get his permission and take some pictures, getting as many views of it as you can, before you render a potential treatment plan. “I’m going to call a doctor to look at this, but based on what I’m seeing, this is a hospital matter. We’ll most likely prescribe you some painkillers for the trip and wrap this up to prevent any more exposure to bacteria. Do you have any questions?”

“Are you sure you can’t fix it here?” The patient’s expression says he doesn’t want anything to do with the hospital, which isn’t a surprise, but you’re fairly sure the doctor will be able to talk him into it. “They fixed whatever’s wrong with your hand, right?”

You glance at your bandaged hand, surprised. You’re still covering the scratches Tenko left, just because the scabs keep cracking. “That’s different. Mine are superficial. Yours is – just sit tight. I’ll grab the doctor and she can explain.”

The doctor on call is on break, and not happy to be interrupted. “Sorry,” you say. “The patient in Exam 3 – his hand’s turned inside out. He doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but –”

“What do you mean, turned inside out?”

“I mean, the muscles and blood vessels are on the outside,” you say. The doctor’s eyes widen. “He might need emergency surgery to keep the hand, and it’s probably infected already. I can’t talk him into going to the hospital. I’m just a nurse. Maybe if you explain –”

The doctor sets her bento aside and gets to her feet. “Did he say how it happened?”

“It was a quirk,” you say. “I took photos already. I’ll add them to our database while you talk to him.”

“Name, age, quirk.”

“He didn’t give a name. Early thirties. Quirk – I don’t know what it’s called, but his hair looks like arrows.” Sometimes quirks are easy for you to guess. Sometimes not. “He’s a little guarded, but he came here for help. That counts for something, right?”

The doctor nods. “Upload the photos. I’ll go talk to him.”

You added the photos to the clinic’s shared drive already, and you steal the doctor’s chair to upload them to the database that covers all the clinics in the network. Keeping a database of quirk-related injuries helps identify trends, develop treatment protocols, and tailor supply and personnel distribution. If a lot of burn injuries are showing up at a particular clinic, it’s helpful to be able to supply that clinic properly. But you’ve never seen an injury like this before, and when you add the photos to the ‘open wounds’ folder in the database, you realize that no one else has, either. There’s nothing even remotely close. What kind of quirk could do this?

You’re puzzling over it, wondering if it’s worth querying public records over, when you hear a door open and shut down the hallway. At first you think it’s the doctor coming back. Then you hear the exit door at the far end of the hallway open and shut, too, and thirty seconds later, you realize that something’s wrong.

You race down the hall, skidding into Exam 3, and find the doctor sprawled out on the ground, conscious and aware and bleeding from a superficial scrape in her upper arm – but not moving. “What happened?”

She tries to answer you, but she’s speaking with agonizing slowness, almost completely unintelligible even when you try to read her lips. You hurry forward, checking her respiration and heart rate, horrified to find at least thirty seconds passing between each beat of her heart. What is this? How is she still alive? The first answer is clear: A quirk. Your patient’s quirk, which you didn’t ask about, because it’s policy not to ask. The second answer’s in doubt, and although it’s never happened while you’ve been on shift in three and a half years of working at the clinic, you know what protocol mandates when a staff member is attacked.

You press the panic button taped to the underside of the desk – why didn’t the doctor go for it? – triggering a clinic-wide alert and placing an automatic call to the emergency line. Then you turn your attention back to the doctor, the doctor you sent in here alone, checking for pupil movement, for pallor, for anything to tell you whether you need to call a code along with the alert.

Emergency services get there before law enforcement’s even left the station, and because you had contact with the attacker, too, you’re sent along in the ambulance to Yokohama General. You spend the entire way there trying to stay out of the EMTs’ way and trying to apologize to the doctor before letting this happen, until one of the EMTs tells you to can it. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t have sent anyone, but you didn’t. Put the blame where it belongs.”

That’s hard to do. Lately you’ve been so used to placing the blame on yourself that it’s turning into your default position, but this time, it really isn’t your fault. You never would have sent the doctor to check on the patient if there’d been any indication that he was dangerous. You didn’t know. That’s all.

At Yokohama General, the doctor’s whisked up to intensive care, while you’re held back in the emergency room. You’re not sure what they’re looking for – you touched the patient while you were unwrapping the bandage he’d tied around the wound, and nothing happened to you – but you hang out in an exam room anyway, with nothing to do but nap behind a curtain and text Kazuo. Might be late. Somebody attacked a doctor at work and I’m at the hospital.

“I know.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. The curtain peels back and reveals Kazuo standing there, wearing a pair of glasses and a suit jacket over his usual white shirt and slacks. The man standing next to him is wearing a suit and a pair of glasses, too – but his suit is grey, and his hair is green with streaks of yellow, and –

Sir Nighteye. You shrink back in horror, and the third member of the trio, a blue-skinned woman with a mask over her face, pipes up in a hurry. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help! Sir is very friendly! He loves to laugh!”

Sir Nighteye glances briefly at you, then looks to Kazuo. “Is this your friend?”

“I would give her space,” Kazuo says. “She was attacked on her way home last year, and was a first responder to the incident at Kamino Ward. Therapy for these traumatic experiences has not progressed as far as those who care for her might have hoped.”

You give Kazuo a dirty look, which he ignores. “I see,” Sir Nighteye says, and takes a notable step back. “I understand you had contact with the individual who attacked your coworker.”

“Yes. I examined him.” You wonder how Nighteye’s quirk works. How long it works for, and if he uses on you, how far ahead in your life he’ll be able to see. “If I had known what he was going to do –”

“That wouldn’t have been possible,” Nighteye interrupts. Maybe it’s eye contact. You bow your head. “Describe the injury to me.”

“Um –” The word that comes to mind is ‘horrific’, but after what you’ve seen over the last few months, your bar for horrific is pretty high. “It looked like his hand had been turned inside out. Skin on the inside, veins on the outside.”

“I see. Did it appear to be clean?”

“What?”

“The separation of the skin on his hand from his wrist,” Sir Nighteye says, impatient. “Was it jagged or clean?”

“Oh.” You think of the photos you took. “Jagged.”

“But the skin was otherwise intact?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” Nighteye says again. What does he see? You need to know. You need to know if you can go home tonight, or if you have to stay as far away from Tenko and the others as possible to keep them safe. “You’ve been working there for three and a half years. Have you seen an injury of that type before?”

“No,” you say. “Not in our database, either. He said it was caused by a quirk, but our protocols don’t allow us to ask more than that.”

“Kiyohara.” Nighteye doesn’t say more than Kazuo’s family name, but it’s clear what he wants. “Now.”

Kazuo’s hesitating, and you know why. “That question is too broad,” you say to Nighteye. Nighteye pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, eyebrows raised. “It has to be more specific, or the information influx will risk overloading his brain. Since you don’t care about his health, maybe you’ll care about the fact that he won’t be useful at all after a grand mal seizure.”

You haven’t blown up on a hero, ever. Suddenly you get why Mitsuko’s been doing it. It feels good, and Nighteye, unlike the sidekicks, doesn’t rise to the bait. “Is that so?” he asks Kazuo. Kazuo nods. “We’ll secure as much information as possible before you make the query. As of now, you’re off-duty. And you’re free to go.”

That last is to you, but a warning look from Kazuo keeps you seated on the bed until Nighteye and his sidekick are gone. You open your mouth and he holds up his hand. It pisses you off. “Don’t shush me. What was that about?”

“Not here. Outside.”

You grit your teeth and follow Kazuo out through the emergency room and onto the street. It’s dark, and with autumn well on its way, the wind whipping between the buildings is cold. You follow Kazuo for two blocks, then into a park, before he stops walking and turns to face you. “You shouldn’t have spoken up. I told you – you can’t save both of us.”

“So I was supposed to just sit there while he made you overload your quirk?” You’re already out of patience. “No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“The Nighteye agency is investigating the Shie Hassaikai,” Kazuo says. Your jaw drops. “They’ve enlisted the help of dozens of unaffiliated heroes. It’s the largest operation any hero has conducted since Kamino, and it will be far better planned than Kamino was. Sir Nighteye won’t act until he’s certain of victory.”

“Why are they investigating the Hassaikai?” you choke out. “Is it because of –”

“Your friend’s involvement is tangential. They aren’t after him this time.” Kazuo’s hand rises to his temple, and you catch it, pull it back down. You spend a lot of time dragging your friends’ hands away before they can hurt themselves. “Nighteye has been pursuing the Hassaikai since before Kamino. Their investigation is related to the distribution of Trigger. You’re familiar?”

You nod. A solid thirty percent of your patients who show up in costume are showing up after experiencing the adverse effects of Trigger. The compound boosts quirk activation at the cost of everything else, and it’s one of those things you’ll never understand about people with quirks – that constant desire for more of it, more power, more everything. “The Hassaikai’s involved with that?”

“They’re distributing an inferior version of it,” Kazuo says. Tenko didn’t know that. You know he didn’t, because he would have told you. How much else doesn’t he know? “And lately they’ve been distributing something else as well. Bullets that erase quirks.”

“I know,” you say. Kazuo looks surprised. “It’s temporary, but they work.”

Compress’s quirk came back within twenty-four hours, but you know it’ll be a long time before anyone in the League forgets what happened in that warehouse. The bruise on your shoulder is fading, but the creepy red lines haven’t. “Nighteye believes that Chisaki is pursuing a more permanent version of the quirk-erasing bullets, and doing so through less than ethical means,” Kazuo says. “Every use of my quirk in the last six weeks has been related to this investigation. Your new name came up in my queries because you crossed paths with Chisaki once. If you, personally, aid him in any way, you’ll become one of the investigation’s targets. So will your friend.”

Chisaki must be Overhaul’s family name. You wonder if he’s got a family. “I don’t think we’re planning to help him,” you say, and see Kazuo’s eyebrows lift. “He killed one of us and maimed another one. That’s not forgivable.”

“Indeed.” Kazuo sits down on a bench, and so do you. It’s quiet for a little while. “So. Saintess.”

“I didn’t pick it.”

“I know,” Kazuo says. Of course he does. “I’d have advised you to choose a name soon regardless. As this escalates, you’ll need to shield your true identity.”

“So I won’t go to jail,” you clarify.

“So you won’t be killed,” Kazuo says. You stare at him. “I’m aware of the – position – you hold in your friend’s organization. If his enemies believe they can use you against him, they will do it, and since targeting you when you’re with him will be difficult, they’ll do it when you’re alone, as a civilian. My query indicated that you haven’t been found out, but today was a very near miss.”

That should make sense to you. You force yourself to think. Why would the Nighteye agency care about an attack in a free clinic on the rough side of Yokohama? They wouldn’t, unless – “Was that guy one of the Hassaikai?”

“Sir Nighteye suspects he is. He won’t know for sure until I search,” Kazuo says. His phone buzzes. He checks it and sighs. “My parameters are in. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Kazuo –” You don’t know what to say, and he’s already getting to his feet. “Why are you helping me so much? You could get in trouble.”

“I don’t care about that,” Kazuo says. He barely cares about anything anymore. Seeing the apathy overtake him for the past three years has been agonizing. “The world your friend wishes to create, a world without heroes, is a world where this would not have happened to me. It’s too late for me, but there are others who could be spared.”

You look at him, feeling your throat tighten and your eyes burn. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you,” Kazuo says, for the third time today, over his shoulder as he starts the walk back to Yokohama General, “you can’t save us both.”

You’ve always thought he meant himself and Tenko when he said that. Now you wonder if he means himself and you. You wonder what saving either of you would mean. And you wonder if it’s too late for you already.

Your phone buzzes, and you look at it. It’s the new group chat, the one you made because you couldn’t face the thought of never seeing Sho or Hirono’s phone numbers pop up again. Mitsuko’s texting you. And Ryuhei. Quit being a stranger. Come hang with us.

Tenko and the others are already expecting you to be out tonight, and you never said how long you’d be gone. Where are you?

Look up.

You look up, and sure enough, your friends are strolling towards you. “Kazuo dropped a pin,” Ryuhei calls once he’s in earshot. “We never see you anymore.”

It’s been a while since you saw Ryuhei, but Mitsuko? “We saw each other five days ago, Mitsu.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t exactly fun. And you had to run off to your stupid job.” Mitsuko rolls her eyes. “Come on. Let’s go out. I swear I won’t get wasted and spit on any more sidekicks.”

“And no peeing on the All Might statue.”

“Fine.” Mitsuko heaves a dramatic sigh, while Ryuhei cracks up. “Drinks first.”

“Drinks,” Ryuhei agrees. “I found a maid bar, and they’ll treat me like a creep if I go in there alone.”

You’re pretty sure the three of you together look weirder strolling into a maid bar than Ryuhei would have by himself, but nobody who works there comments on it, and they’re nicer to you than you expected them to be. One of them knows you – she’s one of the people who uses the clinic as a primary care provider, so you’ve seen her a few times a year for the past three years. She cracks a joke about how Ryuhei would look better in a maid costume than she would, which leads directly into Mitsuko bullying him into trying on the headpiece of one of the costumes. You take a picture before you can stop yourself and drop it in the group chat. Kazuo’s busy, but now there’s a record, and you’re pretty sure it’ll make Yoshimi laugh.

You’ve been most comfortable with Tenko and the League lately, but it’s nice to have a night out with your friends, too – one that’s not complicated by your involvement with your childhood best friend turned boyfriend, who probably fits the criteria of a domestic terrorist and who’s been living in your apartment on and off for the past six weeks with his gang of domestic terrorist friends. Mitsuko and Ryuhei are the most irreverent of your group, and they live the closest to the edge. Ryuhei has a record that isn’t his fault – his quirk is entirely unconscious, and when a sidekick launched a quirk-based attack at him while he was running away from a building he’d graffitied, he couldn’t stop himself from reflecting it back. Mitsuko doesn’t have a record, but the cops in Yokohama know her too well to ever give her the benefit of the doubt again. They might have the privilege of having quirks, but you’ve always been able to complain with them in a way that you haven’t with the others.

After the maid café, you find yourselves at karaoke. You collectively suck at karaoke. Ryuhei’s got the best voice, but his enunciation is the first thing to go when he’s drunk, and you can’t listen to him slurring his way through a song without laughing. Mitsuko is tone-deaf, but makes up for it with enthusiastic dance moves, and there’s absolutely nothing about your performances that stands out. You’re such a nonevent at karaoke that Sho used to fall asleep when it was your turn to sing.

It should be fun. It used to be fun. But you’ve lost two friends now. One of your friends is sick, while another’s being forced into work that could snap his mind in two. Mitsuko isn’t okay; you’re not okay. Ryuhei isn’t, either, and when the three of you are alone and you run out of things to talk about, there’s no point in pretending otherwise.

“Everything sucks now,” Ryuhei says in a break between songs. “Not just since they died. For a while.”

“It sucked the whole time. We just didn’t admit it.” Mitsuko is facedown in one of the pillows on the couch. Her voice is muffled. “It was always bullshit. When they were here, it was easier not to think about it.”

“I miss them,” you say. Your voice wavers, but only once. “I wish they were here.”

“Yeah. They should be here, and those heroes shouldn’t.” Ryuhei’s words are slurred, but he’s getting his point across just fine. “If they’re so great, how come nine hundred people died on their watch?”

They sound like Tenko. He’d be happy to hear this, and like you’ve summoned him just by thinking of him, your phone pings with a text from the burner phone Tenko’s been using to call people – Kurogiri, Overhaul, and you. When are you coming back?

I’ll be back tonight.

When?

Can’t he just trust you? You’re about to text back that you’ll be home when you’re done when Mitsuko scoops the phone out of your hands. “Your new boyfriend’s kind of clingy, huh?”

“No,” you say. Part of you gets a stupid little thrill out of admitting that Tenko’s your boyfriend. “Not clingy. He knows I was meeting Kazuo tonight.”

Mitsuko makes an error sound. “Bad move. Telling the new boy about the former boy makes the new boy insecure.”

“No –”

“Especially if the first guy is Kazuo,” Ryuhei says. “Fucking hell. If I was dating his ex and she went out to meet him – and she didn’t tell me when she was coming back – I’d probably shit a brick.”

“Thanks. I really could have done without that picture in my head.” Even as you return fire, you’re wondering if they’ve got a point. If it’s not just that Kazuo’s working for the heroes. If any part of it is that Tenko’s jealous of the guy you dated before him. “What should I do?”

Mitsuko’s still holding your phone, and to your horror, she sends a text. This is Mitsu. Your girlfriend’s not banging her ex, she’s hanging with us. Chill out.

Tenko texts back immediately. Two words. Prove it.

“He wants proof,” Mitsuko announces. “Selfie time! Look cute.”

You can’t manage looking cute. You’re too stressed to look cute, and too distracted by the stupid faces your friends are making. Mitsuko snaps a photo and sends it off, followed by a text. Your turn.

For what?

To prove you’re not banging your ex right now.

You cringe. “He doesn’t have any exes.”

“Aww, you’re his first? No wonder he’s acting like such a freak.” Mitsuko snickers. “It’s fine, anyway. We already know what he looks like.”

Something about that strikes you as odd, but before you can ask, Ryuhei pulls a phone out of his pocket. Not his. This one has a cracked screen and a case with an Endeavor pinup card taped to the back, and all at once there’s a lump in your throat. “Is that Hiro’s?”

“Yeah. They released her personal effects, fucking finally. I was her emergency contact, so I got them.” Mitsuko takes the phone from Ryuhei, your phone forgotten even as it pings again. “You know she was conscious under there?”

Your stomach clenches. “No.”

“Like the whole time. When I unlocked it, there were a whole bunch of undelivered messages, to all of us. I guess the wreckage blocked the signal.” Mitsuko’s voice is flat. Her eyes are filling with tears. “She recorded a message for us. Here.”

You don’t want to listen. You don’t want to see. Not when you had something to do with the disaster that killed her, not when it’s partially your fault. The screen is black, but you can hear Hirono’s voice, rough and choked with dust and tears as she tells all of you that she loves you, that she hated waking up most mornings except that you all made her stupid life worth living. No jokes about Endeavor. No picking on you for being boring or Mitsuru for being a simp for his latest girlfriend or Mitsuko for whatever item of clothing she bought that Hirono hates. Just Hiro saying she loves you. And Hiro saying goodbye.

You’re crying by the end of it, messy, stupid tears. Ryuhei’s teared up, too, but unlike you, he’s still able to talk. “That was the last audio clip,” he says. “There were a bunch of others. While she was trying to grab the phone, I guess. The first one was really interesting.”

He presses play on it, and you know instantly what it’s recording: The fight between All Might and All For One, audio that the news helicopters couldn’t have picked up, audio that would have been suppressed if anyone had gotten ahold of it. All For One is taunting All Might over his failures, mocking him for his ideals, the same words you can imagine Tenko using but with thousands of times more glee. And then you hear it, All For One’s voice chilling your blood even through a recording: “There is one thing you might be interested to know. Shigaraki Tomura, my apprentice? He was once known as Shimura Tenko – your beloved master’s grandson!”

You freeze in place. “That name sounded kind of familiar,” Ryuhei says, after he’s hit pause. “We couldn’t figure out why at first. Yoshimi was the one who got it. Shimura Tenko was your friend. The one who went missing.”

“We all told you he was dead, but you were right and we were wrong.” Mitsuko sprawls out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “We figured there couldn’t be two, so we checked with Kazuo, and then we asked if we should tell you. If it wouldn’t be too hard on you with everything else going on. You know what he said?”

You can guess. “He said, What makes you think she doesn’t know?” Ryuhei mimics Kazuo’s frozen voice. “And then it all made sense. Why you’ve been acting so weird. Why you haven’t been around. Where you got that weird scar on your wrist –”

“And that bite mark on your neck,” Mitsuko adds, and your hand flies up to cover it even though it’s long gone. She waves your phone at you, the screen lit up with texts from Tenko. “I’m texting Shigaraki Tomura right now, aren’t I?”

You could lie. You need to lie. But even as you’re stammering through the first sentence of your denial, you know it’s too late. Your friends know. Kazuo as good as told them. And in some weird way, you’re relieved. You don’t have to lie any more. You can let it go. So you stop talking, except for one sentence. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Are you kidding me? We don’t want to rat you out,” Ryuhei says. “We want in.”

You stare at him. “We want to meet him first,” Mitsuko says. “Since you’ve been hung up on him since you were a toddler and your judgment with guys isn’t usually garbage –”

“But we want in,” Ryuhei interrupts. “Like we said. It’s been bullshit for a long time. At least your psycho boyfriend is doing something about it.”

“So?” Mitsuko looks at you expectantly. “When do we meet him?”

Your phone pings again, and again – and then it starts ringing. Mitsuko holds it out to you, and you answer the call. “My friends want to meet you.”

“I’m not jealous,” Tenko says. Someone guffaws in the background. “I’m not. I thought someone had – when are you getting back? It’s –”

“My friends want to meet you,” you say again. “Do you want to meet them?”

“They want to meet me,” Tomura repeats. He sounds just as confused as you feel. “Like, me, or –?”

“They know. I didn’t tell them, they guessed.”

“We want in,” Ryuhei says loudly, and you jump. “Do we have to audition or something? I’ve got a record.”

“I’d have one if I hadn’t blown my arresting officer,” Mitsuko adds from your other side, and someone on the other end of the line – probably Spinner – breaks out in a coughing fit. “So?”

Tomura’s quiet for a second. “In a few days,” he says. Ryuhei digs an excited elbow into your side. “Tell them they’d better know exactly what “in” means for them.”

“I’ll tell them,” you say. He’s stressed. You can tell. This is your fault. “Sorry.”

“Don’t. When are you coming back?”

“Soon,” you say. “I promise. I –”

Whatever you were going to say gets drowned out by Mitsuko making incredibly loud kissing sounds right next to the microphone. You hang up and shove her away, hard. Not that it bothers her. She’s cackling to herself. “He said yes?”

“In a few days. And you’d better know exactly what you mean when you say you’re in.”

“Nice!” Ryuhei gives you what’s probably a friendly punch in the arm, and you recoil with a hiss. He hit just above the impact point of Overhaul’s bullet. “Oh, sorry.”

Mitsuko has a weird look on her face now. You decide not to overreact to it. She might just be drunk. When Ryuhei hops up to go rent your karaoke booth for another hour, she turns to you. “Does he hurt you?”

“Who, Ryuhei?”

“No. Your boyfriend.” Mitsuko’s expression is serious, maybe more serious than you’ve ever seen it. “That thing on your wrist. I remember when your voice was fucked up, too. There’s more, right? Something’s up with your shoulder. Did he do that?”

You shake your head. You didn’t step in front of the bullet on Tenko’s orders. He was mad at you for doing it. “But he’s hurt you before,” Mitsuko says. You open your mouth and she talks right over you. “You’re going to say he didn’t mean to, right?”

But he didn’t. The first time, he didn’t remember you until it was almost too late. When he bit you, he didn’t realize how hard he was doing it, just like he didn’t realize he’d activated his quirk the first time you touched him. When his nails tore up the back of your hand, it was because you put your hand there. “He didn’t mean to,” you say. Mitsuko makes a derisive sound. “Don’t. I know him and you don’t. He didn’t mean to.”

“Just because he’s sorry doesn’t mean he didn’t mean it,” Mitsuko says. “I know guys like him. I know them better than you do.”

Guys like him. Magne said something like that, too. You didn’t try to talk her out of it, and you don’t try to talk Mitsuko out of it, either – just like you’ve given up trying to talk Tenko out of the lies his master told him for now. “You’ll meet him soon. You can make up your own mind.”

Ryuhei comes back, and you and Mitsuko shut up in unison. “We got another hour, but then they’re kicking us out,” he reports. “We got another few songs. Who wants to sing?”

You don’t to. Mitsuko does, though, and after two songs from her, Ryuhei commandeers the mic and forces you to sing. Like always, you’re boring enough to send at least one of your friends to sleep, and with Mitsuko passed out on the couch, you hand the mic back to Ryuhei. He’s in a good mood, at least partially because he’s drunk, but you’re most of the way to sober, and you can’t help feeling like you’ve screwed up. You wanted to keep your friends out of this, and they’re in. You’re this close to getting Kazuo in trouble, too. And you’ve let Tenko down. Again.

You text him, wondering if he’s still awake, hoping he isn’t. I’m sorry.

Don’t. We still need allies, and if you trust them, I can trust them, too. Tenko’s response comes back fast, and the weight of his trust knocks the air out of you. When are you coming home?

We’re leaving soon. I should be home in an hour or so.

Good. Tenko’s immediate response gives you that weird hit of normalcy again. It’s a normal conversation, the kind you’d be having if you’d grown up together and gotten together and moved in together, if nothing had gone wrong. I miss you.

I miss you too.

“Hey,” Ryuhei says, and you look up. “I’m putting on the performance of a lifetime here. You two aren’t even watching?”

“Sorry,” you say. Mitsuko sits up, then lies back down with her head in your lap. “Go for it.”

Ryuhei gets back to it, aiming slightly sulky looks your way, and you settle in. You keep your eyes on him, but your mind’s left the building. It’s already on the train, halfway back to your apartment, all the way back to your apartment, through the front door and home to your best friend.

[portablegoose]

Woooo so the Magnus Protocol premiered and I have things to say and things to overanalyse!

As we know, 'Chester', 'Neil' and 'Augustus' are, maybe?, Jon, Martin, and Jonah, respectively. Hence this:

And, of course, there's 'J1', 'M1' and 'J2' in the trailer.

However, I've seen confusion over the fact that the third 'Error' is voiced by Tim Fearon, who as far as I'm aware has not previously voiced any characters in the Magnus universe. Even though the name is distorted, I can make out what looks to be an H at the end of the name, so this very well may be Jonah.

My theory is this: 'Augustus' is Jonah (or just his voice). However, since the body of Elias was killed in the Panopticon, Jonah does not use Elias' voice anymore. Jon, Martin, and Jonah are all disembodied, if we are to believe they are somehow inside the computer/other technology (ie Alice/Sam's phone in the pub scene) or in some way somewhere adjacent to the world of Protocol. So it could, in a dream-logicy eldritch sense, follow that Jonah is able to survive in his own creepy old ass man way, and use his original voice. Obviously, I cannot corroborate this claim in any meaningful way. We have not heard Augustus speak yet, but I think it is a possibility nonetheless.

The fact that Augustus supposedly shows up to read cases aloud significantly less than Chester and Neil could also be a clue. Maybe Jonah is weaker than Jon and Martin due to his injuries, and is therefore unable to materialise as often as Jon and Martin. Maybe the voice that speaks the true cases (because, similarly to how true statements were identified using the tape recorder in TMA, I imagine true cases will be singled out using the text to speech system) is relevant to the case itself - ie, Jonah only speaks when a case is heavily linked to the Eye, etc.

Furthermore, there's the question of who is spying on who and when/why. By this I mean that we hear our perspective switch between devices (the phone, the computer, the security camera during Colin and Sam's interaction, etc), and I believe that this happens because one or more of the 'Errors' (as I am going to refer to them henceforth) is travelling between devices to spy on the characters' conversations. What we hear is dictated by what the Errors, characters who have prior knowledge of the Fears, deem important. This is backed up by the episode's closing scene: Colin's paranoid closing lines. It is clear that Colin believes someone is listening to them, and it is implied that he has made a connection between this and the Errors. What intrigues me is the Errors' motivation for doing this at all. If what they deem important is what we hear, and this is the first that we are hearing, then it seems to me that it is Sam's arrival that has given them cause for concern, or (in Jonah's case) hope (if he is plotting to return, or something, I don't put it past the scheming weasel). So, why are they listening? And how can we really tell if what we are hearing is the spying of Jonah, or of Jon and Martin?

Another thing. Jonny makes a point of letting us know that Alice does not think the work they do is of any significance, or is checked by anyone. She constantly mentions it in passing and is very casual in her attitude towards work. We obviously have the foresight to know this isn't true. The reason I point this out is because of what Sam does when filling out his paperwork: he ticks the 'Response' box, to which Alice responds that it doesn't matter. This could be nothing, it probably is nothing, but I feel like the fact that Sam has ticked the onboarding box of a mysterious department of an already mysertious organisation might come up later...

Yes I know I am jumping to a lot of conclusions, especially where the Errors are concerned. Please take every theory you hear, from me or anyone else, with a grain of salt, this is all speculative. From a writer's perspective, I honestly think it's pretty likely that Chester and Neil aren't actually Jon and Martin, and just their voices taken by the Web or something, but shh I can dream.

Edit: oh my god they changed his name to Norris that is even worse. Jonny and Alex were fr like 'neil is too kind, we need the name to be Chester levels of horrific'

[loveandlegacy]

ngl i think there are a lot of cool/interesting things to say about the sex scene between jayce and mel, but i am not wild about justifying it by pointing to its plot relevance. its presence IS justified, i just think the furthering-the-plot argument is using the wrong framework to understand the function of sex in media at all and kind of belies a deeply conservative impulse about what sex is or does or what it's for in art. and like i don't really blame anyone for this. i think this attitude of 'well it has to be plot relevant to be present' particularly in film is born partly out of a reaction to a long history of film & tv having gross attitudes about women and very unpleasant assumptions about roles in sex.

in tv in particular, hbo comes to mind as having been the only prestige network for a really long time where nudity/semi-explicit sex was permissible. and like while it was/is permissible, a lot of hbo productions deploy sex in a way that feels deeply unimaginative and misogynistic. obviously hbo isn't the sole culprit. the whole concept of the male gaze was developed bc of film's treatment of women, and the games industry stacks on top of that by being so misogynistic in its sexualization of women that it feels like a joke. so i get why people balk at that — i do too — but these media properties and outlets shouldn't be the gold standard for sex in media anyway and the solution to them shouldn't be "well sex is only Allowed when it serves the very utilitarian and quasi-calvinist purpose of furthering the plot".

if nothing else, sex is an important part of life and connection for many people. including it in art to demonstrate or reflect that fact is ideally something normal, or could be if we in the united states could at least deconstruct our neuroses about sex. my one friend always says that sex in itself is a kind of character study, which is valuable regardless of how much it furthers the plot. you can even see this with jayce and mel! people joke a bunch about jayce being the little spoon and not to be like too annoyingly into close readings of a sex scene but the entire arc of his encounter with mel tells you a lot about both of them as people that arguably could not really be presented in any other context. mel initiates but she does so in a moment of vulnerability, right after talking about her family, a major pain point in her life (and not lol after she supposedly like...bamboozled him with Sexual Allure and alcohol or whatever people say). jayce follows her lead for a while (she kisses him first, he is happy to have her push him onto the bed) and eventually breaks from this pattern to go down on her, not to demand something for himself.

either this says something about him as a person or says something about gender and expectations for sexual courtship overall in the world of arcane. like in our world men who "submit" (lol) to women's sexual desires or who give primacy to a woman's sexual interest are still framed kind of as a joke in mainstream US culture even though 'mean mommy dommy' jokes abound on the internet. but is that also true in piltover & zaun? is jayce the exception to the rule or is he in keeping with the rule? we kind of don't know ironically bc we have no other information about in-world sex in the whole of season 1. even with the brothel, there are open-ended questions: is trading sex for money illegal? is it illegal in piltover but a weird grey-market activity in zaun? what kinds of sexual mores exist in piltover, zaun, or both, and what relationships to people have to them? vi describes the brothel as 'the one place where all the secrets are spilled' and that seems like it's in keeping with how civilian clients are about sex work irl in the united states but that's more or less all we have to work with.

i'm not saying arcane should seek to answer all these things or to deliver a complete taxonomy on in-world sex and sexuality. the story is dealing with other themes. it just seems strange to me to laud arcane for it's skill in efficient but well-textured worldbuilding and then to abjure the possibility of the presence of sex outside of plot-relevant reasons when sex would tell us as much about the world as the touch that smoking is a sign of power in the undercity.

if the concern is that somehow any non-plot-sex would be too gross in its treatment of women, i guess i would say that it was amanda overton who advocated for the sex scene in the first place, not alex yee or christian linke. so like why not trust that she may be capable of writing/directing further instances of sex without defaulting to something unpleasant?

and if the objection is "well i don't want to be made to feel horny in an otherwise non-horny experience" my answer would be that the point of sex in media can be communicative sometimes, not always titillating. going back to jayce and mel and character studies, i wasn't (and i don't think most people were?) suddenly horny during that scene. i thought the literal art direction was weird, but mostly what i took from the scene about these two characters was that their mode of relating to one another was actually very tender. it cemented that mel was falling in love with jayce, and that the we the audience were supposed to understand their sex as sweet, not particularly provocative or designed to fulfill an assumed sexual fantasy on our behalf.

but there's also no reason to assume that any two other characters in the story would have sex in that tenor, even if they were in love. there's no reason to assume that any two other characters might NOT have sweet sex outside the context of love. the only way we could know that is if it were to occur on screen, and getting a greater diversity of sex and sexual encounters on screen requires the audience to be open to sex not just as a normal part of life, but as a semiotic object in art that has value beyond driving the plot forward.

tl;dr it's nice that the sex in arcane had some greater impact on the plot mechanics, but i don't think that's the primary value of its presence and i'm glad it's there with or without it mattering to the plot. it's unlikely but i hope s2 can give us a fuller picture of how other characters relate to sex as well.

[wordstome]

So… I have a few uni!König questions 🤓📝

(Please, you don’t need to answer all of these unless you want to of course. It's just that this AU has me on my knees, I'm in love with these two nasty gremlins! send help)

1. Does it bother König that their relationship is not official? Or is he happy with the situationship? (This sounds like a stupid question, of course he’s bothered by it. Right?!?)

2. Is König a skilled lover? You said somewhere that reader can’t get satisfaction from other guys because “nobody is as good as König” but does this mean he’s experienced or does he make up for his possible lack of experience in… some other ways? Or is the good sex due to them having this crazy enemies *and* lovers thing going on?

3. Is it enough for König to shoo potential love interests away and off of her by being a hulking possessive menace, or will he still be jealous and butthurt after that? Brood silently for example? Slam doors passive-aggressively? Perhaps even start a full-on argument when they’re behind closed doors?

4. Do you have any hcs of the craziest place(s)/situation(s) they’ve had sex? Obviously because they were so horny or had to hatefuck because the other one said or did something annoying (again)

SALOOOME MY ANGELLL *rubs hands together wickedly* let's do this

1. Not a stupid question at all! In the beginning, it does bother him, especially when he contends with the idea of her sleeping with other guys--or, horror of all horrors, dating someone else. He's also just kind of a traditional guy who wants to woo a lady, but that would require the lady in question to be wooed. At some point, though, he realizes that it doesn't matter how reluctant she is to make it "official", she's not going anywhere. Then he's just intolerably smug about the fact that deep down, she's just as attached to him as he is to her.

2. I'm glad to elaborate on this! König is less experienced than Cinnamon (which is what I'm calling her for now, it probably won't be relevant in the fic itself but I like giving my MCs callsigns/nicknames). What makes him different than the casual partners she's had before is his dedication to pleasing her, if that makes sense. I mentioned in the headcanon post that "him getting better at fucking really just means he's getting better at fucking her". (continued under cut)

I'm going to elaborate more in the fic (if it goes the way that I have it planned), but König becomes so infatuated with Cinnamon because she doesn't treat him like a weird loser to avoid. It's not really that everyone König knows or comes into contact with avoids him or treats him with contempt--he does have friends, but none that are particularly close. Cinnamon is different in that she's an easygoing person (or at least puts on a persona of being easygoing), so whenever König says or does something dubious her reaction is just the equivalent of "haha, you're weird man, but I like that!" (At least until he starts to annoy her in the best way, and then the whole enemies-and-lovers thing kicks in.) Cinnamon's been with a lot of guys who don't really care about her enjoyment or are assholes in other ways, so König treating her like a priority is new to her and also something she can't find anywhere else. And of course, the more they fuck the better he gets 😈

3. Oh, he gets very jealous and pouty for sure. He does a lot of things as a sort of revenge, like scaring off people she’s flirting with. Initially, Cinnamon doesn’t take him that seriously and just humors him, so he never gets far in terms of being mad at her. (Plenty of brooding, though.) He takes it out on her by being rough and degrading in bed, and when he realizes she isn’t interested in anyone else anymore, he’s a lot more relaxed. At that point nothing she does can upset him because he knows she always comes back to him. By contrast, Cinnamon starts getting agitated because 1. She never intended on having a boyfriend 2. She starts to realize she’s fed a very dangerous beast. I'm probably going to write about their first real fight, and it is messyyyyy.

4. The riskiest is definitely a random utility closet on campus. He probably pulled her in there after she spent an entire lecture brushing his thigh with her foot and didn't anticipate just how immediate the consequences would be >:)

I'm also toying with the idea of him fucking her on someone else's bed, specifically someone she used to hook up with 🤭 They locked the door, but suffice to say that guy knows who she belongs to after that.

[essektheylyss]

The reason that Ashton learning about the Luxon is interesting is not because it would change their stance on the pantheon (considering the Luxon is not of the pantheon and therefore any change in opinion on, say, Pelor, would be a false and reductive equivalence), but because their stance on religion as a whole is currently reductive in a deeply unproductive and, frankly, potentially dangerous way, and the Luxon's existence flies in the face of that.

Ashton has a basic but narrow view of how the gods operate: someone asks for something, and the gods answer. He may acknowledge that generally the answer is given as part of an exchange, but might also feel that the extent of his suffering is worth more than the offering usually made. This is a very valid and understandable position! They suffered under some destructive force of nature, and later under the general indifference of the world, and if there are gods who claim to do good in the world*, and suffering persists, how can those gods be considered just?

This is, I must make very explicit, an incredibly complex and old philosophical question in the real world even where the existence of gods is not a material reality, and not one that's going to be solved by a bunch of fandom bloggers, no matter how enlightened one thinks they are. It is also a question that is straight up not a concern in a lot of faiths, so by necessity, one cannot equate "in this context, are the gods just?" to the question of whether worship, as a practice, is just.

In any case, Ashton's concern is more personal than philosophical—his stance is borne not of any intensive questioning of the justice of gods, but because he's been hurt, and he wanted to be helped, and wasn't**. And this is valid, but the extrapolation to "the gods can die for all I care," does attempt to make that equivocation. In suggesting the removal of the source of worship of a large portion of the world, which at least something of the means to act upon that suggestion, they're implicitly taking the stance that their anger alone is worth more than the mundane benefits that collective portion of the population receives from their worship.

It bears noting here that this is specifically about his anger, and not his suffering, because the death of the gods won't change his history. In fact, nothing is going to change that! This is really where Ashton's anger lies, but the anger isn't actionable there, which is why it comes out elsewhere. When funneled in a reasonable and willful direction (such as towards Ludinus) anger can be very productive; this isn't to say that this emotion is the problem in itself. But directing it toward the gods will have a pointed negative impact on much of the world, and will likely not stop those worshippers who are enacting harm from finding other ways to do so, which means it's a net loss in terms of what Ashton wants, which is to keep people from harm.

And drawing attention to the anger is also relevant, because, well, that's where we get back to the Luxon.

Ashton's Rage mechanic is based explicitly in dunamis and, by extension, the Luxon itself. The ability is linked narratively to their fall at Jiana Hexum's house and subsequent patching up by Milo, who dumped a potion of possibility into their head. When Imogen and FCG have entered his mind, the description is similar to the description of concentrating on a Luxon beacon.

There's an argument to be made that dunamis itself more than the beacons individually is what comprises the entity known as the Luxon; the potions were distilled initially from a beacon, and we've seen other forms of the same thing, such as the purple gems in Aeor. We also know that the Luxon is an entity that may go back to before the Founding***, because Essek, a noted skeptic, found evidence of its existence as such in Aeor, an arcane society that attempted to kill the gods themselves.

The Luxon as a divine entity*** has not, as far as anyone has claimed, directly spoken to a mortal, follower or otherwise. The Dynasty believes it has sent messages that their umavi can divine and interpret into scripture, and in theory clerics that follow it can receive information via divination the same way as any other cleric, but none of these involve direct speech, and overall it's not clear that it is in fact an entity capable of communication as mortals would imagine communication.****

This is notably different than the Pantheon as a whole. The primary boon that the Dynasty believes the Luxon has given them, based on their ability with the beacon to escape Lolth's dominion, is to wield more control over one's own destiny. If we proceed under the assumption that this is how the Luxon brokers any relationship to mortals, then we end up back to the idea that the ability that Ashton has gained from the dunamis that was used to seal their wounds was control over, and the ability to act upon, the anger that they harbor.

It's in fact exactly what Ashton asked for, both in his past and now, in this past conversation with the party, suggesting that he'll actually hear out any god that actually suggests they want him. It's also clearly something they still want, given that they went looking for it in Issylra. No matter how disaffected Ashton may claim to be, his actions betray the fact that he does in some way want the acknowledgment of an entity larger than he is.

So whether or not Ashton changes their tune on the pantheon doesn't matter in the long run. What learning about the Luxon would do is force Ashton to confront the fact that, first, gods as a whole do not necessarily conform to the limited knowledge they've based their views on, and second, that maybe a god already gave them what they asked for.

And Ashton is still perfectly at liberty to ignore that without consequence—the use of dunamis has never been contingent on belief or worship, as evidenced by the numerous wizards who use it regardless. But it does raise the question for Ashton both of his own worth in the view of something larger than he is, regardless of whether he thinks the gods have already discarded him, and also the very premise on which he chooses where to direct his anger.

It's up to Ashton, as it's always been, to actually decide where to go from there.

*I won't interrogate this at length here because I don't think it's relevant, but I also don't believe the Prime Deities have ever claimed that their purpose, if they can be said to have a purpose, is to do good. Even the temples of Vasselheim orient themselves more toward the purpose of maintaining balance and order rather than any concept of "good", and many of the pantheon who are not explicitly included among the Betrayers have neutral alignment.

**For further commentary on the flaws in Ashton's assumptions around relationship to a god, see here.

***The question of whether or not the Luxon is A God is also irrelevant here, because it has been worshipped as such and confers power comparably to the Prime Deities, so we'll proceed without worrying about it.

****For further commentary on the nature of how the Luxon communicates and enacts its will in the Material Realm, see here.

For further commentary on the general tone of this post, see here.

[drop-dead-dropout]

Fuck's a pro shipper?

We've got a new one boys try not to scare em off /j

Okay but seriously, I'm more than happy to explain. I assume that if you're asking this question you're not aware of the proshipper vs antishipper, uh, "conflict", I guess. So, here is what both of those terms mean, to the best of my descriptive abilities:

Antishipper (often just "anti"): someone who vaguely believes that consuming problematic fiction (usually specifically problematic sexual fiction like lolicon or incest) is either a true reflection of them as a person or a corrupting force that will cause them to play out these desires in real life, onto real people. Basically, if you read age gap, you touch real kids in real life or secretly want to.

Proshipper (sometimes "profic"): someone who does not believe the above, and believes that fiction is not the same as reality because it doesn't harm anyone and therefore people should be left alone as long as you have no reason to believe that they would ever do something like that irl. Often hand in hand with things like anti censorship, kink positive, etc, though being a proshipper does not necessarily mean you have a problematic ship or kink yourself (example: me).

You're probably asking this question because you saw me day in my bio that I am a proshipper. I've tried to stay neutral in this initial description, but obviously I probably didn't manage to be completely unbiased considering that I believe myself to be right (most people do) so if you want to ask further questions after this that's perfectly fine. That being said:

Why am I a proshipper?

So, to understand this, let's first look over the issues within both communities— every group has issues, after all.

What problems do proshippers have?:

- sometimes 4chan assholes co-opt the label "proshipper" just because they're lolicons, even though there's good evidence to suggest that they would do or even have done criminal sexual acts in real life, or that they possess actual csam (child sexual abuse material, a term being used in favor of "cp" these days as porn implies consent). Proshipping has nothing to do with the harmful idea that you should be allowed to exploit and abuse real children.

- there are still many gray areas which proshippers themselves don't agree on. For example: I've seen a bunch of arguments about if writing fanfiction of live action shows or movies changes the equation. The general consensus of proshippers is that writing fanfiction of a character played by a child actor is definitely a more delicate situation and should not be sexual as it's inextricably tied to the image of a real child, but there are others who believe differently.

- I'm genuinely struggling to come up with more of these. Um, sometimes lolicons are really shitty people, like in point 1. This isn't SUPER relevant though cause in reality the overlap between predominantly queer or female proshippers and Reddit incels who just wanna jerk off to a petite anime girl is pretty small, though I'm sure it exists somewhere .

Now, what problems do antis have? (Fair warning, this is gonna sound even more "biased" but I hope my logic is still sound from the outside :p):

- I don't have any statistics on this (haven't exactly been many research papers on fandom drama), so you're going to have to trust me when I say that antis are absolutely NOTORIOUS for extreme harassment campaigns. The first time I was exposed to the word "antishipper", it was attached to a story of a former animator committing suicide because antis had gotten them fired by "exposing" their porn alt on Twitter and they could no longer afford medication for their disability. So, hell of an intro!

- their opinions are, in pretty basic ways, not backed by science or even practical common sense. The human brain can distinguish between fiction and reality after around age four or five

and people certainly aren't trying to hand nsfw content to children that age so I think it's safe to say that the people who are reading these things won't be "confused" by them or whatever. Also, even just using your brain and talking to these people, you find out most of them project onto the YOUNGER character.

- they claim to support victims but often simply don't. I won't keep dragging threats into the spotlight because I know there are probably antis who aren't as violent, but it's honestly astonishing to me how often they jump straight to wishing death and terrible things on people, and this has included more than once telling a rape victim they hope they get assaulted again just because they're a proshipper. See, a lot of these "taboo" sexual fantasies like age gap and incest actually themselves stem from a traumatic experience, and any therapist will tell you that fiction is a much healthier way to explore intrusive thoughts and urges than more dangerous coping mechanisms like self harm or substance abuse. And when confronted with this, in my experience and many others', antis will simply ignore that fact or say that the therapist is some sort of evil enabler.

-the general cognitive dissonance of believing an incest fanfiction will make you "forget" that incest is bad vs being fine with horror movies and slashers speaks to a deeper and honestly kind of worrying anti-sex mindset. I'm not sure I'm qualified to tackle this particular topic, but I definitely agree that it's a thing; after all, I have no idea how else those two things could coexist.

Anyways, I'd like to close this off by saying not everyone is as crazy opinionated as I am, I'm just autistic and like talking lol. A lot of people who id as proshippers just have a sort of minding their own business, ship-and-let-ship mentality, and a lot of antis are unfortunately just teenagers who were told proshipper = evil pedophile groomer and thus they put "proship dni" in their bios just cause they don't know and don't really care what it means. It is undeniable that many antis are kids themselves, and that does worry me, because fandom drama (especially Twitter fandom drama) is dangerous and vitriolic and also they're putting extremely serious threats on their digital footprints at the tender age of 14! But whatever, I'm not their parents, that's just my worry. Sorry for rambling this long lol, I wouldn't blame you if you dropped out halfway through but this is basically my summary of this whole thing. Do with this knowledge what you will! Or, you know, don't! I'm not a cop!

[goodluckclove]

I'm having a lot of fun talking with people about why they struggle in their writing, and I figure I'd share a little bit about what would keep me from writing. It's especially relevant given how soon Blind Trust is coming out - and, like I said, if you're willing to be real to me I'll be real right back.

I'll put it under a read more, as I've had the amount of alcohol that it takes me to be extra loose - meaning half of one canned cocktail. And I don't want to freak anyone out who doesn't want to see me feel a little more angsty than I tend to be online. But as I said before, I want to be honest about the craft as much as I urge others to be.

Here we goooo. Say goodbye to proper capitalization babies, Dad's getting funky.

so i started writing when i was twelve years old. i wrote carnation, a 10k word zombie novella about thinly-veiled representations of me and my two best friends at the time fighting zombies. it wasn't very good. i never wrote anything before. i enjoyed it though, so i proceeded to keep writing, near-constantly for the next fifteen years.

here's the thing, though, and it's something i don't see a lot of elder writers talk about. probably because it's not a super pleasant thing to hear, but i'm pretty sure i could pull it off.

uh, my name is clove gardener. i'm twenty-seven years old now. and i do not think i'm that good of a writer.

i don't think i'm bad. i mean, i've been published. i've worked as a copywriter and a ghostwriter. i've written for work for a few years now, so - like - objectively it must be passable. i don't hate my writing. i think it's accessible, which is cool. but if you were to ask me hey do you think you're a good writer? i would skirt around the question without answering directly until i could figure out a way to change the subject.

at this point i don't think that's going to go away. the improvement, though, has been that i barely think about that anymore. it's like there's a little dipshit in the back of my head, and occasionally he will hiss-whisper this is shit what are you doing until I find a way to shut him up.

i kind of feel like that's just the thing that happens when you're a writer. it's the camp i'd rather be in, at least. because the alternative is that i'm a really good writer who might consider themselves capable to claim authority and tell you how to do things i actually know nothing about. i'd rather have doubt. maybe less than what i have now, but still.

writers, i think, overlap with theater kids in the sense of being dramatic little piss babies. i am proud to say that i am significantly less of a piss baby than i potentially could be, especially considering that i'm in writing and theater. but you're bound to be a little dramatic at some point.

i think in the six-ish months since i've started blind trust, i've had maybe two creative existential crises. that's pretty good. that's reasonable. and they were not too unproductive either. i've learned that you can feel whiny and pitying and scared and self-loathing, and still do the thing.

i don't think you should publish your book. cool, ryan (i named my inner dipshit ryan). i'm doing it anyway.

nobody actually wants to pay money for it. yeah, ryan. maybe.

you're a terrible writer. i like it, though. i want to see how it ends. so let's keep going.

if you're wanting to publish/self-publish, and you think you don't have a chance because you aren't a beacon of self-assurance and confidence - guess what, buddy, i don't think many of the greats were. it's almost a stereotype i've seen of famous writers also being angsty weirdos who crumble into despair because the apple they ate was slightly too mealy (this is based on nothing but i can see it happening to kafka). if you think you can't be a writer because you aren't like me - friend, colleague, son, daughter, child, we are both angsty weirdos and that's okay.

last week i sobbed because riley showed me a video where a kiwi bird was sad and we had to spend the rest of the night watching videos of kiwi birds before donating to a kiwi bird charity. i make one phone call to the doctor and i have to lie down for the rest of the day. i am kind, i am fun, i am funny, and i am also like three bad dice rolls away from a breakdown. you can be both of those things. i have nuance.

i'm fine, by the way. it's been a good day. i'm just stressed about publishing because the thought of asking people to pay Human Currency for my work makes me deeply uncomfortable. but we're going to fucking deal with that, aren't we, ryan?

i don't know if this is unprofessional to reveal, but if it convinces one person to pursue a life in writing even though they sometimes take a trip to the Panic Zone, fuck it. i'm fine, you're fine, we're all going to be fine.

we should name our inner dipshits. drop your dipshit names below. ryan is your classic little goblin, but he's dressed like an e-boy. i think he vapes. i hate him.