#its abuse plain and simple

[newbiealliance]

im gonna start blocking anymore anons who send me asks aboht this. im dissociating and i am on the verge of a switch. i hope you people are happy. you still havent changed my mind about anything and i am even more cowed and intimidated by you. block me please just block me its there for a reason

[trees-to-meet-you]

I just really really love Tangled so much

[mycomori]

i should legally be allowed to stab someone i think like i don’t wanna hurt or kill anyone but also i really wanna fucking stab somethin over an dover and over again until i pass out

[dandyshucks]

i think it is a little bit funny (not necessarily haha funny but like a "huh. thats something." sort of funny) that the two main F/Os of mine (Guz and Julian) both have abusive parents fnfkdl like ,,, idk i guess like attracts like but ough theres something about that that makes me feel a little bit "this probably says too much about me" dbdkdkl (also the mk system,, and one could make an argument for the celestial robots too tbh with how theyre treated at the company djdksl)

[heatwa-ves]

reallyyyy nice ryukita parallels

[cressidagrey]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 6

Summary: 

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings: 

Mentions of Child abuse and neglect, Azriel is an idiot and Cilla doesn't even realise that what he is doing to her is kinda messed up.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Cilla poked at the cabinet…put her hand in it…she could feel no difference in temperature. Still, the milk she had removed just minutes before, was perfectly chilled in its little can. . And when she had emptied said can, it had just replenished again. 

She had never seen anything like this before. Granted she hadn’t been able to afford milk much, but she had never seen anything like that.

Tell her it will always fill up again. The can is enchanted. 

She would have thrown that can across the room if she had been holding it. Thankfully she had put it down before she started poking through her mate’s kitchen. 

Cilla was curious. And Azriel didn’t seem to care if she went poking through his cabinets…or under the chairs…or anything else. Though the most interesting thing she had found where knives stashed literally everywhere. It didn’t matter where…out of plain view, and for some reason there was a knife there. She had no clue for what.

Still, the random knives didn’t explain the voices that she was hearing. A voice that definitely wasn’t her own shadows. 

The can is enchanted. It will always fill up again. Her shadows told her. 

Oh. 

She stared at the tendrils that were ghosting around her, somehow just knowing that some were hers and some belonged to her mate. 

And then she reached out, carefully. Just like she had learned to do with her own shadows…like threads connected to her mind that she could tug on and tell them what to do…like threads that she could pull and knot and make sure that they listened. 

Reaching out for Azriel’s shadows mentally was…like trying to catch mist. 

Hello? 

You can hear us? They responded, sounding surprised and delighted. 

Shouldn’t I? she asked carefully. Was she not supposed to be able to hear them? Was she just…Azriel’s shadows were shadows just like hers. It made sense that Cilla could hear them, right? 

You are Master‘s, of course, you should, they agreed easily. Nobody but Master could ever hear us. They told her, twining themselves around her wrists, slipping underneath the sleeves of the blue dress she wore. 

Their touch was comforting, just like the touch of her own shadows…for so long that had been the only touch she had felt that was… nicest to hurt her.

It was comfort, plain and simple. 

She put the jug of milk back into the cabinet, still not having solved the mystery of why it stayed cool. Maybe it was enchanted as well? Maybe…

It wasn’t like she ever had the money to invest into something like that…wasn’t like she had the money for anything of this sort…not to even speak of the rest of this house in the mountains that Azriel called home. 

It was safe and warm and comfortable…and with that already a major step up from everything she had been used to. 

If I can hear you…Can Azriel hear mine? She asked hesitantly. 

Not yet, her shadows answered easily. 

You think he will be? Cilla wondered. Would he be able to? She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be able to read her thoughts like that. If he should be able to…

But then his shadows hadn’t given her anything about his thoughts so maybe…maybe it would be fine. Maybe it would even be…there would be somebody else that she could talk to in the privacy of her mind, somebody that would be there…she wouldn’t be alone. That would…that would be nice. 

If you will it. He’s yours. Just like you are his, Azriel’s shadows answered quietly. We’ll always keep you safe. 

Safe…It was such a foreign concept. Just as foreign as being his…Even when he had left her in this house without seemingly a worry about what she could get up to. 

Even with the 3 dozen knives stashed around. 

Can I ask you a question? She asked as she left the kitchen, a glass of milk in her hand and walked into the living room, in front of the bookcase. She traced her finger over the spines of these books longingly. 

Of course. 

Can you read? She asked, curiously. her shadows couldn’t. Even when they could see things, without having eyes. She still wondered how exactly that worked. She didn’t think that just magic was the answer to everything. 

But then…maybe it was. 

When Master learned to read, we gained that ability as well, they answered. Huh. 

So if I learn to read, my shadows will be able to as well? she wondered. Was that how it worked?

 If

Would you like to learn? They responded and she swallowed. 

Yes, Cilla gave back immediately. She wanted to learn. Desperately.

Books had always been a mystery to her…the idea that she had millennia of information at her fingertips and she just couldn’t access it…it was infuriating. Infuriating and fascinating…but there was nobody that she could have asked. Most of the females that worked at the tannery with her, couldn’t read either. Most for a myriad of reasons -  they had left home too soon, or had lost their parents or caregivers…and had never gotten to learn. 

His shadows wrapped around her wrist, leading her towards the armchair the stood tucked into a nook, another tendril fetching a book that they gave to her once she had sat down, opening it. 

It had pictures in it…paintings. This is a children’s book, they explained to her. A is for Ant…they pointed out the painting picture of an Ant next to the symbol that must be the letter A. B is for Bear. 

And so it continued. They helped her scratch the alphabet onto a parchment they had liberated from Azriel’s desk and went through the whole book with her. From A to Z…helping her sound out the words aloud until she had…she had gotten something out of it. 

She didn’t think that she was going to be fluent anytime soon, but just the possibility.y…she didn’t care how long it was going to take her. She couldn’t care less. 

She had the opportunity…she had the options…she would spend hours pouring over books and learning if that meant that there was the possibility that she would understand them. 

“It seems like you are hard at work.” Cilla didn’t startle, not when she had felt that tug at her ribs but she did look up with a smile, that froze on her face as she took in Azriel. 

He had left her alone that evening with the promise that he would be back soon…and he was back soon. With a bloody nose. 

“What happened to your nose?” She blurted out, her book forgotten as she shot to her feet, immediately reaching out for his face. 

“It’s fine,” Azriel assured her. “I swear,” he promised but she didn’t believe a word of it when she gently tipped up his chin so that she could see the bruises that painted his far too handsome face. 

“It doesn’t look like it’s fine,” she countered. “Does it hurt? What happened?” she demanded, but he just caught her hand in one of his, lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to her skin. 

“It looks worse than it is. Give it a few hours and it will have disappeared,” he promised her. He didn’t answer that question though, which made her wonder…

“Does it hurt?” she asked him, hesitantly. He shook his head, a slight smile on his face. 

“It’s fine,” Azriel promised her, stepping around her to sit down on the armchair she had orphaned and then held out his hands for her. 

She took them and then let him tug her into his lap, much to her surprise. Not that it was uncomfortable…she could splay her wings out behind herself like that and could curl herself together against his chest. 

“I do have some news for you though,” Azriel said quietly. “I found your father.”

Of all the things she expected him to tell her…this was not one of them. This was the last thing she had expected. The very last thing. She had expected everything else before this. 

What? 

Her father? 

How had he even…How had he done that so quickly? How had he even…

Ask him, her shadows whispered. Just ask him. 

“How?” she croaked out, unsure if she really wanted to know. Unsure if she wanted to…

Azriel had found her father. 

“You smell like him, Sweetheart,” Azriel answered gently, a hand drawing patterns against her spine and she looked into his face, finding him watching her with…she had no idea with what. apprehension? maybe pity? She didn’t know. She didn’t even know if she…

She hadn’t thought that he would find him. 

She had never thought that this was a situation in which she would ever be. 

Cilla had always thought that she was…well, that she was completely alone in the world. That this was just…that her mother had died and that her father…that she would never find out who he was or how exactly she had come to be…and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Wasn’t sure if that was…something that she should know. 

She had only wanted to know if he had known. Had he known that her mother was pregnant? had he known that he was killing her mother with that pregnancy? Had he known and had slept with her mother regardless? And had he known…had he known that she had existed and hadn’t cared?

Had not even thought about it? 

And how…how did the way she smelled matter? What did that…How did that…

“I smell like him,” she weakly repeated. She smelled like him. And Azriel had, what, recognised the way she smelled and…

Children smell like their children, her shadows supplied. Yes, she knew that but…

“You know him,” Cilla said flatly, meeting his eyes, something hot and…sharp slicing into her chest. He had known. When he had asked her if she wanted to know who her father was…Azriel had already known, hadn’t he? 

“I do,” he agreed. 

He had known. Cilla was not sure how she was supposed to feel about that. Wasn’t sure if she…

“From where?” she bit out, not asking at him, her hands clenching in her chest. 

“Around 500 years ago… an 11-year-old boy beat me into the dirt in an Illyrian War Camp,” Azriel said with some amusement. “That was your father.” 

So they had known each other for 500 years. 

“You lied,” she said, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “You knew. When you asked me if I wanted to know my father, you already knew,” she accused him.

“I had my…suspicions,” Azriel said carefully. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth. I did not outright lie. If you told me that you never wanted to meet him, I would have kept it at that.”

Would he really? 

“You would have left me unknowing?” she challenged him, clenching her jaw, her eyes shooting up to meet his. 

It was not helped by the argument their shadows were having. 

He wanted to protect both you and his brother. 

He lied, her own shot back sharply. He should have said the truth!

“Your father is one of my best friends,” Azriel said at that moment, his voice quiet. “Your father…he’s…he’s like a brother to me.”

It didn’t matter. Not really. Just one thing mattered to her. 

“Did he know?” Cilla demanded. 

“No. No, he didn’t know,” Azriel promised her, his hand very gently resuming rubbing her back. “

“And you believe him?” She challenged him. 

“He’s a horrible liar and a good male,” Azriel answered honestly. “I trust him with my life. So yes…I do believe him, Cilla. He had absolutely no idea that you even existed.”

Somehow that didn’t make her feel better. 

She had thought that it would make her feel better, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. He hadn’t known. 

All her life, she had wanted to give somebody the fault for what had happened to her and now…now she came up empty. Because he hadn’t known. He had no clue that she even existed. 

She had just been…invisible. 

“Do you…Do you want to meet him?” Azriel asked her softly, still rubbing her back and she swallowed. 

Meet him? Meet her father? 

Why should she…if…

“He wants to meet you…Cassian feels horrible about what happened to you.”

What.

“You told him?!” she snapped, staring at Azriel wide-eyed. He had told him? He had…”You had no right!” 

She flew off his lap, her wings trembling against her back, fury and pain flaring up inside her. 

“Sweetheart,” Azriel said carefully, holding out his hands, but Cilla trembled with rage. “He would have figured it out once he saw you. You are a shadowsinger, you can’t hide that,” he told her reasonably, and she couldn’t help but bare her teeth. 

“What has that to do with anything?!” she bit out sharply. 

“Cilla…you wouldn’t be a shadowsinger without being traumatised in some way,” Azriel said carefully. “That’s what these shadows are…they are a manifestation of your trauma in many ways. You were locked away into the darkness for years. That leaves scars. I know that better than most.” 

“I am not…I am not crazy,” she snapped, her voice shaking. “I…”

“Of course, you aren’t,” Azriel agreed, carefully standing up.  “Nobody said you were, Cilla.”

“Why did you tell him?” She asked, her voice breaking. Why did he…

“Because he’s your father. Because I needed him to understand what you had gone through. And I knew that Cassian would understand, Sweetheart,” Azriel said quietly, taking a step in her direction. “He understands. I swear to you, he understands.”

But would he understand? Truly? 

She could feel her body trembling, tears burning into her eyes

“Take your time. It’s alright,” Azriel soothed her softly. “I didn’t want to upset you, Sweetheart.”

She closed her eyes for just a moment, welcoming the darkness, her old friend.

You’ll be alright, her shadows whispered, wrapping around her like they had done so very often. It’s alright. 

He’ll understand, Azriel’s shadows whispered. The General has his own…trauma. He understands better than most, we promise.

“Cilla,” Azriel said carefully. “Just…give him a chance. Please,” he requested, his voice so hopeful, so hesitant, that she couldn’t help but…

“You’ll stay,” she requested, her voice shaking. 

“Of course,” Azriel agreed. “I’ll stay…He’s outside,” he said, his voice soft. 

Now? Did he mean now? 

Probably so that she was not going to change her mind after all.

“Just give him a chance,” Azriel implored, holding out her hand and she took it. 

A chance. 

She could do a chance. 

Maybe. 

Even when her body already felt like it was shutting down, her hands trembling in Azriel’s grasp, even as he wrapped an arm around her waist. 

“It will be alright,” he promised her, seeming so pleased with her agreement that Cilla couldn’t help but follow along…couldn’t…

The first thing she noticed about her father…was the fact that he was massive. Even taller than Azriel…broader…and he was pacing. There was a female there, beautiful with brown hair and startlingly silver eyes that had made herself a home at one of the boulders near the edge of the mountain lake…but he was pacing circles around her, wings shaking back and forth. 

That was her father?

She nearly stayed rooted in one spot if Azriel didn’t tug her forward carefully. 

“It’s alright,” he promised her once again, though she wasn’t sure who he was telling that. Was it her or himself? “If you need to go, you’ll just tell me,” he soothed her and she took a deep breath. That was something, right? 

If you need to go, we’ll take you away, his shadows offered immediately. There are a few safe places that we know of. 

“Cassian, you are freaking her out,” said the female drily, and her father swirled around. She nearly stumbled back, she would have stumbled back, if there wasn’t Azriel that she stumbled right into. 

“Come sit down, Sweetheart,” Azriel said softly, as he pushed her towards another one of these boulders, sitting across from the female that gave her a smile. “That’s Cassian and his mate, Nesta,” Azriel handled the introduction. 

Her father was mated?

Had he been mated when…

No, Azriel’s shadows told her immediately. Impossible. Lady Death is just a few years older than you. 

Lady Death? Lady Death?!? 

“Hello, Cilla,” her father said at that moment, allowing her no time to freak out about how this female was called Lady Death by Azriel’s shadows. 

“Hello,” she managed to force out, looking at everything but him, her stomach roiling. She wanted to throw up. She really wanted to throw up. Azriel placed a warm, massive hand on top of her own that had curled into a first, but somehow that didn’t make it any better either. 

Her shadows seemed to sense that she was seconds away from running, gathering into the folds of her skirts, worriedly swirling around her, higher and higher. More and More gathered around the hem of her skirt. 

“You know for Azriel, they hide behind his wings,” Cassian said at that moment and she was so startled that she couldn’t help but look at him…and looked straight into…He looked like her. Not completely. But she could see the similarities, in the shape of his eyes and his face…in his hair… “Yours don’t?”

“No,” she said flatly, immediately regretting it when she saw the near imperceptive flinch he gave. “They like to hide in my hair,” she added as an afterthought. 

“That’s…practical,” Cassian answered, swallowing. It became silent once again. 

“I…I didn’t know you existed,” he blurted out. She couldn’t help but look at him startled. “If I had known, I would have…I would have taken care of you. I was born a bastard. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t put any child through the same,” he told her, nearly pleading with her to understand.” 

She had no idea what to say to that. 

If he had known, maybe her life would have been…very different. 

But she still didn’t know…still didn’t know why he even cared. Why did he even want to meet her? He had a mate. If he wanted children, he could just have them with, Cilla supposed. 

Better than her at any rate. 

“What do you want from me?” she asked him, forcing out these words, because she had no idea what else to ask him. 

“What I want from you?” he echoed, sounding unbelieving. 

“Yes. I am an adult now. You don’t need to take care of me any more,” she said with a shrug. She could manage on her own. Somehow. 

“I…I want to get to know you,” Cassian answered and her eyebrows furrowed. Why? “You are my daughter,” he said like that explained everything. Maybe for him, it did. For her…

Cilla was bristling before she even knew what she was doing. “Only because you fathered me, doesn’t make me your daughter,” she told him, her arms crossing in front of her chest. ”You know nothing about me.” 

“Then let me learn.” He said that so easily. 

Like that was all she needed to do. Just give in. Just let him...

"Just give me a chance. Please. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I am not...I do not want anything from you but this. I swear it to you on my life." 

[meanbossart]

do you have any thoughts on cazador as a character? personally i really loved the parallels between him and astarion & the way that the master/spawn relationship is used as an allegory for cyclical abuse. the scene with cazador’s master’s skull where you find out that he was once victimized in the exact same way that he later victimized astarion was really a lightbulb moment for me re: what vampirism represents in this game.

BOY DO I, i don't think much of it hasn't already been said, though. He's a tragic character in his own right of course, not that that takes away from the awful man he is.

Me and my boyfriend make fun of him a lot, we call him "the best BG3 character" as a little inside joke between us and come up with ridiculous scenarios of things that might have occurred throughout those 200 miserable years the spawn had under his command lol. Maybe he had a month where he was really specific about the shoes everyone wore, maybe once every other decade he had a weird week where he tried to be "nice" only to become frustrated when his efforts weren't immediately met in kind by the rightfully-terrified spawn, maybe between all the torture and horrific-ness he just did some plain weird shit like making someone crouch by in his fainting couch and wait by open-handed for grapes that he dramatically chewed on and then spat right out since he can't actually eat them lmao

And that's hysterical but I think we also started doing that because when you meet Cazador, when you first hear his voice and see his demeanor in person your immediate reaction is probably somewhere along the lines of "THIS is the clown you were so scared of, Astarion?"

And the answer is, of course, yes. This embarrassing little man stuck in a cage of his making instills fear beyond comprehension in Astarion and all his siblings. This man who undoubtedly showed all these spawn, inadvertently, the strangest, most arguably "human" aspects of himself at some point or another during these two centuries they had together is also an absolute monster. And i really like that! I think its far more effective and fitting for his story than if he was, lets say, a Ketheric type.

(this got very long so, more under the cut)

Look at Ascended Astarion in the epilogue now, for example. Everyone agrees that he's an absolute fucking dork - and I think we all also agree that he will go on to destroy the lives of many people beyond repair, especially his own, until the day he is killed.

In the topic of vampirism as an allegory for abuse, I both agree and also don't, at least not exactly - i just think it's deeper than that. I've spoken about this in another post but i find it incredibly refreshing how, to me, it seems like Baldur's Gate 3 has no interest in painting vampirism as sexy or fun past a surface level. It's a curse that nobody asks for unless put in a situation where they feel as if they have no other way out, and it shapes and haunts you for the rest of your undead existence.

Even if you enjoy its benefits at first, that has a time limit. You will see your family and loved ones die, you will see culture evolve while you stay perpetually the same. You will experience so much hurt and pain because the only thing that makes life truly sweet is knowing that it is finite, and eventually it will wear down all of your humanity. And since you can't die unless you are scorched by the sun, staked, or dismembered, you must live with the knowledge that you will never have a peaceful death - and since you won't have a peaceful death, you better not die - and if you don't want to die, you better not be weak - and if you don't want to be weak, you must seek out power at all cost and slash things like love and friendship out of your life.

And what is funny, is that in his attempt to be more like a mortal - to eat, drink, walk the sun, such incredibly simple desires - Cazador (and Astarion, if he ascends) is accidentally only drawing further away from the person he supposedly once was, because that fear of weakness has already utterly corrupted his soul.

That's quite a grim way to look at it, of course. But I genuinely think that it is the natural conclusion of something like immortality.

That's why I quite like that, even after Astarion has found happiness, even after he finds his peace, he still doesn't exactly embrace being a vampire - because It's not something he should be expected to embrace. I think it's a very unique take on the trope.

I also want to leave here this message written by his character writer, which really got me thinking about him on a deeper level since i saw it months ago. It is specifically about the sexual aspect, but I think it branches beyond it too, when you think about it.

[smilepilled]

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➻❥⠀⠀AKSEGENDER⠀⠀♡

[Plain Text: Heart arrow symbols, AKSEGENDER, heart symbol /End of Plain Text]

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Flag image descriptions can be found in ALT text, or below — dividers are simple bumpy/round shapes in the same colours as the flags.

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AKSEGENDER; a term under the Akse— system revolving around accepting yourself and XYZ, accepting yourself being XYZ, accepting the very idea/possibility of you being XYZ — this, optionally, also may have to do accepting XYZ in other people's lives, accepting other people who are XYZ, accepting that others may be XYZ and the way XYZ may be preesent in other scenarios and lives.

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General themes/ideas surrounding self-love, wonder, discovery, understanding & finding peace within oneself (in general and/or regarding XYZ) are also included. The flag colour meanings are directly based off from the Gilbert Baker pride flag; red means life, orange means healing, purple means spirit, blue means serenity — additionally, white is supposed to represent wholeness && light grey is supposed to represent the relieving aftermath of struggle through a fog (hence why its light grey, and not dark grey).

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀【 LAYERS: 】

[Plain Text: Bracket, LAYERS, bracket /End of Plain Text]

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PLAIN STRIPES: Stripe One (LINK), Stripe Two (LINK), Stripe Three (LINK), Stripe Four (LINK), Stripe Five (LINK), Stripe Seven (LINK).

STRIPE OUTLINES: Outline One (LINK), Outline Two (LINK), Outline Three (LINK), Outline Four (LINK), Outline Five (LINK), Outline Seven (LINK). Outlines go under their respective stripe layers.

SYMBOL: Main Layer (LINK), Outline One (LINK), Outline Two (LINK), Outline Three (LINK), Outline Four (LINK), Outline Five (LINK), Outline Six (LINK), Outline Seven (LINK), Outline Eight (LINK), Outline Nine (LINK), Outline Ten (LINK), Outline Eleven (LINK), Outline Twelve (LINK), Outline Thirteen.

OTHER: Background/Stripe Six (LINK), Middle Star (LINK), Middle Star Outline (LINK), Minimalized Flag Template (LINK).

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Plain stripes go on top of their respective stripe outlines, background (STRIPE SIX) goes under all layers, star layers go on top of all the previous layers, and the symbol layers go on top of all aforementioned — minimal flag symbol only has the seven first outlines. Please, feel free to send stripe links to the wayback machine/internet archive, if you'd like.

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This term isn't and will NEVER be in favor of abuse, (self) harm, overly negative actions && thoughts, hateful ideas && sentiments, exclusionism of authentic harmless existences, policing what should/shouldn't be, enforced normativity && the promotion, glorification/fetishization/romantization of the aforementioned — however, it may have to do with RECOVERING from such.

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This term may be used without strict ties to gender, meaning it can be AKSE[XYZ] instead of AKSE[GENDER] — it may be used as a general identity term, nonhuman term, mad pride/disabled pride term, a recovery/ex‐‐[community] term, and much more. Of course, it may also be used as a gender term as well!

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Image Description: A extremely complex stripe-heavy flag, with lots of cloudy, wavy and round stripes. It has a total of thirteen stripes, counting the middle one, and has stars in the very middle stripe. It almost has a "tie-dye" vibe to it, but not strictly. Its colours are soft lighter orange, soft chalk red, soft vibrant purple, darker soft purple-ish blue, plain white and light grey. In the middle of the flag, a icon/vector of a person can be seen. It is a very minimalistic rendering of a bust shot, and the head is completely round — there are no distinguishable features. It has many outlines that serve as some sort of "aura", in the same colours as the flag itself.

Image Description: A extremely complex stripe-heavy flag, with lots of cloudy, wavy and round stripes. It has a total of thirteen stripes, counting the middle one, and has stars in the very middle stripe. It almost has a "tie-dye" vibe to it, but not strictly. Its colours are soft lighter orange, soft chalk red, soft vibrant purple, darker soft purple-ish blue, plain white and light grey.

Image Description: A flag with seven stripes, where the top and bottom are thickest and the middle are the thinnest — the second and sixth are thinner, and the third and fifth are even thinner. The colours of the stripes are as following, from top to bottom: soft chalk red, soft lighter orange, pale lemon-ish yellow, plain white, light blushy pink, soft vibrant purple and darker purple-ish blue. In the middle of the flag, a symbol/vector of a person can be seen. It is a very minimalistic rendering of a bust shot, and the head is completely round — there are no distinguishable features. It has a few stripes that act somewhat similarly as an "aura", and these stripes are in the same colour as the flag itself (with exclusion of the light pink, pale yellow, and addition of a light grey).

Image Description: A flag with seven stripes, where the top and bottom are thickest and the middle are the thinnest — the second and sixth are thinner, and the third and fifth are even thinner. The colours of the stripes are as following, from top to bottom: soft chalk red, soft lighter orange, pale lemon-ish yellow, plain white, light blushy pink, soft vibrant purple and darker purple-ish blue.

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Tagging: @radiomogai, @lovesse, @lunentity, @rwuffles, @kiruliom, @gorefix, @melanchollica, @inknoidd, @fwus, @riamuverse / @v-rtue, @gender-mailman, @hypnosiacon, @losergendered, @rabidbatboy, @acronym-chaos, @daybreakthing. Please feel free to ask to be removed or added!

[starleavess]

it's honestly kind of crazy how much of dave's behavior you can compare to a dog's. he's lonely -- he lost henry. he's been abandoned -- by henry dying; he's lost the only person who he considered family before jack. he's hurt -- because of henry and his past, even if he doesn't fully realize that. one of dave's first reactions to rejection and abandonment is sadness. when you decline his offer of murdering children in dsaf 1 is an exception, as it's simply an invitation for jack to 'hang out' with him. one of their first interactions in the trilogy is him suggesting they kill kids to get out of this place that jack got hired at like 5 minutes ago. and... that's quite literally all he knows. he was never taught normal things, he was never taught how to play with other kids or how to talk to people or how to do normal, fun activities. he was taught how to take lives instead. he was taught what to do so that things would go his way, even if he doesn't often use that ability to benefit himself. his number one priority seems to be jack, now that henry isn't around anymore. he focuses solely on him, and if he's going to make fazbenders go down, dave'll help him along the way. he considers jack his family, his partner, his second half. he is forced to love the people he considers close unconditionally on top of everything he does, because that's what he was taught to do. it became his instinct, much like a dog's. his instinct, which he couldn't ignore in the end, nor disobey. henry was the one who forcefully drilled that mindset into his brain through all of the abuse he made him go through and how he kept on treating him when he was younger. dave didn't know he was being manipulated nor used and therefore he thought that this was love. if he wants to be loved, he has to obey. if there isn't anything you can compare something to, how can you know it's right? how could he know what love was if he never truly experienced it?

in the bad ending of dsaf 3, he doesn't push jack away. he doesn't struggle against him as he breaks more than his heart. he simply begs him not to do this as all he does is helplessly "sit" still in one place. a dog which knows its doom is near and all it can do about it is accept it. and those still aren't his final words. his final words are "i love you" directed at jack. his family. a part of him does not want to obey. a part of him wants to lash out, be angry, be angry at the world which turned against him. no longer stay the victim. and we see just that in davetrap, which is a live (even if he's dead) manifestation of that part of dave. no matter how much he tries to get rid of his deeply rooted mindset which makes him hardwired to do what others want him to do, he can't. davetrap can't. he can't because he unreservedly loves people who hurt him. he loves henry and he loves jack. it's just like an instinct. when jack tells him to get out of his restaurant in the neutral ending of dsaf 3, he obeys. when henry asks him a question, he answers. they're his family -- how can he not listen to them and trust them with his life? that's what family's supposed to do, anyway. he learned that family members don't keep secrets from eachother. he didn't mention the box to jack until the bad ending in dsaf 3, which means that he did keep secrets from him in the past, long before he confessed he considered him his family. again, you can't keep secrets around people you love. he gave jack a key to the box and asked him to open it with him like it was a tradition. like it was something they've been doing together for 20 years, something dave can't let go of. dave likes simplicity. i can only think of three examples of simple things which bring him comfort, and the last two are not necessarily… uncomplicated. they wouldn't come across a normal person's mind if you had told them to think of something plain they enjoy doing. but those things are simple to Him and i think that that's very important for his character. even if complicated, it is easy to him. the first thing is vegas. in vegas, he has the chance to just have fun. like a normal person. a normal person with a fucked up and soulless friend, but a friend nonetheless. a person who doesn't kill innocent children. a person who wasn't abused in the past. a person just like all the other people currently at a club with him in las vegas. the second example is animatronics and just tampering with mechanics in general. that is something he is good at, most importantly. he's been working with henry long enough to just tamper with fazbender's animatronics for fun or to disable them to his advantage. he got used to this and it became simple to him with time. and the last thing on the list -- killing kids. that doesn't bring him joy, obviously, but it works as a last resort if things go south. an easy option like many other. he has murdered many in the past, so do just a few more children make that big of a difference? jack is simple to him because that's just someone who he is "friends" with, if you can even put it that way. he clings to him. he's simple, even if he is a very complex character. dave himself is, too, or atleast in henry's eyes. the doctor sees him as dimwitted, someone who's unable to comprehend his genius. like a dog, far below a human person. simplicity isn't something that dave was exposed to very often as a child. he had to constantly perform for food and sleep outside and whatnot just to survive. a kid shouldn't have to be on his own for years. simplicity just wasn't something that was available to him for free in those times.

that was, until he met henry. henry made it better for him, even if there were layers upon layers of abuse under how he was helping dave. he did make it better. he no longer had to fend for himself, alone. he was no longer abandoned, much like a terrified dog picked up from the damp streets. everything was better, so he didn't question anything. he was loved, he had someone close to him, he had shelter, a purpose, even if it was to be used and later discarded, no longer a man with hope for the future. but how could he know? and now, he is drawn to things which he lacked in his childhood. simple things. he loves them unconditionally. they remind him of henry.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for "defending a pedo"

tw for pedophilia and child abuse

(⬆️ to find later)

this happened while ago

i (20F) was talking to a friend about weird life experiences. i was just returned from visiting my grandparents so i told the story about the neighbor that i had there

for context: i live in eastern europe, and for most of my childhood i lived back and forth between the city and the countryside. the countryside in the region im from and this particular village is tough. im talking no running water/ the toilet is in back yard, only one house out of 5 has an internet connection, child labour on the fields, the only school went up to only 8th grade, etc. not the most remote of villages but far far off any "modern society" standards.

during the half of the year where i was at my grandparents up until i was around 12, I had a neighbor my age that i used to play with. she was significantly poorer than us, objectively. while my grandparents allowed me to play with her, they wouldn't like me going to her house instead because of the living conditions. i have gotten fleas from her before and in general the smell and conditions. they also didn't like her because she would try to steal stuff, so i wasn't ever allowed to invite her inside, but they've gotten over this because she was just a kid. her father passed when we were young and her mother is a severe alcoholic and just an abusive monster. she was mostly taken care off by her godmother while her mother beat her, stole her allowance, sent her off to work to the neighbors and do a lot of chores kids shouldnt do etc. before you say "why didnt anyone call child protective services" read again the context this was all happening in. we did our best to help her, once i stopped going to my grandparents we'd ocasionally send her my old clothes that didn't fit me anymore bc her mother refused to buy her clothes. it was geniunely heartbreaking to see because she tried her best to be loved by her mother and to help her. trying to buy her gifts, to be obedient, to take more of the workload, etc.

as i started properly living in the city (500km away) we drifted apart heavily. we simply lived such complete different lives it was hard to talk to her about anything outside of basic niceties. i still cared about her, she is smart and geniunely pushed so hard to go to highschool in the nearest city which is 20km away despite her mother. she was always positive and optimistic and had an insane work ethic. i respected her and wished she had gotten the privilege i had of leaving the village and getting a life in the city but alas.

here's where the "conflict" is: when i was 18 (and she was too) i have heard from my grandparents that she's pregnant. they mentioned it off in passing so i asked them to elaborate bc that was complete news to me. they elaborated that when she was (i think) 17 she met this guy who was 26, they became a couple, and now they waited until she was of legal age to get married. and now she's pregnant. then they told me some stuff that happened pre-mariage, more of her mother's abuse and the likes. they also mention having met the guy and he seemed like he geniunely cared about my neighbor

i felt conflicted on this. on one hand, the age gap is fucked up plain and simple. on the other hand, she finally had her ticket to escape from her mother and her life and to move to the city and i was happy for her. on the other, being pregnant at 18 is insane to me. on the other hand, despite the grossness of the age gap, if the guy is decent its still better than what she would've dealt with if she stayed even longer with her mother. this year, while visiting my grandparents, she came over to visit with her kid and husband and we talked. she seemed geniunely happy. the guy is nice, the kid is healthy, love and pampered, and she finally has some meat on her bones and color in her face. i obviously dont know and cant know what their life is like in the privacy of their own home but compared to the girl i knew before all of this she was doing a lot better. she started a cosmotology school and is soon going to start working. im happy for her, i wish she didnt have to end up being pregnant and married at 18, but i was still happy for her.

everything i said here i told more or less verbatim to the friend i mentioned in the begining. their takeaway was that i was defending the actions of this guy, that i should be even more visibly digusted, and that i support abusive men because i didnt hate their relationship. i didnt know what to even reply to that, as they went off calling me disgusting, calling my village and culture that "allowed" this mariage to be socially acceptable "barbaric" and that i should've spoke up about it. i tried to reiterate my point and clarify that i am digusted by the age gap but the situation my neighbor in was so fucked that you couldnt really do much. they didn't reply, and i haven't heard from them since (idm, we were never really close)

but now im wonder. AITA for seeing this situation the way i do? should i have done more to help her or talk about it?

What are these acronyms?

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Slashers marking you

Requested: No

Warnings: I suppose this can be seen as abuse? Mentions of tattoos, tattoo removal, and purposeful scarring

A/N:

Chromeskull

His tattoo. Plain and simple, he’s getting his tattoo put on you, probably in the exact same place as his. If you already have a tattoo in that area, he’s getting it removed. And once it’s done, he’ll constantly be touching it over the covering, and licking it once it’s healed up. He’ll also touch his tattoo to yours. He’ll compare it to how some people try press their hearts together, the action bordering on romantic in his eyes. A piece of him now connected back to you. Both of you sharing a mark, proving that you’re his.

Bo Sinclair

He makes you get matching scars to the ones around his wrists. Binds your wrists in tape and makes you struggle for hours. You’re not allowed to stop for even a moment, not until your body physically gives out from exhaustion. This will be a daily process for as long as it takes, until your wrists are just as marred and scarred and ugly as his own. But he’ll be so soft with you for a few days after they’re fully healed, gently touching them, so so quiet when he kisses them. Almost like he’s sorry he put you through that, but he’s not.

Vincent Sinclair

He makes you a mask. A wax mask eerily similar to your own face, its lips pressed firmly together, eye holes shaped ever so softly, but with all of it reflecting no emotion. It’s so inhuman, so unlike your own real face despite its resemblance. Whether or not you like it, you’re expected to wear it now, at least during the day. You can only take it off at night, when he’s curled around you, his arms like iron, unwilling to let you wiggle away until the morning. And even after that, you’ll still be glued to his side, he doesn’t want you anywhere else. It’s dangerous after all.

[morally-grey-girlbosses]

Propaganda under the cut.

Catra:

shes a girlboss plain and simple. shes an abused child who lost her closest friend and decided if she couldnt be the hero shed be the villain. she beat up her abuser and became the top commander of the evil army, just under its leader. she tried to kill her ex best friend sooooooo many times. she briefly found solace in the desert but everything came undone and she ended up activating a portal that would destroy the world. she lived briefly in paradise but things went wrong and she tried to kill her ex best friend again. these two are SO homoerotic just to be clear like its genuinely insane. she became consumed by her work and lost her few real connections in the horde. she sent her friend to beast island to die. she hired a hot shapeshifter who betrayed her and her abandonment issues only escalated. shes deeply compelling and sympathetic. she got abducted and joined the evil space empire. she betrayed them. she got mind controlled. her ex best friend saved her. she saved the universe with the power of kissing her gf who was dying of poison. she did a lot of atrocities while she was being the teenage commander of an army trying to take over the world. shes super girlboss. shes snarky as fuck. i love her deeply. vote catra

Did not give a SHIT that the evil invading force she worked for was evil even though she 100% knew. Instead of escaping she thought 'How do I make this worse for literally everybody including myself?' and then she did that.

She qualifies because she is the most morally ambiguous but she did it all out of love for the woman she loves. She's the best there is.

poor little meowmeow who tried to destroy reality bc she has mommy issues. deserves to win bc she is a lesbian and she is so so hot

Jasnah Kholin:

She was a teacher to another protagonist and took a practical approach to the philosophy lesson by baiting some murderers into threatening them and then proceeds to kill them by turning them into fire. She is a brilliant scholar, and a proud athiest in a very religious world. When fighting a war she argues that they shouldn't negotiate with the enemy but that they must all be killed (not just the men but the women and the children). She also becomes queen and one of her first acts is ending slavery.

[nickel156]

I've had it up to 👉🏻 *HERE*

With this fandom.

It’s incredibly concerning when people say you “can’t bring real-world problems” into a fantasy book, especially when it comes to something as serious as Rhysand’s SA of Feyre.

The notion that just because a book is set in a fantasy world, the actions and behaviors within it are somehow exempt from real-world scrutiny is deeply problematic. SA, manipulation, and abusive behaviors are universal issues, regardless of the setting, and they shouldn’t be dismissed just because the story involves magic or mythical creatures. By brushing aside these issues as “fantasy” and acting like they don’t matter, we’re excusing harmful behavior and minimizing the experiences of real people who have dealt with similar trauma.

Fantasy is a reflection of the real world. It may be set in a different universe with different rules, but the emotions, relationships, and struggles are still rooted in things we experience. When Rhysand SA's Feyre under the mountain—by drugging her, stripping her of agency, and forcing her into situations she can’t consent to—this isn’t just a plot point to advance the story. It’s a depiction of abuse, plain and simple, and saying we can’t critique that because it’s “fantasy” allows us to overlook serious issues that affect real people every day.

By dismissing it, we’re sending the message that abuse and assault can be forgiven or romanticized, which is dangerous, especially in a series that has such a passionate and young readership.

Moreover, fiction—whether fantasy or not—shapes how people think and feel about the world around them. If we excuse Rhysand’s behavior because “it’s just fantasy,” we’re teaching readers to overlook, justify, or even romanticize abuse and manipulation.

If people can’t see that this type of behavior, no matter the genre, is wrong and harmful, we’re normalizing it. Just because it’s set in a world of fae and magic doesn’t mean that the characters’ actions are without consequence or shouldn’t be critiqued through a real-world lens.

When we don’t call out problematic behavior in books, we allow those same behaviors to become normalized in our culture. And that’s why bringing up real-world issues in the context of a fantasy story isn’t just valid—it’s necessary.

The real issue with Rhysand’s SA of Feyre isn’t just that it happened—it’s how the narrative brushes it aside and expects readers to forget it.

While other books address assault and its aftermath, ACOTAR downplays it, framing Rhysand’s actions as necessary or forgivable because of his “good intentions.” This not only minimizes the trauma but teaches readers to excuse abusive behavior if it’s later romanticized.

Even worse, those who remember the assault and call it out are often labeled as “crazy” or “overreacting.” Ignoring or excusing this behavior is harmful, as it gaslights readers into believing the abuse was justified and undermines the experiences of those who see their own real-world struggles reflected in the story.

[blorbologist]

Feeding a Flying City

[Aeor, by Pretty Useful Co.]

This started as a little exercise in my worldbuilding thoughts for some off-hand stuff mentioned in my current fic, but I uh. Got Into It. So enjoy, if you're into two thousand words of nerding out about fantasy economics and agriculture and spells. For the sake of context, this is specifically looking at Exandria's flying cities in the Age of Arcanum, working off D&D 5E's rules as written (so I'm avoiding inventing spells).

When tackling the Age of Arcanum in my fanfic, I knew going in that I wanted to use this space to stretch my worldbuilding muscles and fill in some of the space left by Matthew Mercer and Brennan Lee Mulligan with reasonably plausible meat and bones.

One thing I was excited to squint at was the issue of how the hell flying cites feed their populations. 

The ‘lonely city’ is a common fantasy trope, especially in visual media. Your towering bastion of civilization (or spire of evil) on the open plains, or beside a river, or deep in the mountains certainly makes for a great symbol. A flying city is really the ultimate version of this, completely disconnected from the petty ground below… and the farmland that usually would surround any metropolis. 

See, in medieval times, you only had so much time to transport good until they spoiled. Some could be more forgiving than others - however, given a city often aggregates political and financial elite, there is an expectation that they can get their fresh fruits, and decadent game. Even beyond freshness, if you have a lot of people in one place who are not actively growing their own crops, a lot of more-or-less processed food needs to get into the city daily. And though you could station your acres of farmland just over the hill so they don’t ruin the ~scenic approach~, that will cost more to transport. The fact is, having a lot of people - poor and rich - in one place requires a lot of food, every day, to feed them. And it has to come from somewhere.

(Off-topic note, medieval castles (not necessarily cities) were also there to, y’know, defend the populace. So they had to be both near enough to their peasants to respond to aggression, and near enough for the people to get to the castle for shelter when needed. Which is not relevant to this point.)

Magic, like refrigeration, greenhouses and GMO crops, allows a society to sidestep some of these issues. Which is great! But how the flying cities could use the resources they have to feed their population is half the fun in theorizing. 

To quickly recap what we know to be common to flying cities of the time:

Limited to the city only, usually a location with ground dense with brumestone (i.e., no farmland). 

Their limited ‘undergrounds’ are often fairly dense with more structures (Aeor’s many levels; the labyrinth and tons of administrative locations inside Avalir).

They are nomadic and engage in trade (both with eachother and grounded cities, like Vasselheim).

… but they all likely came from landed roots, and potentially were once perfectly normal cities. 

So. How do you feed your people while flying a path that might take years to travel (ex: Avalir’s 7-year trek), especially between trade stops?

The last surviving flying city is Draconia, which is really fragments of a larger nomadic city that decided to remain fairly sedentary compared to its predecessors. Its answer was probably pretty simple: given that Draconia hovered within Dreemoth Ravine, the tailed dragonborn could just… collect a tithe of crops from the enslaved ravenites. It’s already canon that they were put to work in the mines, so working the land also unfortunately makes sense. It’s unclear how the food then got up to the city (skyships, given they have ready brumestone access?), but given Draconia seems to be an exception to the rules I can (mostly) confidently rule out ‘the Age of Arcanum was built on abusing the grounded cities and towns, potentially requiring an age of magically-enhanced farming to provide for the people above and/or risking the farmers going hungry in favor of the mageocracies’. 

Here’s where magic offers numerous solutions, and just as many weird problems! 

First of all, the stupidly isolated nature of flying cities means that any method of bringing food in has to be extremely structured. Mom and pop can’t just bring the donkey to the farmer’s market to sell their goods in Avalir; to get there you need to fly (more scheduled) or teleport (requires a mage, and limited quantities of goods). So from the getgo a lot of financial control is likely in the cities’ hands. Which… is not all too dissimilar from history, but the lack of flexibility is probably more striking here. Shit, I was hoping to get away from Draconia’s grim worldbuilding.

It also places flying cities in a role very similar to an advancing army, requiring food as they march to be drawn from the surrounding lands. While soldiers can break off and loot towns they pass through, a flying city probably can’t just dock in the middle of farmland, grab all the corn and bolt. So the need for a more organized food transport likely helps protect towns from that exploitation. (Though, with the military posturing of Avalir and Aeor, I could see flying cities strong-arming support from grounded ones in exchange for promised protection/aid if they needed it.)

Of course, when docked at another city (Avalir stayed at Vasselheim for ten days in the weeks before the Calamity), they can fairly easily trade with the surrounding towns there… who are also providing for the existing city. Hosting a flying city must be a huge logistics nightmare, but economically worth the headache. 

(Vasselheim likely has a leg up in that it has both a sitting population of mages, such as Vespin pre-fuckup, and the likes of Clerics, who I’ll get to soonish.)

In EXU: Calamity, skyships (and an offhand mention of something called an ornithopter) already exist, which could facilitate the bulk transport of goods. Based on the speed of the Silver Sun in Campaign 3 (4-5 days to cover ~700 miles translates to a speed of ~5-6.5 knots; for context that seems to be about the middling range for a medieval tradeship), this seems like an excellent way of transporting goods that do not spoil easily. Or use arcane equivalents to the canon Bag of Colding to help keep things fresh longer. However, as noted above, this would require a lot of community organization to get crops together when the skyship shows up for harvest.

The tricky thing is that Avalir, at least, follows leylines as it travels. So if there was intent to line up its passes over farmland with their harvest season - to minimize transport distance - it might be difficult to coordinate. Moreover, with an implied many flying cities, and no clear territorial delimitations between their routes (especially if they’re all following leylines; but Avalir at least made stops in Issylra, Gwessar/Tal’Dorei, and Dorumas/the Shattered Teeth at least), I wonder if there would be economic conflict over which cities could be highest bidder for the freshest crops. Which could be Interesting. 

(I wonder if sky piracy, or sky privateering, was a thing in the Age of Arcanum. Nydas is said to have been a pirate on the actual seas, so aquatic trade is still going strong, but given the flying cities are so reliant on limited methods to get food… you could put a lot of pressure on a rival city by capturing a few key skyships full of the last harvests before winter.)

Another option is teleportation. Avalir, after all, has an entire guild devoted to teleporting people around, so critical to its functioning that part of the Betrayers’ plan was to leave them without leadership when they struck. However, teleportation is very much a creature-oriented form of transportation; perhaps you could bring up a herd of cattle for slaughter, but that’s a pretty damn high spell slot for beef.

Avalir is in a fortuitous situation, in that it has a longstanding relationship with the Gau Drashari; druids, well-known masters of plant and animal life. In theory, this could mean Plant Growth casts to increase harvests… but at this time the Gau Drashari specifically only live in Caithmoira, guarding this holy site. So hopping from one druid-boosted farmland to another is unlikely. 

Well, if transporting food to the cities is such an issue, why not produce food in the cities?

While magical greenhouses must account for some luxury fresh goods for sure, I really don’t think the cities as illustrated have enough real estate to actually support their whole populations like this. Like I noted above, of the two cities we know really well, their insides are already full of labs and labyrinths and all sorts of things probably best kept away from your food supply. 

D&D 5E spells offer another answer, and another piece of potentially complicated worldbuilding: Create Food and Water. Per the spell description, it creates enough food to feed 15 people for 24 hours, which seems to neatly solve all our problems! Until you realize the food is explicitly bland (bet you the mages turn up their noses at it), vanishes if not consumed after 24 hours (so that’s a daily 3rd level spell slot from some poor schmuck), and is mostly limited to Paladins and Clerics. You know, godly people, who are so fondly looked upon by the mageocracies. Artificers, at least, are more in line with the Age of Arcanum attitude - but we don’t see any in Calamity, so it’s unclear if the class ‘exists’ per say in the time period. Reducing powerful Paladins and Clerics to food dispensaries - and not even good food, probably for the lower class - would fit in neatly with how the powers of the divine are seen as lesser. Goodberry falls into a similar role: useful, but probably something mages would avoid.

Speaking of spells, let’s get a little fucked up, hm? Who is to say a mage couldn’t just. Summon some pigs to be served up as bacon tomorrow? Well. Conjure Animals specifically says the animals are actually fey, and vanish when their HP reaches 0. Summon Beasts? Same thing. Find Steed? You guessed it. So magic can help us grow food, and transport it, and preserve it, but not actually make it out of nothing. (If there’s a spell I’m missing that completely solves this, please let me know, but I can’t really find one.)

My final little thought came watching geese migrate some time ago. The passenger pigeon has been extinct for… a hundred and ten years, now. But in its hayday, flocks of the birds would literally cloud the sky. Exandria is home to far more stunning beasts than pigeons, and hunting flying game is likely a lot easier when you yourself are flying too. 

Sure, you can apply this to actual fishing when the cities are over the seas, but! Imagine fishing boats but for birds and all manner of winged beasts in great flocks, netting and catching them to haul in. Maybe the magical equivalent of those helicopter boar hunts to deal with invasive populations, but landing at all introduces a whole lot more hassle. Big net and flying device = fresh meat, with an arcane twist.

So: how do you feed a flying city? Especially one with a lavish lifestyle as seen in Avalir, or a hard research focus as in Aeor?

Have an extremely regimented relationship with the towns on your path (likely in competition with other flying cities using these leylines when you are) or that otherwise have food you need. Make sure skyships arrive in time for the harvests. Miss that and things get dicey. 

Supplement this with trade, both with other flying cities and grounded ones when docked. However, docked time has to be limited to not risk starving out the countryside surrounding the city hosting you.

Small deliveries, especially of fresh livestock, can be accomplished through Porter’s Guild or equivalent.

Magically preserve food thus obtained to survive until your schedule and harvests of X Y z goods next align. 

City-based organizations can ‘fish’ for birds as the city flies (or potentially even actually fish as they fly over the ocean) for fresh meat.

Hope to gods (but without hoping to the gods because they’re schmucks) that you time your pick-ups right, that there are no famines, or early frosts, that no one steals your fucking skyships our outbids you on a key agricultural contract, or casts Dispel Magic and makes your food all spoil.

When the carefully-scheduled management of the city’s resources fails, turn to your diviners or healers and have them feed the masses with bland crackers while the Somnovem or Ring of Gold continue eating honeyed lamb and figs. 

If you read this far, I'm super flattered you shifted through my rambles! I'll gladly discuss any glaring mistakes or things I've overlooked; this is only what I considered in worldbuilding for a fic, and I don't pretend to be an expert on medieval agriculture or economic practices.

This was still very fun to (over)think about <3

(Water, of course, would be a similar limiting factor, but is easy enough to magically purify, and would not be too bland when made by Create Food and Water, so I didn’t bring it up.)

[not-goldy]

Tkk have zero respect for Jk. Today, tkk still lying saying Jikook seperated after 5 weeks or Jk wanted to join Tae, but can't cause of tattoos, even tho he never said any of that & Jimin was a last resort, even tho Jk could've enlisted alone. Mad they didn't get the buddy system for their favs. My question tho, why is it Jk always doing all the sacrificing in their minds? Its Jk wanted to be with his baby, but couldn't. You don't hear them say Tae could've enlisted with Jk instead, if tattoos were an issue tho. Do you? Does this mean Tae doesn't love JK as much as Jk loves Tae, since Tae didn't sacrifice what he wanted to do, to be with Jk? You don't hear them saying poor Jk, when all tae's pictures of him and jennie hit the web or Tae was vacationing with her or walking with her holding her hand in Paris and how Tae spent more time in Paris with Jennie, then he did with Jk on that friend ski trip. Do you? Its always Jk either being the shitty BF emotionally abusing Tae & even physically cause they try to say Jk yanks Tae away from people, etc or its Jk is the reason Taekook is not Taekooking or Its his tattoos, he couldn't go, but he wanted too LIE. Its them saying Tae tried to tell us for months Jk is his lover, but Jk is off doing fanservice with others and hurting Tae instead. The flip flopping narratives & victim complex throw on Tae is disturbing. Its okay for Tae to fuck Jennie for 2 years, hold her hand in Paris, take intimate pics in her bed, take couple selfies with her in his house wearing matching clothes, follow her on IG, lounge in bed with Wooga and kiss on them and go off with them and hang on randoms in paris & say he likes Jimin the most over Jk and move another man into his home who is not Jk. See all of that is okay in their minds and yet they still manage to make Jk the abuser treating tae like shit, cause how dare he enlist with another man, hang out with his 97 line, its all fanservice, he doesn't treat tae right.

They don't know what narrative they want to run with, but they know whatever it is, Tae has to be the main character. They are all tae solos and want him to be the main character no matter what. Even if it means painting him as a helpless abused victim by the most popular idol on one hand & on the other, the one Jk has to make sacrifices for, but never the other way around. Tae can treat JK like garbage, cause its deserved for all his years doing fanservice with Jimin. They really hate Jk and they hate him more now since Chapter 2, cause he didn't play along with what Tae was doing. Plain and simple, but he's the most popular idol and that pairs well with more attention on Tae when it comes to trending, so they keep him around for that. Its not Taekook they like. Its the ship being big that they like and the attention they get from it and the bigger the ship, the more attention for Tae and that is what matters. That's what it always been about it. Funny thing is though, Tae hates these fools and keeps shitting on their fantasies on purpose and they keep letting him. He gives a little, then snatches their fucking scalps for them. Deserved too.

That's an understatement I don't know a single Tuktukkers who likes Jungkook for real

In fact he has no agency no autonomy where they are concerned everything he does is coerced, against his will there's no free choice in their vocabulary

To think some of them are grown adults with this mindset is crazy

Jungkook has been caught sneaking Jimin into his hotel room by hybe hidden cameras and nooooo Jimin is the one to blame for it. Not the guy who sneaks into his room at 1am to lie on his bed doing absolutely nothing

They just can't admit the fact Jungkook IS NOT who and what they think he is nor what they want him to be in their ship realm.

And they HATE him for it too

They hate that man they ship with their favs

[scoobydoodean]

i know it's compelling in fics for cas to feel betrayed about the jack in the ma'lak box decision but its So weird bc its obvious the moment jack breaks out of it hes like. oh man jack might need to be restrained at least until we can figure out a plan. like his first thought before jack breaks out is "this was cruel of them to do" and then hes like. oh fuck jack might be a threat actually.

like castiel is a complicated character hes on jack's side but by the time god suggests killing jack hes done a full 180 on it.

and when people are like "aiming the gun at jack is just as bad as shooting him" im even more confused bc like. dean aimed a gun at emma and didnt shoot her, even with the safety off. dean aimed a gun at SAM while under mind control/anger spell (talking about southern comfort iirc) and didnt shoot him. dean aimed a blade at cas and didnt stab him. like. its fine for cas to be upset at the god gun thing but its so weird when people act as if cas didnt basically admit jack needs to be stopped/bound next episode.

Cas should have been consulted and had a right to be angry that he wasn't included in the decision. At the same time, part of the reason the whole dead mom incident leading up to this happened is that Cas—yet again—kept something from everyone else so he could make unilateral decisions behind all their backs, so I'm not particularly sympathetic to his frustrations with being excluded.

I also just don't think it was cruel at all to put soulless Jack in a box and I think people should get over it. He was killing people and I care more about that than his feelings about being stuck in a box for all of 20 minutes. I simply don't care and it continuously baffles me how big a deal some fans makes out of this when Jack was going around fucking punishing and killing people in horrific ways for not believing in god on Dumah's orders after Cas suggested to her that Jack was in a vulnerable state due to being soulless and could be molded to do others bidding. Anyway like 20 minutes later, Cas went to inquire about putting Jack in The Cage. You know—the room where Sam was trapped for a year with Michael and Lucifer and where as far as Cas knows at that point, Sam was so badly tortured by Michael in addition to Lucifer that it ripped him apart at the seams?

Fandom's take on the entire thing is so devoid of even the most basic level of nuance or even plain simple honesty (to the point one of my mutuals was sent hate mail for months for nothing more than pointing out canonical facts surrounding the incident). It doesn't even surprise me anymore, because this is a fandom that infantilizes Jack to such an extent that it's been passionately argued to me that Jack should be allowed to kill people when he's angry because he has such Big Important Feelings and simultaneously and incongruously—that Dean shooting Jack to keep him from killing the black store clerk Jack was strangling to death in a rage was an act of abuse. Don't even get me started on gun disk horse that exists beyond that regarding the shooting people with guns show.