#so unless that happens in toa it's something fandom made up

[ruegarding]

tyson 🤝 nico

parental figure (poseidon and bianca) pushing them towards percy without saying anything bc they know he will care for them

[greetings-humans]

introductory post (includes some interaction boundaries, more details on me (ao3 acc, etc) & a dni under the cut)

yeah it's about time I made one of those ig (disclaimer: I'll edit this, if/when the need comes)

hello there! im deelay! you can call me dee, if you want! [btw if you know my irl name, not here you don't unless we're DM-ing]

gender is so weird and I'm okay with any and all pronouns (barring it/its)!

for details on what to use when talking to me or about me (like pronouns and gendered terms etc) you can go here

-im a young adult and that's like all imma say age-wise. however please take that into account when interacting with my blog! some of the reblogs/posts here might not be what I'd have been okay with seeing when I was like under 14 or something. so yknow. exercise some modicum of caution please.

-currently in uni, studying to get an english degree (every new thing I learn about teaching makes me want to yell at some of the teachers I've known/had, did they even study in uni? did they even keep in touch with pedagogical studies?? definitely not, form what I can tell)

-I'm technically a writer? like I write,,, supposedly lmao. like all the greats, the one thing I never seem to do is yknow write-

I write sometimes, let's say. and I'm also really interested in writing my own crime fiction novel one day. but that's for some day in the future lmao

-definitely a reader tho (yes ao3 and i are in a committed relationship)

~

-im also very very aroace, so like, blanket disclaimer, even if you might think I'm thirsting over a character, im really not and it makes me uncomfortable when others think so (and tell me that) so yeah lol

my interests and fandoms are. a lot. for example (and in no particular order):

merlin (bbc): im watchin s2 rn(August 2024)! i finally decided to pick this up again and properly watch it! esp since i really wanna read The Once and Future Kings by tjmcharg & And like the cycle of the year, we begin again by katherynefromphilly and i can't do that if i watched the show lmao

the magnus archives: my first podcast! as of September 2024 I've started s4 and all I want is to relisten to really see how much everyone has changed in the span of 4 seasons🥺🥺 mind your spoilers, I don't always tag! and if you're in s1 frankly just persevere until halfway through s1 or s2 at least before interacting, there's a lot of spoilers for the setting going around because the actual explanation doesn't come until quite later even if u kinda figure some things out on your own

DC (the bats, mostly)

windbreaker (satoru nii): im constantly reading the new manga chapters as they come out so beware spoilers! the anime is really cool too<33 talk to me about my children (sakura, tsubakino, umemiya, kaji, hiragi, suo) and all of the other children ofc anytime!

riordanverse (pjo, hoo, magnus chase, a little bit toa, pjo show [which was def better than the movies but needs more screen time to fix up the pacing and add more depth in the appropriate moments])

fullmetal alchemist brotherhood! (i used to have roy on my pfp, he's my favorite character! i also wanna write a huge character analysis essay on him but uni responsibilities mean that's very slow going). im collecting the hardcover editions of the manga slowly, and i plan on reading the manga properly as i buy them!

star wars (prequels, kotor, clone wars)

criminal minds: (im at early s14 as of July 2024, so mind your spoilers humans)

jujutsu kaisen! (I'm just about to finish s2 as of April 2024 but I know what's happening by the end of s2 and I've given up on the storyline so spoil away, I'll just ignore you and live my life in my fanfic sandbox:] )

yuri on ice is an old love of mine (ice adolescence😭😭 one day😭😭 oh one day😭😭 so that was a fucking joke, mappa count your days and also im stealing viktor you can't have him, im gonna write iceado WITHOUT YOU) (well imma write it with a friend but like most importantly WITHOUT MAPPA and I urge all creative yoi fans that think they wanna try doing their own version of iceado to go ahead and give it a go!)

haikyuu!!: I'm all caught up, manga and anime-wise! also patiently waiting for the last (😭) movie that should've been a season but anyways they better not fuck this up too much- (update: battle of the garbage dumpster was wonderful even if they couldn't animate everything... it was just so short)

bungo stray dogs is also an old but semi-revived interest of mine (im pretty much up to date with the manga, just haven't read the light novels)

tian guan ci fu / heaven official's blessing (as of June 2024, I've finished s2 and tgcf is amazing it's wonderful, I've started book 1 and am currently procrastinating on reading it)

there's like. so much more

sooo muuuuch moooreeee

so I'll just let you figure the rest of it out

If you wanna see some of my thoughts without infinite scrolling, you can also search for the tag "deelay words".

Another tag of mine is "deelay's tbr" (which stands for "to be referenced") which you'll find at posts that really make me Think™ and that I want to keep in mind when I do anything creative with the characters involved.

When interacting with my blog, if you want to avoid spoilers at all costs, I suggest blocking the fandom tag because what you consider spoilers might not be what I consider spoilers if we're at different arcs of whatever that media is.

That said, I'd also appreciate it if you gave me a heads up on spoilers in any asks.

~

if you're here for any of my fics then well.

if you're here for pjo, um. those fics are truly discontinued/on indefinite hiatus. that hasn't changed. I watched the show and I'm actually reading pjo fics again from time to time so if I get inspired enough and manage to plan out a decent fic out of Percy Jackson Revealed,,,, then maybe there shall be a fic. But!!! I have no idea what the ending is gonna be, and without an ending I'm doing nothing because the chances of me dropping the fic (again) would be higher than my anxiety during exam season (aka very very high)

if you're here for the man behind neal caffrey tho!! hi, there. I am working on that sequel, don't worry. it's just long (im at like 7k or so iirc? and im not even halfway through yet) and I'm also working on uni and this other writing project I have going on. feel free to send me an ask with any questions or comments or whatever. august 2024 update: this project is very slow going tbh! i think i need to recalibrate some of my plans because it's so tiring to keep writing some of the stuff I've planned for. white collar crime cases are more tedious than expected. im also like on and off working on a double homicide case fic for criminal minds (that I think I'll rework to become an original thing) and it's coming out much more easily😭

unnamed grishaverse project: yeah so, I have a project going with my friend noel @fifteenth-entity, we're fixing the darkling! this fic will take place like around 50-100 years pre-alina, and will feature the darkling doing darkling things while that generation's most prominent grisha (aka a bunch of queers) also do things that may or may not affect the darkling. and his views. and personality. there may or may not be character development in the works. (there is, he gets better). this fic is canon divergent before canon even happens. the entire plot of shadow and bone will be eventually reworked. (also, no darklina, no darkling romance, in general, this boy needs to get mentally healthy first and foremost and I'm also writing him as aroace sooo) [for more info on this just search "unnamed grishaverse project", it's the tag I've used in like the only post about this. do feel free to send me an ask about this tho!!]

ice adolescence-esque fic: mappa fucked up majorly with canceling iceado and im supremely annoyed, mad, and upset. it just so happens that I was in the middle of my yoi renaissance era when the news came out so with my obsession going strong, I really wanted to try doing something with iceado. and then @athenov got roped in a la "be my coach co-conspirator/co-writer, viktor(ia)!". this is not going to be a very linear story, we're going around and about in different points in time. the first narrative follows viktor at 17ish deciding to try to ratify the quad flip and it includes some insight on his friends and family (who are OCs, im not sorry, his backstory is so barren, we had to!) and on how he ended up so alone by the time yoi was happening. the second narrative is post-yoi viktor coming back to russia ft yuuri, yuri & yakov. this is not a russian gov-positive fic. russian culture is very interesting and some russians are wonderful people —diversity is a thing, after all— but to be perfectly clear, fuck the russian government and everyone supporting their actions. what they're doing is inhumane. [posts about this project will be tagged as "dee & athenov's yoi fic"!]

~

Another thing: If you have a genuine, not malicious or mean-spirited, question, feel free to send me an ask. Keep it chill, though! if you try to pick a fight i will delete the ask for the first time, but on strike 2, you're blocked.

i like to think that I'm open to discourse on some topics but not if you're starting out all aggressively cause if you're aggressive, I will be defensive (while privately having a panic attack) and we're not gonna get anywhere. Not that I can't get aggressive sometimes when I'm annoyed/offended or sth, like I'm not perfect but this is a general rule of a thumb yknow. Try not to be aggressive. or prepare for an aggressive conversation if you are.

so. once again for the people in the back

If you're here to pick a fight with me then gtfo please.

I don't like fighting, it makes me anxious, so save us both the trouble and be as civil as you can be if you have a disagreement with me. don't forget to check my dni tho. I'm not gonna sit around having basic arguments about my rights to queerness as an aroace person or some stupid shit like that.

that said, unless I'm literally at your post saying shit you disagree with. don't come at me. literally block me. it's fine. I quite literally do not mind or care. like, if you saw my post or reblog and decided I suck then just block me will you?

~

Moreover, if you ever want fic recs for a fandom I'm in, you're definitely welcome to send me an ask! but if you don't feel like talking, anything I will ever tell you is straight from my ao3 bookmarks. sooo, feel free to hunt around those! [in case the link isn't working for you, my ao3 username is Justice_not_Revenge]

ao3 disclaimer: anything before 2021 is not necessarily something I claim. So like don't think I'm into this thing or that I'm passionate about this ship just because in 2019 I bookmarked 100 fics with it, people tend to grow and change so yeah.

some generic DNIs

if you're anti-lgbtq+ in any way (cmon im queer myself this one should be obvious)

if you support AI art or AIs stealing fic content (if you're the type to use other people's OCs in character.ai with no permission, then like go away and don't you dare touch my OCs without talking to me and getting my explicit permission first)

literally anyone who thinks violating someone's concent is nice and fun and quirky

racists, ableists, sexists/misogynists, incest shippers, pro-shippers, etc

okay that's all! thank youuu-

[archies-litterbox]

Whumptober No. 2: Talking is Overrated

Garotte | choking | gagged

Summary: Zoe wakes up in rather inhospitable custody, as well as in magic-nullifying shackles. She wants nothing more than to make her escape as soon as possible without relying on anyone to find her, but the fatigue and headaches brought on by a certain nullifier cast in the metal of her chains makes that rather difficult. And to make matters worse (or better?), she’s not alone.

Words: 7k

A/N: Welcome to Day 2! This one is a much longer piece than Day 1, but I was actually working on this for like a week before I realized it fit one of the Day 2 prompts, so I figured it worked! (“Garotte” is italicized because although this is written for the theme “gagged”, garottes are mentioned coincidentally). The next piece is gonna be for another fandom, and I won’t get back to ToA until likely Day 4, but for now, I hope you enjoy! Also this may be from Zoe's POV, but be fooled not - Douxie's the one getting whumped the most here. I mean... you know me.

[CW: Kidnapping/Capture, Muzzle, Chains, Swearing, Creepy Whumper (Antagonist acts creepy to Zoe but never lays a hand on her)]

--

It had been, by most conventional standards, not a particularly pleasant afternoon.

It started out fine for Zoe, going about her typical herb-collecting in the woods, but getting a sharp pain in her neck and waking up with cuffs on her wrists pretty much threw a wrench in things. The shackles were generously - as generous as shackles could get, anyway - tethered by a long chain to a stake in the ground, giving her enough length to lay back against a tree. Such was an opportunity she took without hesitation, for something - whether the sedative or some magic nullifier in her shackles - left her feeling drained. 

Drained, but not alone.

No, she woke up with another person in her predicament - another magic user, most likely, judging by the way that shackles were clamped on his wrists the same as hers, linked by a long chain to that same blasted stake in the ground.

But unlike her, he was unconscious. Whatever sedative they used must have been doing more of a number on the boy than it did to her. At least, that’s what she figured while the gangly kid laid knocked out on his side.

She decided not to wake him, instead resolving to try to think of a way out of this. Sure, hedge-witches were well-networked, and one of them was bound to track her down to this literal neck of the woods, if there was one thing Zoe Ashildr loathed, it was being at anyone’s mercy. The sooner she got herself out of here without waiting on anyone, the better.

As they sat around a campfire some meters away, the gang that must have been her and this guy’s captors didn’t even notice she was awake, and she hoped to keep it that way. The longer she wasn’t noticed, the longer she’d be left alone to think.

Well… to try to think, anyway, but it was hard to get any clever escape schemes going with the horrendous pounding behind her eyes.

Besides, her attempts to think through what almost might have been the start of a plan were interrupted by a groan beside her.

“Ooooh, Fuzzbuckets.”

...What was a fuzzbucket?

She’d been looking right at the ground at her feet before, but she shifted her gaze to the stirring boy next to her. Zoe couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Great, now she’d have to keep this kid calm, as if fighting through her brain fog wasn’t difficult enough on it’s own.

He lifted his head and sat up, still too dazed to realize his circumstances yet. But when he did, his big hazel eyes widened at the sight of the shackles on his wrists.

His eyebrows upturned, and he opened his mouth like he was going to scream, but Zoe reached out, almost lunging over to do so, and put a hand over his mouth before he could.

“Mh!” he squeaked behind her palm. His eyes were still widened for another second, but then they glanced down to her hands that were shackled just like his, and when he seemed to realize she was a fellow captive and not his captor, his eyebrows furrowed as if he were confused, if not a little affronted.

“The longer they go,” she whispered, nodding to the still-unawares gang that sat grumbling around their fire, “Without knowing you’re awake, the better. Don’t be loud.”

The boy nodded apprehensively and moved his head back to get away from her hand.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, fortunately lowering his voice.

“Right now…” she crossed her heels over each other, sitting back against the tree, “...sitting. And messing with these stupid shackles.”

He rubbed the side of his head, “How long have I…”

Zoe shrugged, “Beats me. Half an hour, at least - that’s how long it’s been since I woke up, anyway… what were you doing before?”

She wasn’t sure why she asked. His squeaking, even when he spoke quietly, was already worsening her headache.

Well, whatever - the question was out there.

The boy looked down to recollect what happened.

“Well… I was picking herbs. My master sent me out to do it. He’s probably in his study going,” he changed his voice to mimic what sounded like a surly old man, “Hisirdoux, what’s taking so long? They’re easy to spot, even for you!”

Zoe tilted her head, “Hisirdoux, huh?”

He nodded, as if remembering he hadn’t thought to introduce himself yet, “Hisirdoux Casperan! Apprentice to Merlin. But I like going by Douxie. It’s shorter, and people usually don’t sound like they’re scolding me.”

Ugh, great. 

Not only was she chained here, but she was stuck with an apprentice for a wizard synonymous with snuck-up snobbery.

“I was doing the same thing. Looks like that’s how they got the drop on both of us.”

Douxie - it was better, she admitted, and much less pretentious-sounding than Hisirdoux - tilted his head, “Don’t you have a name?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter.” she said.

“Come on, I told you my name.”

“Not like I asked for it.”

Douxie scrunched up his face in an adora-

NO.

Douxie scrunched up his face in a definitely-not-adorable pout.

“Fine, be all secret-y.” He curled his legs up and hugged them close to his chest with his shackled arms.

And that’s what she wanted to do. She didn’t want to say anything beyond what she had to say to Douxie. Not only was she apprehensive - for all she knew, he was some sniveling kid that knew just as much of the struggle of surviving as a magic user outside the sheltered walls of the castle as that privileged Arthurian toolbag did, which couldn’t have been much - but names were risky. If someone knew your name, they knew how to ask around for you. And she tried avoiding that as much as she could. If Douxie wanted to introduce himself, that was him, not her.

There was more she had to worry about besides introductions. Thinking of a plan… getting these cuffs off… not freezing…

She tried to tuck her hands under her underarms as best she could. These shackles drained her energy, and in addition to her magic’s obsoletion and the awful headache, it made her get cold easily in these woods, under the shade.

“...Are you cold?”

She turned her head to Douxie, who looked genuinely concerned. As skeptical as she was, she nodded.

“Not like I can whip up a fire… neither can you, so don’t try it.” she quickly added, holding up a pointer finger, “Draining Dust in the shackles. It’d just hurt.”

His eyebrows upturned, and he took a shaky breath. Merlin must have told him how poisonous it could be if it gets in the system.

“It’s toxic…” he mumbled, “It… it’s poison.”

“It’s not too bad just in the cuffs.” she said, almost to reassure him, “It shouldn’t actually poison you unless it gets in your system. Maybe if they rub against a cut, or something. Don’t worry about it - there’s enough to be scared of right now.”

Douxie nodded, swallowing, looking at her arms before glancing down at his hands.

“If your hands are cold… I could…”

He blushed, hesitation choking him up as he shook his head, leaning back against a tree of his own, next to the one Zoe was using for support.

“Agh, never mind.”

He tapped the back of his head against the bark, squishing his… manbun when he did.

“What do they even want?”

Zoe shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” she said, “For all I know, we could be going off to the highest-paying witchfinder… I just hope they don’t want our magic.”

“Well, they obviously don’t want it right now.” Douxie grumbled, shaking his cuffs. Assuming him to be truly clueless, rather than purposefully obtuse, she shook her head.

“I mean to do their dirty work. Keep the cuffs on until they need a spell or something, make us do it. We end up like vessels.”

Douxie looked down.

“Oh…”

Zoe stared down at her cuffed hands in her lap.

“I don’t think there’d be anything worse.” she huffed, “That’s the thing about everyone who hates magic. They say they want it eradicated, pushed out of their sight, crushed underfoot… until it helps them get what they want. Then they rip it from whoever they want, autonomy be forsaken.”

“And what if that’s…” Douxie asked, obviously worried now that he considered the prospect of being forced to use his magic against his will.

“...I'd rather they just get rid of me.” Zoe said, “Maybe taunt them until they do. No way they're getting my magic… especially not with these on.”

She lifted her shackled hands.

Douxie lolled his head back against his tree again.

“Urgh, it feels like they’re making me sick…” he whined, “I’ve got an awful headache.”

“Me too.” Zoe groaned, “Thought it was just from hearing you all along.”

Something panged her heart when she saw the way the boy’s eyebrows upturned. It wasn’t from the shackles, but something else… remorse.

“Ugh... sorry.” She lolled her head back against the tree for what felt like the fiftieth time this afternoon. “Uncalled for.” The apology felt foreign coming from her throat.

But Douxie only shrugged, “‘Salright. I’m notorious for causing headaches. And spills. And spikes in blood pressure. Merlin says so…”

His eyes widened with hope - faith, even, an odd thing - shining in his eyes.

“Merlin! He’ll find us! He’ll know I’m missing.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. Did he really have that much faith in that Arthurian toolbag?

“Sure.” She huffed. Douxie's eyebrows upturned.

“Come on… don’t you have anyone who'll miss you?”

Zoe lifted her head.

“A lot of people, actually. Hedge witches are pretty well-networked.” she said, immediately wanting to bite her tongue for mentioning what she was.

Douxie looked like he had stars in his eyes, which was… not the reaction she expected. She thought Merlin would have led him to think hedge witches were lesser in comparison to pristine magicians who managed to slither their way into King Arthur’s begrudging tolerance, but Douxie seemed… impressed? In awe?

“A hedge witch?” he asked in admiration, careful to keep his voice down. It caused a flutter in her heart that she wanted to beat down with a stick, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that could’ve come with her being flustered, so she nodded.

“One goes missing, the rest pick up on it. Just a matter of tracking down from there…”

Douxie’s mouth formed an “O” and his eyes widened, like he had an idea (which must have been something of a rarity, if this afternoon was anything to go off of).

“Oooh, like a game!” he said, “It’s just like waiting to see who gets here first! Guess we’d both win though, ‘cause we’d… y’know…” he lifted his hands, “Not have these on anymore…”

...Wow, he was an idiot.

“Yeah, sure. A game.” she said, sardonic, “Whoever’s people show up to save our sorry butts first wins.”

It was quiet for a little while after that. Zoe still kept trying to think up an escape plan, despite the headache that messed with her head, and Douxie had either gotten the hint that she wasn’t too giddy for conversation, or he’d grown too worried of his predicament for words.

Judging by the way he sat curled up, hugging his knees against his chest as he stared down at the grass, it might have been the latter.

Douxie’s head snapped up at a noise - one that made Zoe’s heart spike as she whipped her head forward; the sound of one of their captors heading over to them.

He was one of four of them, the other four still sitting around their fire and blathering on with cantines abound in their hands, and he was quite the nasty specimen. Big, burly, greasy-looking, but pretty typical, as far as most people who would kidnap two teenagers out on errands tended to look. He glowered down at Zoe, not paying the curled up moppet next to her much attention.

“You’re awake.” he said to her.

She leaned back against the tree, unimpressed.

“Took you and your drinking buddies long enough to notice.” she said, “It’s bad enough you chained us here, but seriously, you’re going to keep us waiting?”

Douxie, still curled up and now shaking, glanced between her and the… bandit, she wanted to presume? These kinds of guys were always bandits, or something.

The man scoffed, “Rather confident for a hedge witch.”

Zoe tilted her head, “Mm… nah, we’re all pretty much this cocky. What do you want? I was in the middle of something back there.”

“And I was too! Something very important!” Douxie squawked. Zoe grit her teeth.

This isn’t the time to try to be included!

“What you’re in the middle of now,” the supposed bandit said, “is a trip to a rather high-paying witchfinder.”

Wow, she thought, I hit the nail on the head. Great. Can I hit this guy on the head too, while I’m at it?

(But she couldn’t.)

Zoe huffed, “If he’s sending you around, then he’s not much of a witchfinder, is he? I mean, he didn’t even find me, a witch - you did.”

“So, er…” Douxie started, “He’s more of a… send-weird-bad-guys-to-find-witches...er.”

Zoe looked at him for a beat, confused by how much of an idiot he was. Really, he kept surprising her in this respect.

The bandit turned his head to Douxie, too.

“Actually, me and my boys-”

“My boys and I.” Zoe corrected, earning a growl.

“-weren’t sent out to find a witch.”

Zoe didn’t understand, and by the looks of it, neither did Douxie.

“Nah, the guy said he’d pay a rather high price for the apprentice to, say, Merlin Ambrosius…”

Douxie’s eyebrows upturned as he shrunk into himself. Wait, he’d been demanded? Then… what about Zoe?

The man turned to her, as if to answer her question.

“But when we saw a pretty little hedge witch going about nearby…”

Zoe’s stomach turned. Her magic, however suppressed, instinctively thrummed at her fingertips in an attempt at defense. She didn’t let it show how much it burned.

“...Why not get more out of the deal?”

So… she was the one that was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Zoe almost felt a little insulted, but it was drowned out by anger and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, fear.

“If the “more” that you want is a bunch of hedge-witches after the sorry, ugly mugs of you and your “boys”, then go for it.” she said, keeping her voice cool despite clasping her hands to suppress the magic that would only hurt her, as long as those cuffs were on.

The hunter huffed, “I’d take the chance, I think. Worth the money.”

He knelt down. If Zoe could’ve backed against the tree any further, she would have. She gripped the chains on her shackles, wondering how good of a garotte the chain between them would make.

“I mean, I don’t see why anyone would turn that down…” his voice was lower now, and Zoe hated that. She really, really hated that.

“Maybe because they don’t have deathwishes.” she said, much more shaky than her liking as the man leered at her. “Do you?”

He brought up a hand.

“...Maybe I d-”

“DON’T TOUCH HER!”

It all happened so fast.

The screech next to her that sounded so unlike the quivering moppet from the past hour.

The slinking of chains moving fast against the ground.

The thumping of feet getting up on the grass.

The blur of brown, blue, and black that moved to her right.

The yowl from the hunter.

The last thing to finally catch up to her senses was a shocking sight, even more so than her own electric magic.

It was the fury in those hazel eyes as Douxie’s jaws clamped down hard on the hunter’s hand.

Zoe dove away from the scene, but mostly the hunter, as much as the chains allowed. Getting out of the space between those two and the tree, she got right to her feet. She wanted to shout something, do something, but she was too shocked by the scene for words. Here he was, some boy who she thought was a pretentious whiny little moppet who couldn’t do anything without Merlin’s approval, huffing and almost growling with his teeth locked onto the man’s hand like a dog’s on a piece of meat.

But as daring (and stupid, and possibly a tad feral) Douxie had been, he was light and gangly, and the hunter swinging his arm hard was enough to slam Douxie’s head against the tree, stunning him so his jaw opened so the hunter could pull his hand away.

Zoe hated that sound of skull meeting wood, and it made her wince, but it wasn’t as bad as the cry from Douxie. It seemed that ferocity was dormant now, smacked out of him as he lay slumped against the tree, somehow still conscious.

“What the hell…” she panted, still standing still as the weight of her shackles pulled her arms down, “What did you do?”

But, for once, Douxie didn’t say anything back.

“So, the little stray Merlin took in has a bite, now does he?” He said, kicking Douxie in the side on the emphasized word. The boy whimpered, grimacing with blood on his teeth, and with every ounce of the self-preservation that had been ingrained in her, Zoe fought tooth and nail against the urge to protect him. He was a stranger, just a kid caught up in the same messed-up predicament she was. It didn’t matter if he got himself in more danger than he was already in for her sake; she had no loyalty to him, and even if she did, her loyalty to herself was greater.

“...Well, I have something for that.”

But her stomach still dropped when she heard that.

The other three of the captors had already been running over, and when they got to their leader, he held out his hand. Without a word, one of the lackeys rummaged around in a bag for something that, whatever it was, Zoe desperately - no, why desperately? Why was she desperate for Douxie’s sake? - hoped he wouldn’t find.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, panting, her feet still planted to the ground.

The leader of the hunters, who still towered over Douxie, grabbed a fistfull of hair on the back of his head and yanked his bun loose.

“What you always use for dogs who can’t help but bite.”

The realization hit Zoe like a smack to the face. She started shaking her head, however minute the action was.

A second later, the realization apparently hit Douxie too, judging by the way his eyes widened and his breath quickened.

Both of them darted their eyes to the lackey with the bag, both knowing what he was looking for and hoping to anything they could that he wouldn’t find it.

But a damning “Aha!” from him all-but-confirmed their fear only a second before he pulled it out.

Zoe saw the straps. She saw the metal clasps. She saw -

Oh, no no no-

She saw the piece of metal that all the straps connected to; that was big enough and shaped just right that it could - no, it would cover the lower half of Douxie’s face and curve just under the chin to keep his jaw clamped shut.

A muzzle.

“NO!”

The scream/plea from Zoe sounded foreign to her, but she didn’t care. Laying eyes on that thing made her own, and she tried lunging forward, just like Douxie did for her, but two of the lackeys stopped her before she could take as much as three steps. They held onto her arms, both stopping her from moving forward and making her cuffed hands dig into her abdomen the more she thrashed against their hold, but she didn’t care. Not as her heels dug against the ground, not as the fabric of her dress sleeves chaffed against her sleeves with how tight the hold on her was, and not as magic thrummed under her skin despite the cuffs.

Douxie curled up and shook his head, clamping his hands over his mouth as if to block the muzzle from being put on. But once the leader had the muzzle in one hand, he used the other to yank on the chain for Douxie’s shackles to pull both the boy closer and to and pull his hands away from his face, stomping on the chain to keep it pinned. Douxie’s hands were forced down now, a mere inch or two off the ground, but even though he was practically stuck on his knees, he kept trying, trying, trying to tug himself away.

“No, no, no! Don’t! Please don’t!” Douxie pleaded.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Zoe screamed, louder than him. It probably wasn’t a good idea to scream at the man holding a muzzle, but she didn’t care. Not while she thrashed and tried pushing forward and yanking her way out of the grip of the men on either side of her.

Until a blade to Douxie’s throat made both him and Zoe go still.

Douxie froze, save for the sharp rise and fall of his chest, and Zoe stopped her thrashing in an instant. The one who’d rummaged around and found the muzzle in the first place was the one holding it, and the angered look in the leader’s eyes made the demand clear:

“Stay still and shut up, both of you, or he gets his throat slit.”

Zoe shook with anger, but stayed still on her feet, glowering at the man so she didn’t have to look right at Douxie.

But she could still see him.

Douxie was just as frozen as her, shaking more with fear than Zoe’s fury, until he tried to shy away from the blade on his neck (and inadvertently pressed his head closer to the man with that damn contraption in his hands), minutely shaking his head.

But when the one holding the blade put it closer to his throat, pressing it against the skin with enough force that so much as a mere twitch would cut him, he went limp (as much as his trembling allowed), squeezed his eyes shut, and nodded minutely - a silent resignation, a nonverbal “I won’t move, just don’t hurt me.”

Zoe closed her eyes, too. The sting of tears was overpowering, and she couldn’t… she couldn’t bear to watch.

“He’ll kill you.” she heard Douxie hiss, “Merlin will kill you, he’ll kill-”

A sharp intake of breath and a muffled whimper made Zoe’s stomach twist, especially when no more sound followed but those of tightening straps and the “chk” of a lock.

Zoe never thought a sound could hurt so much to hear.

Fortunately, oh so fortunately, the leader went back to his fire, and the others followed suit.

When the men on either side of her let her go, the first thing she did was fall to the ground. The way she unconsciously tried using her magic despite the nullifier winded her, so she ended up kneeling on the grass, further staining the skirt of her dress as she stared at the unfocused green mess underneath her.

She wanted to think that was the reason, anyway. Definitely not because of what she knew she’d see once she lifted her head.

But when she heard Douxie’s shaky breathing through his nose - the only way he could breathe, she knew - she straightened up and looked at him. How could she not?

For the first time today, Zoe realized that all she wanted to do was cry.

His mouth and some of his cheeks were covered by dark, dark grey metal that spread ear to ear, reaching just up to his nose. It was likely cast with Draining Dust, just like the cuffs on both their wrists that shared it’s hue. Two little straps on either side of his nose met at it’s bridge, with a ring that had another strap coming from it, too - one that stretched all the way down the middle of the top of his head (hence why the leader tugged his bun loose). Two straps, one on either side of Douxie’s jaw, met the end of that strap at the back of Douxie’s head, Zoe reasonably guessed. Just as well, she assumed that locking noise she heard was the lock being put on back there.

But guessing was all she could do about that, because she wasn’t looking there. No, all she could look at was his face - at the eyes of the muzzled boy that stared at her like he didn’t know what to say, even if he could speak.

In those heavy-lidded hazel pockets of quiet desperation, nearly hidden by messy strands of black hair, Zoe saw what she could only describe as the poor man’s despondence - so close to being checked out of all this, but not quite there, not quite lucky enough to lose awareness of the situation.

She got closer, so she sat on her knees right in front of him while he stared at the ground. She felt more at a loss for what to say than Douxie, even though she was the only one out of the two of them that could say anything.

“He… you…” she started, but none of the words felt right.

Douxie’s eyes drew up to hers, as if he just realized she was in front of her.

And his breathing picked up, and his eyes widened, as if, although he knew there was a muzzle on his face, the realization sunk in, like fangs into skin, that there was a fucking muzzle on his face.

Desperately, he brought his hands to his head, yanking at the straps in desperation only made quiet by the very thing making him desperate. After a second or two, he forwent pulling at the leather bindings in favor of pulling at the metal on his face, almost digging his fingers underneath it and starting to scratch his face in the process as he clawed near-hysterically at it, making high-pitched whining noises behind the muzzle. His eyes weren’t heavy-lidded anymore. No, they were like a wild animal’s (a resemblance only furthered by the muzzle), wide with the fact that he needed, needed, needed to get it off.

But he couldn’t. Not like this.

“Wait! Stop!” she grabbed his hands, and pulled them down. “You might cut your face! You’d only make it worse!”

The image popped into her mind of somehow, some-bloody-how, traces of that nullifying powder ending up in his blood, and if he got poisoned on top of all of this…

No, she couldn’t bear to think of it.

Douxie tried pulling his hands back, but however gentle Zoe was, she was firm in keeping them away from his face.

It took a few moments, but eventually, his attempts in vain subsided and his arms relaxed… only to start trembling with the rest of his body.

The whimpers and whines from before were nothing compared to the keening wail he let out as the futility of his struggling let in, made all the more awful by how muffled it was; as his torso lurched forward and his head hung low.

(Now, Zoe got a good look at the lock binding all the straps together, but she didn’t pay it much mind.)

Douxie let go of her hands in favor of balling his own into fists, but she still felt his tears fall on her arms as he started to sniffle.

No, no, not good. If started crying any harder, and his nose stuffed up, he wouldn’t be able to breathe through his nose due to the congestion and… well, obviously he wouldn’t be able to breathe any other way. And the last thing she wanted to count on - even less so than that armored, bearded, weird-metal-head-plated embodiment of pretentiousness caring enough to send help for his errand boy - was these guys being merciful and trading the muzzle for something more breathable, let alone just leaving him ungagged.

No, it was too much of a risk.

“No, no, no, no. Don’t cry. Please.” It only made Douxie sob behind the metal again, the thought of something else being taken, but she explained, “If you cry, you might plug up your nose. You’ll suffocate.”

But that only scared him more, she realized as his eyes widened, his eyebrows upturning as he shook his head again, whining behind the metal that made the sound near-inaudible. She put her hands to either side of Douxie’s face, despite herself, despite the coldness she carried with her like a switchblade.

Douxie put his hands over hers. She tried to ignore the flutter in her heart - anything to help him get grounded.

“I need you to breathe. I need you to take deep breaths for me, and I need you not to cry. Just - just keep that nose of yours cleared up, okay?” She rubbed her thumbs over the little bit of his cheeks still uncovered by cruel, horrendous metal. “Can you do that for me, Douxie?”

Douxie’s eyebrows raised, and he seemed to relax a little with a certain realization - one that made Zoe fight back heat in her cheeks…

That was the first time today she’d called him Douxie.

And it was enough to help calm him down; to help his breathing slow, and to help the tension leave his body, even if it was just a little bit.

His eyes became heavy-lidded again, and however strange it sounds, Zoe thought it was a relief. It meant that he’d calmed down; that he was less of that frenzied, near-wild person from moments before and more of that moppety boy he’d been all this time.

Really, it was hard to believe they were even the same person, and if Zoe hadn’t seen it for herself, she wouldn’t have.

And even now, she still couldn’t wrap her head around the way he clamped down on that man’s hand, biting like a wild animal. It wasn’t his being daringly stupid - or stupidly daring? - that unnerved her, but the way he’d been as such…

How was she supposed to expect that from anyone? Especially Merlin Ambrosius’ sniveling errand boy?

“Why…” she huffed, “Why did you do that?”

Douxie couldn’t rightly answer, but he gestured to their captors again, bringing up a shaky hand to do it. Looks like Zoe would have to fill in the blanks.

“You…”

She sighed.

“You just didn’t want him to hurt me, did you?”

Douxie nodded, his head lolling with each motion because of the weight from the metal across half his face.

“...You know,” she started, “If he got close enough, I would’ve just tried using these chains as a garrote.”

Douxie tilted his head, mumbling something unintelligible in confusion.

“Something you wrap around someone’s neck to choke them out.” she explained and shrugged, “...Probably wouldn’t have worked, anyway.”

Douxie shrugged, noncommittal.

“I didn’t expect that from you, but I guess that goes without saying, huh?”

The look Douxie gave her was almost deadpan - enough to let her know that was the wrong choice of words. Oops.

“Heh, sorry…”

When she realized her hands were still on his face, a realization that made a pink tint come to her own cheeks (the same hue she’d eventually dye her hair, which was still brown now), she started taking them off…

...But Douxie put his hands on hers with a muffled whine.

“M’kay…” she gently rubbed under his eyes again, “Alright…”

She humored him, kept her hands on his cheeks. Not because she pitied him, or felt like she owed him for that stupid way he leaped and bit for her sake, but… he was scared, and if she let it show - if she brought forth even a sliver of the fear she felt today, he wouldn’t hesitate to comfort her, just like he didn’t hesitate when that bandit brought his hand up...

And she couldn’t turn down that sad look of helplessly quiet desperation in his eyes, no matter how much she wanted to.

Zoe sighed.

She wasn’t much for reassurance, but for his sake…

“...We’ll be okay.”

Douxie cast his gaze down, clearly not believing the statement as much as she did (even though earlier, the inverse was true). No, no no no - he couldn’t get discouraged; Zoe couldn’t let him.

“I mean it.” she insisted,  “You’re Merlin’s errand boy, right?”

Douxie mumbled something - a correction, a muffled “apprentice” - behind the metal clamped cruelly over his mouth.

“Then he’ll know you’re missing, and he’ll come for you. And the hedge-witches will come for me. Like a game, remember? Like you said?”

Douxie nodded, a little of the light returning to his eyes, as if he were happy that Zoe remembered what he said so naively earlier.

But despite that light… Zoe could tell that Douxie was exhausted.

“...It makes you more tired, doesn’t it?” she said, and it was obvious what “it” was. Douxie nodded, moving her hands with the motion. Of course it did - again, it didn’t take much to reasonably assume that it was cast with Draining Dust, just like the shackles, and now that more of it was on him, it just made him more miserable… 

Douxie moved his head out of her hands and started to lay down on the ground, but he still looked miserable, curling his arms around himself and curling his legs. And Zoe couldn’t take it. If she had any way of making him more comfortable…

...Well, at the very least, she had an idea.

“Sit up, Douxie,” she said to the boy that lay curled up next to her. Obviously a little confused, he sat up so he sat up and put his heels underneath him.

Zoe stretched her legs out and gauged, just by looking, how well her arms could fit around him. Even with his vest, he was rather skinny, and her arms were long, so she figured it would work. 

“I have an idea. I can try to make it a bit more comfortable.” she held her hands up, “Can I…”

Douxie didn’t look like he knew what she’d try to do, but he nodded all the same.

Her back had been laying up against the tree before, but she sat up a bit to get closer to Douxie - close enough to raise her shackled arms and put them over his head and down so they lay somewhat loose around his torso, like she was hugging him from behind. 

He looked a little confused, but didn’t recoil, so she laid back against the tree and gently pulled Douxie with her, so the back of his head laid against her shoulder, and he could rest it there, against the softness of the cloth that made up her dress.

And that’s what she did. As much as he still didn’t seem to get this (and to be fair, Zoe didn’t get why she was doing this, whatever this was, either) and his arms were somewhat pinned to his sides by the embrace, he still seemed relaxed.

“How’s this?” she asked, “If you don’t like it, I can-”

Douxie brought up his own shackled hands, his arms still sort of pinned to his sides by Zoe's embrace, to hold hers, only nestling further against her.

It was a clear enough answer - one that made Zoe feel relieved that she wouldn’t have to let go of him. She hated that relief, as good as it felt. It meant that if she did have to let him go, if something took him from her arms, it would hurt. And that knowledge - the looming threat of that pain - was dangerous.

But she found that right now, for once today, there was little she could bring herself to hate.

“Oh… ‘kay.” she rubbed one of his fingers with her thumb, “Okay…”

Despite the way one of the straps of Douxie’s muzzle - which she wanted nothing more than to blast right off - dug against her collarbone, the slow, steady breathing against her helped calm her as much as her hold calmed Douxie.

Zoe laid her head back against the tree, feeling fatigue weigh on her own eyelids once again.

“...It’s Zoe, y’know.”

Douxie lifted his head a little and looked up at her, “Mmh?”

Zoe brought her gaze, which lay aimlessly at the sky above the forest, down to the boy in her arms.

“You asked my name before.” she said, “It’s Zoe.”

When he seemed to finally understand what she was referring to, he hummed in contentment and squinted his eyes a little - the closest thing he could convey to a smile.

Zoe tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered, trying to at least keep any traces of it off her face.

Douxie closed his eyes and nestled his head against her again.

...She was just tired. That’s all this was. It was the cuffs, the stress, the circumstances. They were the only reasons she felt her heart warm when he saw that he looked content, despite the shackles on his wrists and godawful contraption clamped on his face; the only causes for her relief that his tears were drying under his closed eyes, his pretty lashes. Certainly, it wasn’t because he’d managed to make himself someone who meant something to her, to bumble his way through her barriers. And most definitely, it was not because she loved-

DAMN IT.

Zoe sighed, as if in defeat, and rested her head atop Douxie’s.

“Let’s just… sleep.”

“Mhm…”

And that’s what they did.

--

Zoe woke up some twenty minutes later, she guessed. It got chillier, and apparently, she’d been asleep long enough for thick clouds to form overhead. She hoped it wouldn’t rain - it was the last thing she needed.

She looked down at Douxie, and of course, he was still asleep. Her arms ached a little - something that would have driven her up a wall before - but she didn’t mind much now. Not while she listened to his slow, quiet breaths as his chest rose and fell in her hold.

Zoe huffed, grateful that the boy's breathing was still clear; she didn't calm him down earlier just for his nose to stuff up now.

She could hear footsteps - hulking, stomping steps - come her way. As her stomach dropped, her gaze picked up. She steeled it when she saw the leader of those damn hunters standing over her, glowering. He was pissed, and over what? Over the fact that she tried to comfort Douxie when he made the child miserable?

Gritting her teeth, she held Douxie a little tighter. Not enough to make him stir. Instinctively, she could feel her hands burn as her magic tried to surge to her fingertips, an unconscious attempt brought forth not of desperation, but of resolve.

Just like Douxie protected her, Zoe would protect him, even if she had to shatter these shackles and set this whole forest alight with a lightning strike to do it.

And when that bastard reached down to Douxie, she feared it would come to that.

...but it didn’t.

With a blast of a green magic poofing out around him like an aura, the man froze. That same green hue of magic surged down both her and Douxie’s chains, and when it reached their cuffs, they snapped right open.

With a sigh she felt like she’d been holding in since she first woke up here, Zoe’s hands relaxed and fell to her side, free of that godawful metal.

Naturally, they also dropped Douxie, who, without that little support, flopped on her lap. Thankfully, his head landed on his side, rather than directly on that lock on the muzzle, which hadn’t been affected by that blast of magic and still remained clamped on his face. The last thing anyone needed was the lock getting damaged to where unlocking it would be impossible.

“Mh!” His eyes snapped open, and his eyes darted around in confusion. Zoe couldn’t blame him. Once he seemed to realize his cuffs were off, he rubbed at his aggravated wrists. Zoe couldn’t blame him for that either.

She looked up at the still… still man in front of her.

“He’s frozen.” she said and leaned to the side to see that the same quick work of immobilization had been done to the rest of the hunters, “They all are.”

Douxie lifted his head, as trying a task it was, and he squinted when he saw the green aura around the hunter and the bright green cracks surging through their old chains like glowing veins, as if inspecting - trying to figure out if this was real. If he could really hope.

But Zoe knew he could.

“Looks like he found you first, didn’t he?” she asked.

And seconds later, she heard new footsteps getting closer this time - armored, urgent footsteps - and she knew that she was right.

“Hisirdoux!” Zoe heard a grouchy old man’s voice call out. Of course, he sounded just like that silly impersonation Douxie did of him earlier.

Speaking of Douxie (which he still couldn’t do at all yet), the boy sat up as fast as he could. Swaying with the extra weight on his head, he got up so he was sitting on his knees, and he whined in an odd mix of desperation and relief behind the metal over his mouth, as if - after the horrible, awful afternoon this had been - Merlin Ambrosius could not get over to him fast enough.

“Heh…” Zoe huffed to herself, rubbing her own wrists. Really, she thought her fellow hedge-witches would track her down in these woods way faster than anyone from that ever-pristine castle, but that didn’t matter. A rescue was a rescue.

“Looks like you won.”

[arcadialedger]

Please note that I am most likely leaving this platform. I am done being abused. But first? We need to have a discussion. A discussion about hate and bullying in fandom.

All online-- I encourage you to read my story below. Reblog and spread awareness. The Dragon Prince fandom especially -- I implore you read my words, every single one of them. The short of it is that I am done. 

This all began with losing and being blocked by a friend because I shared something they disagreed with. I don’t care what you feel about my initial reaction to this (which I’ll explain below) -- I’ve apologized for not handling the situation correctly. But I will not be shamed for speaking my mind and standing up for myself.

Because no human being deserves to go through what I have endured since last summer.

Following the “callout” post made about me by one of, if not the largest blogs in this fandom, I received hundreds of threats, harassment messages, and death threats. Messages and posts telling me to kill myself were also prominent, on a multiple times a week basis for awhile.

Messages from people who were well aware I have struggled with being suicidal. Due to one of their favorite Dragon Prince blogs speaking out against me, they thought it was okay to suicide bait me.

And it worked. I already struggle with hating myself, am already insecure, and being flooded with these comments which, while I made mistakes, did nothing to deserve, drove me to try and take my own life after years of progress in my mental health.  

Mind you, this is like a 200 follower to 4k follower power dynamic. Which yes, plays a role-- because when you have a large following and influence, you have power. Yet the person behind this had the gall to claim Tumblr clout isn’t real.

People blocking and condemning others instantly at your word? Is power. If people read your words and are influenced, or have their minds changed, or buy or don’t buy something, etc.-- you are an influencer. You have power. And when you’re one of the largest blogs in a fandom, you have a LOT of power.

So take responsibility. 

I was hurt because I lost a friend who I had chatted with for months, did a podcast with, and was generally not only one of my favorite blogs but the center of my experience in the Dragon Prince. I may not have been perfect in my words, but when I was asked why I was quiet/ inactive, I explained how I was hurting, anonymously. I was understandably in pain and upset. I had been cut off for just having a different opinion on a matter, for thinking differently. Even though it was within their rights to block and do so, it felt wrong and it weighed on me.

Is that such a crime?

The callout post and previously described abuse followed, lasting for months until later in the year (this began in June, or around then). It also included screenshots of tweets, when this user does not have Tumblr, and they have stated to have screenshots stored up on their computer of my various posts and interactions. This is creepy behavior, and freaked me out. I felt like I was being stalked, “evidence” being filed away for the very purpose of being used against me. 

I eventually talked things out with the blog per recommendation of my therapist, and thought all would be fine. For a little while, it was. I largely stayed off of Tumblr to heal. Once in awhile I would have a rough, tearful night because something reminded me of what I lost, but I would make it through. Overall, I was making progress.

Then? My Twitter got hacked by one of the people sending me hate. For what had turned out to be much. And after they tweeted some purposefully incriminating and bigoted things to make me look bad, I came home from a weekend in the mountains to a shitstorm.

Twitter has a love hate relationship for me and I barely opened the app unless actively chatting with a friend. So when I saw 700+ notifications, I was surprised. It had never happened before.

I began to scroll through, and when I saw what had happened, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

I had lost over half of my followers and a solid 60% of previous Twitter mutuals had blocked me. But worst of all, I had hundreds of hate tweets directed at me replying to the hackers tweets. Messages had been sent in DMs and accounts blocked, followed, and unfollowed as well.

If you have never felt that loss of agency-- that sickening feeling of words you never said next to your profile-- be glad. Because it is traumatic. I value my words. I value what I have to say. And having that taken from me was worse than anything I had been through here on Tumblr, outside of the suicide baiting (the most direct attack to me and my emotions/ insecurities throughout this entire ordeal). Further, this hacker had clearly stalked my tweets based on some of their comments. 

Hundreds of tweets bashing me, calling me aphobic slurs (knowing I am asexual mind you, as it was in my bio), making fun of my appearance and targeting all of the insecurities which lead to my first suicide attempt in high school, and taking/ editing images of my face and mocking them. This all culminated in a doxing threat-- a doxing threat which made me feel unsafe on a campus I had already been sexually assaulted on. I was once again, after starting the healing process, thrusted back into the darkest time of my life and spiraled into anxiety and depression. I cried a lot overwhelmed by it all, had difficulty sleeping, and felt sick. I started fall semester and couldn’t concentrate on school. I was a mess.

I had once again been condemned, this time for something I had no part in. I tried to example what happened but nobody listened. I had been hung without trial. People were understandably confused, and my entire reputation on the platform, and my page, became a mess of lies, misunderstandings, and more.

If you don’t know the feeling of already hating yourself and being insecure, and having these beliefs reinforced and spread by hundreds publicly across the internet? Of already feeling lonely and unwanted and having the one space you thought you had taken from you? Consider yourself lucky. 

I had a lot of voice actors and creators following me-- accounts I interacted and greatly cherished my mutual with. A handful of them unfollowed, understandably. This online hate mob was sending messages to people demanding they unfollow me, including some of these creators. They had no idea what to make of this mess or what was real and true and just didn’t want to deal with it. Most of the others just stopped interacting with me. @aaronwaltke (tagging so those who don’t follow already click and do so, because he is absolutely fantastic-- he’s a writer for ToA)  who had followed me on the platform, graciously wished me peace with the entire situation after I checked to make sure he had not been subjected to messages or hate, either from my hacker or other accounts. His was the greatest compassion I got on Twitter, before I ultimately ended up just having to delete.

I lost podcast deals because of this with Adrian Petriw, Aaron Ehasz, and Justin Richmond. I do not blame them one bit and would have done the same in the confusion not wanting to get dragged into anything. 

Only to have one of the friends I lost who helped start this interview these very people on their own podcasts. A slap in the face. A zine I had bought to support them came to my door, with the front page proclaiming to “spread a narrative of love.”

I was never granted that chance. That compassion. I had the vultures sent after me with no mercy. And anyone who has been through online abuse and systemic harassment knows just how much it feels like they’re slowly but surely picking at your flesh ( a metaphor I used in one of my old, since deleted posts discussing the situation, and still find accurate), wearing you down until you have no strength left.

Make no mistake, my story is not a one off situation. Many share the same tale of abuse and being driven off of platforms that once gave them great joy. These attacks are coordinated, systemic, and common hobby for these people-- who largely claim to be loving and accepting of all. They are a cyberbullying phenomenon which has risen with the presence of fandom on the internet. And I want to make clear, with current discussions of “cancel culture”, I mean nothing political in that statement. Some might call my experience cancel culture, but I don’t.

It’s just bullying. It’s just hate. These people get off on ruining people’s lives.

And my life was greatly set back and ruined. I had a stain on my past in fandom I could never be rid of. I had to shut down my podcast, took time off of all social media, and most of what I had built, most of my growth, was taken from me while those who incited and/ or spread hate thrived and continued to grow and find success. That was the greatest sting of all. 

I asked the one previous friend who hadn’t blocked me, but had just stopped interacting with me (which I understood and respected, and also greatly respected her perspective, help, and support though this situation in which she largely unfortunately ended up in the middle) for help after explaining everything, and got nothing. They didn’t seem to care, and just blocked me on all platforms. Once in awhile, I would find I was cut off from yet another old friend, or a blog that I had never interacted with before but clicked into, interested. It hurt being cut off, unable to fully interact with the fandom, but I could move on.

That pain would never go away, but I made clear I did not blame them for the actions of those who abused, harassed, and threatened me. I also made it clear they did not owe me anything, including unblocking. 

I just wanted to move on peacefully, but those with the power to enable that did not wish to help. I slowly, when I felt ready, began to be more active on Tumblr again, and once again the hate started up. 

Sometimes when I was hurting, I expressed my pain and loss to my followers just to reach out, because I was sad. I had no idea how to rebuild from all that had happened. This got me more hate an accusations of emotional manipulation and gaslighting. I had no idea what to do, and got trapped in a cycle of needing to talk about it, and getting hate and backlash, but not knowing where else I could turn. 

My doxer came back into my asks, ultimately making me switch schools, and refueled the drama. Speaking up about this got me more backlash-- mostly accounts reblogging (one with tags saying “fuck you”, despite not knowing the full story, and commenting and then blocking me so I could do nothing to respond or get it off of my page. I deleted all posts of the matter, as requested by these people (who validly pointed out they were in the main fandom tags, which I hadn’t thought of and understood), and hoped to move on.

But it hasn’t stopped. I have been beaten down and emotionally bruised for months. I have had my life and safety threatened, my education and by extension life path altered, and lost work (podcast) opportunities due to this-- alongside the irreversible emotional damage from trauma and abuse. My mental health issues and insecurities-- which I have been very open about to destigmatize the subjects and encourage conversation-- were actively targeted to inflict the most pain possible. 

And I can’t even talk about it, without enduring more hate and accusations of “playing the victim”.

Death threats, suicide baiting, doxing, months of bullying and harassment to the most vile degree, which a lot of these people don’t know about because they don’t even bother to read my words. Yet I’m playing the victim. 

And the accusations of bigotry and being hateful hurt, because it couldn’t be further from what is in my heart. I believing in love and acceptance of all. I don’t know how many are religious here, but I found God after my first suicide attempt and that is what his word has taught me. 

I’ve been through too much in life to tolerate this, for lack of a more eloquent term, bullshit. I know what abuse and victim blaming looks like when I see it. And in my 20 years of life, I have gone through too much: constant ridicule and bullying, suicide attempts, sexual assault, major spinal surgery, to just be stomped over and not stand up for my right to basis human decency. 

I refuse to put up with this, so unless I get an apology and some semblance of justice for everything I have been through, I am leaving. I will not participate in a space run by hate and toxicity. I will never claim to be perfect, and I have apologized for my mistakes and wrongdoings. Now, hold those who did this accountable. If you’re reading this you know very well who it was, and I am not naming them for those who don’t. Because at the end of the day I still send nothing but love and wish no ill will towards them.

But I’ll be damned if I don’t expect accountability of one of the greatest influencers in the fandom for their complacency in abuse, threats, suicide baiting, and and absolute ruining of my life and online experience. They enabled this and were well aware they had the power to stop it-- to ask their followers to stop-- and did nothing. They didn’t care-- about a human’s life and well being. 

@dragonprinceofficial, are you aware that this is what many of the fans of your show, which preaches love and an end to the cycle of vengeance, do to others? That this is happening in your space? If you stand at all by the values you preach, condemn it. @staffTumblr/ @supportTumblr-- shame on you for allowing this abuse to happen and ignoring my reports. Shame on you for permitting these people to operate in your platform and for being okay with hosting hate. People have been driven to suicide on your website-- I am one of the lucky ones. 

If you care at all about humanity and stand against this behavior, reblog and spread awareness. Share my story so I may not happen to anyone else. Tag @dragonprinceofficial until they notice and speak out. 

This is my story, and so many others. Make sure it doesn’t happen ever again. No human being deserves to be treated how I was. Everyone deserves compassion, decency, and respect. And everyone deserves a place in fandom. Do better. If you want to reach out to me DMs are open, as well as my email, which is attached to my account. Until this change happens and I am given the support/ help needed to safely function on this platform, this blog will not be active outside of that. 

Thank you all of the many accounts who have supported me, and I am working on getting back to all who have reached out! Your love means the world. You know who you are, and I don’t want to tag in case people come after you for showing me kindness. I am sorry if this is goodbye, to all that have enjoyed my blog. I enjoyed it for a long time  too. I loved sharing my passion for stories, culture, having a space where I could analyze and discuss my favorite things.  I loved getting to share what I had to offer with the world, having fun and posting jokes with my unique sense of humor. I loved interacting with intelligent people/ fellow fans and discussing my favorite stories, offering each other new insights and growing together. I loved the many, many kind and wonderful people who reached out to me in a variety of ways and provided support and friendship.

In the end, it just isn’t worth all of this pain and trauma, and I know when to put my foot down. I don’t want pity, I don’t want apologizes, and I’m not a martyr. I just want my story to make a difference-- to spur positive change in fandom culture/ spaces.  I will be tagging all fandoms in which I have seen this kind of abuse present as well, to reach as many as possible. 

Be safe, and be kind.

- The Arcadia Ledger/ Ryn/ Katie, signing off.

[alternatewarning]

Freckles Aligned Like Stars - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry Number 12 and 29 for Whumptober 2020: Broken Bones and Emergency Room

Title: Freckles Aligned Like Stars Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: Noctis/Prompto Rating: T Triggers: Suicide, Suicide Pact, Overdose, Implied Homophobia Summary: After Noctis asks his father for permission to date his best friend and is denied, he feels like his entire world is falling apart. He doesn't want to live In a world where he's denied the one thing he wants to be happy.

Cross posed to Ao3

“Woah~  We’re crazy high up.  I feel like you can see the whole city from here!”  Prompto leaned over the stone banister of the Citadel, taking in the sights below.  He and Noct weren’t at the very top, but close to it, out in an empty courtyard.  Noctis sat on the stone wall as the blond leaned on it, both of them looking out over the city as the sun started to sink in the horizon.  They were high enough up that people looked like little moving dots that faded into the grey of the streets below.

“Does your dad know I’m here with you?”

“No.  He would say it wasn’t allowed.”  Noctis answered with a huff, kicking his legs.  Looking down the world seemed to stretch out before them, forever.  Like if you fell off the edge you would be falling for an eternity.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”  The prince continued as he patted the stone next to him and Prompto jumped up to join him.  He sat down with his legs over the edge as well, slowly kicking them back and forth.  There was nothing holding them back from falling over the edge other than their own balance.  At least the wall they were sitting on was thick, sturdy enough for a seat.  Noctis held out his hand shyly and Prompto took it and, for a time, they sat in silence.  Just two high school boys holding hands, kicking their legs, watching the languid sunset.

“My dad won’t...because I have to be king and…he said that…”  Noctis started and stopped a few times, blue eyes boring holes in his sneakers.  His friend squeezed his hand, offering support.

“You asked him if we could date, right?  And he said no.”  As a commoner, he basically expected that answer.  Noctis was supposed to be a king, the king.  He was just a nobody.  The blond scooted a little closer until their thighs were touching, never letting go of their intertwined fingers.

“It’s okay.  No matter what happens or who you have to marry or even if we never see each other again, I’ll always love you, Noct~”  Prompto smiled, his expression soft.  Noctis expected him to cry or look like he was in pain.  But instead, it seemed like he expected this from the start.  His smile, however, held enough sadness that the prince felt his own heart starting to overflow.  They had been unofficially dating for a few weeks now.  It was just small stuff at first, spending more time together, trying to be alone.  But then Noctis wanted more.

They could probably still go back to hanging out like they did before but he was sure that his father would pass down an order for Ignis not to leave them alone.  He was actually impressed that he’d managed to ditch his advisor/lifelong babysitter tonight.  Maybe Ignis knew they wanted some privacy.

“I’m going to ask you something crazy, okay Prom?  But I want you to answer completely honestly.  It’s okay, no matter what you say.”  Their eyes met for a long, silent moment.  Noctis knew that the words that would come out of his mouth would change something.  He didn’t know if it would be good or bad, but he knew that they couldn’t go back to the life they were leaving behind, just on the other side of the ledge.

“I don’t want to live without you.  I don’t want to marry a woman I don’t love just so that we can have children.  Then they’ll have to live this sucky life I already hate.  I want to just be a normal guy.  So...would you die with me?  Here?  While we still can?”  Noctis squeezed their hands as he watched a few different emotions flitter across Prompto’s face.  He recognized confusion followed by shock and then something altogether different.  The sunset was making his blond hair look like a shimmering gold and his freckles were stars across his face.  The prince just wanted to stare at them all day, drawing lines to make constellations known only to the two of them.

His friend opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again as if searching for the perfect words.  Noctis wanted to take it all back but it was too late.  The words, the implications, settled between them like an invisible noose.

“Ya.  I mean, yes, yes I will.  It won’t be scary because we’ll be together.”  Somehow even in the fading sunset and agreeing toa mutual suicide, Prompto was sunshine in human form.  His blue eyes were crinkled as he smiled, kicking his legs like a lovesick child.  They sat together for a little bit longer, enjoying the chill of the evening wind and watching the lights of Insomnia blink on one by one.

And then, without words or plans, Noctis stood up.  Prompto quickly followed, squeezing the hand in his.  A feeling settled between them, a contentment.  The blond swung their held hands, his smile finally fading into a soft, contemplative expression.

“No matter what, I love you, Noct.”

“I love you too, Prom.”  They nodded, each in turn, slowly letting their combined hands fall.  Once both of them had gotten ready, heels on the edge of the wall, holding hands once again, Noctis counted down.  On one both of them leaned back into gravity, closing their eyes as they fell.

Both boys focused only on the hand they were holding, letting the wind whip past them.  It was supposed to be fast, a quiet, sudden drop, and then nothing.  Prompto expected to feel nothing, or maybe pain followed by nothing.  Instead, he felt the hard smack of tree branches as his friend’s hand was wrenched from his grasp.

“Noct!”  Prompto had half landed in a tree that was winding out from a balcony and up the side of the Citadel, chasing the sun.  The branches broke from his sudden weight but they dropped him on the balcony instead of letting him crash all the way to the ground.

“Noct!”  He was in pain and disoriented, and his arm felt very distinctly broken, but he ran to the edge of the balcony.  Far below he could see his friend, his boyfriend, his lover.  Noct had hit the bottom alone.  They had intended to land on the pavement but their impromptu swan dive of death had been nothing but failure.  Prompto was very much alive and Noct had landed on a car instead of the ground.  The car had crumpled from his body but at least it looked like he died in peace.  Even if he died alone.

_______________________

Prompto ran as fast as he could downstairs, hoping to arrive at Noct’s body before anyone else.  But he was too late, having gotten lost in the maze of Citadel corridors.  Ambulances had already arrived and there were red and blue lights everywhere.  People were crying from outside the line of police officers and other emergency vehicles.  They were mourning their prince.  When he pushed into the crowd, one of the EMTs saw his broken arm and pulled him aside, sitting him in the back of one of the ambulances.  His blue eyes watched his boyfriend be taken away on a gurney.  Apparently, he was still alive but completely unresponsive.  The blond felt nothing but guilt, everything had gone so wrong.  The king was here, climbing in behind his son.  He didn’t spare a glance back for the blond sitting alone in the second ambulance.  There was no reason for him too.

Prompto watched the scene, letting the blue and red lights bounce across his eyes.  The car that Noct had landed on looked absolutely crushed, the windshield was shattered and the top was bent in and twisted.  But apparently, the ‘give’ had saved his life.  Ignis was talking to a police officer, he looked rattled.  Anyone would be, no one would understand why a prince with everything to live for would throw himself off a building.  Not unless they knew.

Noctis was in surgery for hours.  Even though he hadn’t died he was apparently a mess.  Crowds flocked to the emergency room for a hint of news.  The rumors had already started.  Was it suicide?  Why had he done it?  Was he pushed?  Would he be okay?  No one noticed the blond who had been admitted only a few minutes later.  His arm had been sprinted for now and then he was released, there was no reason to keep him here.  If anyone realized that they’d jumped together they hadn’t said it.

Prompto waited in the hallway until he heard the news.  Noctis was out of surgery but he was still in a coma.  The general public had been cleared out of the whole floor, it was just the king and his retainers as well as Ignis and Gladio.  Prompto wasn’t sure if he slipped in because no one was paying attention or if he was allowed to be here, but no one made him leave.  Everything was talking, hushed, as if a loud noise would break the tension.  There were so many questions, so many worries.  Everyone wanted to know why, what happened.  Would he be okay?

Prompto watched everyone from his rather uncomfortable waiting room chair.  Ignis was stoic as always but he looked pale.  He didn’t know the guy that well but considering his job seemed to be to babysit Noctis at all hours of the day he probably blamed himself.  The blond wanted to tell him it wasn’t, that they chose to jump, but he also felt like an outsider, looking in through a pane of glass.  Gladio was pacing back and forth, his face angry.  He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would understand.  He was too forward, too blunt.  He never let other people tell him how he had to live.  The king, he just looked completely lost.

It took another few hours for the chaos to calm down.  Regis had sent Ignis and Gladio home a while ago, the fact that he was the king probably being the only reason they relented.  As time wore on others left as well until the hallway outside the room was just Regis, Gladio’s dad, and Prompto.  The boy was sitting far enough down the hallway from the others that he was sure he had just been forgotten.  But he waited.  He had too.  As they had all been talking about ‘what now’, an idea had formed in Prompto’s head.  Noctis didn’t want to live like this, to live as a chosen prince.  He’d wanted to die with the boy he loved and Prompto was going to make that dream a reality.

Eventually, the king seemed to fall asleep, the stress and worry eating him up.  Prompto felt a little guilty for that but he needed to push those thoughts aside.  No one was watching him, nor Noctis’s room.  They were supposed to leave him alone for right now but the blond was good at getting in places he wasn’t supposed to.  Once he was in the hospital room his stomach flipped and knotted in his chest.  Noctis looked horrible.  Nearly his entire body was in some sort of cast and there were monitors everywhere.  His skin was so pale that he blended in with the white sheets over his body.

“Noct…?  It’s me, it’s Prom.  I’m sorry I...I messed it up.  But I’ll make it up to you.  Look what I snagged.”  Slowly he approached the bed, speaking softly as if he would wake the sleeping prince.  He held two small vials and a syringe in his hand, having pilfered them from nurses quite a few hours ago.  He felt sick looking over his lover.  It was as if every bone in his body had been shattered, nothing left of his beautiful prince.

“I’m not an expert at this but this is supposed to be painless, right?  You’ll be a real sleeping beauty.”  Eventually, he reached the bed and he sat down, setting the syringe by his side.  “These are real strong painkillers.  So...ya.  I guess this is it.”  He pulled the clear cap off of the syringe before climbing into the bed.  There wasn’t much room around the prince’s body, held still with metal rods and machines.  But he got as close as he could and filled the syringe with the clear liquid.

“Goodnight, Noct.  I love you.”  Since there was already an IV going to the other’s arm, he pushed the needle into the plastic tube and then depressed the plunger.  He knew that people would panic and run once the machines started to beep so he was on a timeline.  Prompto took the second bottle and filled the syringe again.  He had always hated needles but now wasn’t the time to be squeamish.  Holding the syringe in his right hand he turned his left arm over so he could see his veins.

“Goodnight…my prince”  The blond pressed a small kiss on his lover’s face before plunging the needle under his skin and pressing down.  He let his body go limp against the prince, a smile ghosting his lips.