#being a much more neutral one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr was attacked by a cross-site scripting worm deployed by the Internet troll group GNAA on Dec 3, 2012.

#being a much more neutral one

twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

Text

how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy.

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work.

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into.

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears.

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere.

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever.

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company.

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone.

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true.

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house.

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight.

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying.

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect.

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue.

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now.

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes.

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is.

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth.

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl.

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.”

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time.

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?”

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable.

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own.

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little.

his knight. his favourite knight.

“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate.

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.

his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting.

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still.

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air.

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller.

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.”

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby.

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.”

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.”

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand.

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip.

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years.

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.

”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then;

“i’d do it, you know.”

a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows.

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.

enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze.

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?”

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse.

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light.

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else.

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear.

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

#u both catch a cold the next day <33 #anyway i am normal about the devotion of a loyal knight paired w the devotion of a man who’s only ever loved one single person in his life #shoutout to knight x royalty dynamics for inventing romance #i wanted to get a good balance on prince!gojo’s twisted side and soft side so i hope i did ok!! :’3 #hes a kind man at heart he rly is but i think being born at the peak of the class pyramid does smth to a person lmao #i didn't touch on it in the fic but he would have turned out a lotttt more twisted if he hadnt met reader as a child …#what if i was ur knight..;;; and u were my prince….;;;;; and we changed the trajectory of each other’s lives 😳😳 👉👈#mickey if u see this!!! tysm for letting me write abt this concept i had so much fun!!! this fic is for u <33 #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen

893 notes · View notes

elevensbian · 2 years

Text

thinking about what vastra said about the 11 to 12 regeneration being 'stripping away the veil'... i really do think 12 is very fundimentally The Doctor Unfiltered like he's a grumpy old man who is very tired and has a bit of a superiority complex and does morally questionable things but has a lot of love (possibly too much) for the right people. which is kind of how 10 is under his 'i'm just a quirky little dude' persona and how 11 is under his childish silly persona and how 13 is under her endearing erratic rambly persona (9 i think is kind of different bc imo his cover up is being purposely abrasive and difficult but my point still stands bc i don't think 12 is doing that either)?? and i think his arc mirroring 1's is kinda linked too with the whole softening over time thing he has going on? like he's stripping away the veil by becoming like the first version of himself

#also thinking ab how this life cycle so far has been 'grumpy old man' > 'silly little guy (gender neutral)' like the og one #not sure how much like 3 i can see 14 being but maybe they'll throw in some flamboyant homoerotic science stuff #then my theory would still stand also i need more flamboyant homoerotic science stuff in my life #also i can put a lot of classic drs in the covering things up category but i cba to type it all out #doctor who #twelfth doctor

685 notes · View notes

allthoseotherworlds · 4 months

Text

It's honestly pretty frustrating sometimes how I feel like so many people say they love Martha, but mostly what I actually see people saying about Martha is how much she probably does/should hate the Doctor for not returning her crush, or sometimes how much people hate Blink/Family of Blood/Last of the Time Lords because they were hard for her.

And like, the former of those is frustrating because a) Nobody is obligated to return someone's romantic feelings, b) Being oblivious to someone having a crush on you might suck for the other person but is not actually a moral failing and c) Martha was sad about it but like. She didn't leave because she was furious at the Doctor for not returning her crush? She left because she knew her crush wasn't reciprocated and wasn't going to be, but couldn't get over it on her end while travelling with the Doctor. And also because the past year had been pretty traumatizing for everyone, including her and also the Doctor and also everyone else who was on that ship thing.

Anyways

I just wanted to talk for a bit about the things I like about Martha, or that are interesting, that are unrelated to those points above.

I think she's the first companion in New Who to join Unit, and I think still the only one to be a medical doctor with a strong scientific backing. Which is cool!

I think it's interesting that in the first episode she appears in, her family is shown to be kind of messy and kind of frustrating, and it feels like that's something she's a little glad to be getting away from for a bit when she travels with the Doctor (though it's not the reason she travels with them). And then, at the end of the season when her family is in danger she prioritizes their wellbeing enough to snap at the Doctor about it. If I remember correctly their phones were tapped or something and it wound up making things a bit worse, but I appreciate the nuances of her relationship with them and how important they are to her despite the messiness.

Despite all the ado made about her crush on the Doctor, I really loved how she really seemed to get the point of travelling with the Doctor. I think that she nailed both the joy and excitement of the unknown, and the compassion and sense of care that motivates the Doctor's travels, and which I think is vital to all of my favourite companions.

It also contrasts in interesting ways with how her personality shifts after she stops travelling with the Doctor - she still cares about people's wellbeing and seems to value the things she learned while travelling, but working with Unit and Torchwood does make her more military, and then of course doing freelance alien fighting (? or something?) in the End of Time.

I think Martha and the Doctor are an interesting duo because they contrast each other in interesting ways. They're both compassionate, hopeful but practical, and good at what they do, but they reflect those qualities in ways that almost, but don't quite, fit together nicely. They don't conflict, really, but they're not quite sustainable either.

They work well together and care about each other, but they're too similar in some ways and too different in others to ever quite see eye to eye, which is why they end up going in different directions. And I think that's not anyone's fault, or indicative of any deep flaws in either of them. Or even really a tragedy, because Martha seems to be doing new and interesting things every time we see her, with plenty of options available and a decent rapport with the Doctor whenever they show up.

Anyway this got way longer than I meant it to. Tldr: There are so many more interesting things to say about Martha than just "She must hate the Doctor". Here are some of them.

#Also I didn't have room here but. I understand hating the family of blood stuff but. John Smith is not the Doctor. That's the whole point #John Smith is absolutely rude to Martha and I dislike him as a person. But he is also not the Doctor #And I absolutely do not believe that the Doctor handpicked the persona and went “Yeah. Making him rude and racist and like guns”#I think they just got out the chameleon arch and said #“Here's the time and location that gives us the best shot at avoiding the family of blood. Give me and Martha random identities. Thanks”#That said it's actually not an episode I particularly like so I don't know why I'm rambling about it here #I get anxious about things where characters are Not Themselves and being rude and mean in ways they aren't #And also found the ending a little Too Much personally #Anyways I'm just monologuing now #Doctor Who #Doctor Who Meta #Martha Jones #I am talking #I am just some guy (gender neutral)#This post brought to you by another person joking about how Martha is so strong for putting up with the Doctor because of the crush stuff #And me as an aromantic not enjoying the implication that I am something to put up with and that the most interesting thing anyone can say #about a dynamic between two people is how much it sucks that one of them didn't know the other had a crush and 'led them on'#or whatever. But just ranting about that again didn't feel constructive so I tried to say more interesting things instead

23 notes · View notes

transingthoseformers · 5 months

Note

unpopular opinion: I want tfe ratchet to be based off tfa ratchet not tfp

I like tfas design and personality better ok

Considering what I've seen, and how Ratchet was (I think?) in the little g1 comic blurb in the first or second episode, that his design is gonna be primarily based on his g1 one, perhaps somewhat off of his IDW design (me saying I'm pretty sure he's getting the gray chevron), and his personality is probably gonna be closer to his IDW one in my opinion considering the heavy influences in the show and how he's quite an important character in IDW05

I feel like if he appears, it's gonna be a ~thing~ considering if he was easily accessible at the moment they would've brought him in the several times that someone has gotten hurt or to check them over as a checkup. He's probably not dead, and I feel like earthspark won't pass the opportunity up, so my main theory is that he's defected thanks to some of the pressures we see in the series with GHOST, Megatron working with the autobots, and the frankly awful treatment of a lot of the decepticons post war.

#maccadam #transformers #I'm absolutely thinking a lot so much about him being one of the few who still have theur autobot badge #like #i feel like we're gonna see more autobot rogues on the run #tfe ratchet #I'm yET AGAIN BRINGING UP THE NETFLIX TRILOGY BUT. but. in that he more or less said ''fuck that'' and set up a neutral clinic #and i can see earthspark ratchet doing something similar: prioritizing his oath over his faction #but it'd also be fascinating to see him full on join the decepticons post war badge in all because the context would be very different #earthspark ratchet #transformers earthspark #predictions

21 notes · View notes

hoipeepsimruby · 20 days

Text

Genshin things that I will ignore in canon:

Diluc and Kaeya exchanging letters to each other during his 3-4 year revenge quest

Kid Kaeya was a perfect angel who never did anything wrong

Adult Kaeya is a perfect angel who never did anything wrong

(Let the man be morally dubious that’s when he’s most interesting. Plus his recent characterization is inconsistent with his earlier one and his bio lore)

Yae Miko tormenting every single Inazuma guy character (her silly rivalry with Itto can stay it’s funny)

60% of the Venti alcohol jokes (they aren’t funny most of the time. The only time it’s funny is times like when Beidou wouldn’t let Venti and Kazuha drink despite them both being of legal drinking age)

Paimon being the travelers voice (I’m in the minority where I like Paimon as I feel she’s the travelers annoying little sister and with that in mind she’s written rather well but I do agree with everyone who’s annoyed with how she speaks for the traveler. While I’ve never published any fanfics in a lot of my ideas Paimon ends up getting a bit shafted due to me not really knowing what to do with her because outside of being the travelers voice she doesn’t do all that much.)

Most of the Inazuma main story (if I want to I can be willfully ignorant and enjoy the story but after reading gold-rhine’s Inazuma re-write I can never go back)

The traveler being a jerk to Furina at the beginning of her story quest. (In character for Paimon but the traveler I think would at least be a little more understanding and would try to get Paimon to stop guilt tripping her)

Finally, the traveler fails to get Charlotte any scoops from the fortress of meropide. (I know why but they did waste a bunch of her money and that feels mean)

#genshin impact #extra: 90% of fandom jokes #the aren’t funny and most end up as wild mischaracterozations #tbh most of what I’m annoyed with in Genshin either has to do with gameplay or fandom #I’m pretty good at enjoying stories regardless of quality #one of my favorite games is Fire Emblem Fates #a lot of my Kaeya beef comes from Diluc being my first fave #I read a bunch of good fics that treat the whole thing with nuance and how neither of them were in the right and they both screwed up #and now like 90% is all about Kaeya #or shipping #I’m neutral to most ships #I got Stockholm syndromed into like Neuvilette x Wriothesley #I have at one point activly seeked out Childe x Zhongli #I’m fine with a bunch of popular ones (JeanLisa Eulamber etc)#but so much of Genshin fandom is shipping and because of that it’s so hard to find fics of characters I like without it #that’s why I got stockholmed into liking Neuvilette x Wriothesley #because so many interesting fic premises had it in there it was like or be unable to read those fics #plus I like aro/ace Diluc and I actively headcanon a lot of characters to be somewhere on the aro and or ace spectrum #this is less of a thing I’m ignoring and more of a this makes no sense thing but #in the long ass multi update fontain side quest there is a girl who grew up in the fortress of meropide #and it seems ooc for Wriothesley not either have not noticed her existence or to have done nothing about it #but I can’t ignore it because the quest wouldn’t make sense without her #so for me he knows and is trying to do something about it but can’t get her out for whatever reason #idk something about her not existing on Fontaines people records of something #the least he could do is ask some of the guards to look after her and keep her safe and happy #that’s my explanation

7 notes · View notes

jankwritten · 1 year

Text

Jason Grace who finally has enough and turns around and snaps at the people who poke and prod at him about being perfect. His team loses ten seconds in a race because someone tripped and fell and they stopped to help, and someone on one of the lower-ranking teams makes an offhanded comment about how Jason probably wished they hadn't wasted the time and they kinda nudge him like he's in on the joke but he turns around and shoves them flat onto their ass instead. He kicks dirt on them. He says, "don't even begin to act like you know what's going on inside my head," through gritted teeth with a voice that's just a shade more voice than growl.

I want Jason Grace playing a secret role board game and everybody keeps joking that Jason can't possibly be the villain because he'd give himself up, that's just how perfect Jason Grace is, he can't even fake being evil for thirty minutes, haha, meanwhile Jason grips tighter and tighter to the little traitor token in his pocket and loses the game, because he got lost in making that one specific person miserable.

Camp-wide truth or dare where people keep giving Jason all the tame fetch-quest type dares like they all think he'd immediately protest to anything even slightly straying from the rules to the point that he starts targeting other people with the worst dares he can think of, asking the nastiest truths, things that go beyond petty gossip into realities. They decide to end the game early because he asked one of the Aphrodite boys if it was true he laughed while his capture the flag teammate nearly bled out last weekend.

Jason Grace who had all of his wolf traits beaten out of him by a merciless system that couldn't see who he was beyond a name, a son, a soldier, so when he bares his teeth it's not to threaten he'll physically bite yknow. Because when he snaps it's not his jaw it's his tongue you need to worry about.

Jason Grace who is a menace, and not in a good cute fun way. Jason Grace who is a bully and an asshole and he sucks and he deserves it.

#WOW i'm in a fucking mood tonight partners holy shit #pjo #jason grace #hoo #evil Jason Gracce #If you can call it that #really more chatoic neutral jason than Evil Jason #yfeel me #he's only going after the people who go after him first he's just being WAY meaner about it #i'm in a vindictive little mood because my brain is an asshole today ugh #percy: haha oh i bet you hate that your diorama is just slightly off scale bet that bothers you soooo much #jason: are you truly sure that your dad loves you? i mean really. do you look in the mirror and see someone who deserves a father's love?#percy:#FUCK now I wish I remembered who made that post earlier about Jason and Percy having a more irked relationship #like they DOn'T like one another but they're still making out about it you know #yeah that's this Jason #but also of course this Jason has a soft spot for Nico still because Nico has never once pressed those ideals onto him #Jason will slash someone's throat open with pointed words and then turn and snuggle his cheek against Nico's hair immediately after #help my jason grace and my kent parson are bleeding into one another #oh man. oh fucking man this just gave me SUCH an idea for hockey au....

109 notes · View notes

neon-vocalist · 5 months

Text

behold!! my proseka fill the jars :] ID under cut!

**pretend honami and saki’s jars are much more full (about on par with ichika’s jar). i’ve realised my mistakes after typing out the ID

IMAGE ID: an image showing 26 jars, each labelled with a character’s name. the top of the canvas has the project sekai logo and text reading “Fill the Jars. How much do you like each character?”. jars are labelled and filled as follows:

Miku, filled about 3/4 of the way with teal

Rin, filled a little less than 1/2 with orange-yellow

Len, barely filled at all with greenish yellow

Luka, filled a little over 1/2 with pink

KAITO, filled about 1/4 of the way with dark blue

MEIKO, filled the same as KAITO’s with red

Ichika, filled nearly to the top with blue

Saki, filled 3/4 of the way with yellow

Honami, filled about 1/2 with red

Shiho, filled about 3/4 with green

Minori, filled a little over 1/2 with orange

Haruka, filled the same as Minori with light blue

Airi, filled the same as Haruka with pink

Shizuku, filled about 3/4 of the way with aqua

Kohane, filled a little under 1/2 with pink

An, filled a little over 1/2 with dark blue

Akito, with one small orange dot in the bottom

Toya, filled a little over 1/3 with blue

Tsukasa, hardly filled at all, with orange

Emu, filled about 3/4 with pink

Nene, filled about 1/2 with mint green

Rui, filled slightly more than Tsukasa, with purple

Kanade, filled about 3/4 with pale blue

Mafuyu, filled nearly to the top with dark purple

Ena, with a slightly larger pink dot in the bottom

Mizuki, overflowing with pink and spilling out onto the floor around the jar.

END ID.

#project sekai #proseka #pjsekai #my biases….. so blatant #my favourite units. SO blatant #hona and saki should be a little more filled tbh #like they should be on the same level as ichika. idk what i was thinking #i think i have a pretty neutral / positive opinion on everyone except yk. Those Ones #i can’t just slightly dislike people like a normal person #i have to hate them with every fibre of my being #i can either be ‘i like them fine’ or ‘I DESPISE THEM SO MUCH’ there’s no in between

10 notes · View notes

hopecomesbacktolife · 8 months

Text

hey, just. friendly reminder that fanfiction is morally neutral.

yes, that includes smutty fics. yes, that includes self-insert fics. yes, that includes the fics you consider Problematic TM and the fics you don’t think are Smart or New. in fact that’s kind of why I’m writing this post.

I know we all love to talk about Themes And Narratives, but—and please listen to me very carefully here—you are not earning Good Place Points for only reading the kinds of fan fiction you feel are Smart or Only Focuses On The Important Things Like Themes.

fan fiction is morally neutral.

what I mean is this: no one is harming you, themselves, or anyone, by writing a fic about two characters having sex. (are you uncomfortable with the fact that I typed the word “sex”? hi, this post is about you. people have sex. and they write and talk about it. it’s seriously fine.)

no one is being harmed by self insert fics, by smutty fics, by anything not exclusively Smart TM about the fandom or analytically adding to it.

(and that’s not to say these two types of fics, that any type of fic, can’t have those elements— some of my favorite fic authors, my mutuals, my tumblr friends, write fic in these genres, and they also explore Themes and Emotions and analyze character traits and histories and write brilliant plots and incredible character arcs and yknow what, it’s amazing! it’s fantastic to examine what makes two characters react a certain way to x situation while also having them fuck nasty about it!) (and yes, I did just type ‘fuck nasty about it’ and I promise, that’s fine, too.)

what I’m saying, though, is that it doesn’t NEED that to, I dunno, somehow validate it into existing. it just Is. it just Exists. it doesn’t need an aspect you Approve Of TM in order to earn the right to be shared, to be written, to be published and commended and interacted with and read. it just. Is.

and I think a lot of especially younger, or newer, tumblr users especially get uncomfortable with that, and they unintentionally veer right (..ha) into self-censoring, puritanical behavior which is exactly what every person trying to ban books and generally kill art, wants. (and we’re not even going to examine in depth here, beyond mentioning it, the fact that policing, censuring, and banning art has historically and still today is being used to silence marginalized voices, so, I ask you to keep that in mind as you think on this, too, please.)

what I’m trying to say is this—if you personally don’t enjoy smut, don’t enjoy self insert fics, don’t enjoy a certain genre, that’s great, you do you! but, you must, must understand that this is not a moral stance. You are not objecting to a problematic practice, exploited workers, consent issues, labor crises… none of that applies, because no one in these stories is a real person. a story written about two Star Trek characters kissing on the bridge of the Enterprise is just that, a story. there is no actor for whose rights to fight, no wages to dispute fairness of, no ethical ramifications of scenes to discuss. these are Fictional People in Fictional Situations.

fan fiction is morally neutral.

and the moment you try to make yourself feel Better TM, More Correct TM, or—one of the ones I encounter the most—Smarter TM, by saying oh, I don’t read that kind of fic, I read the good kind, with thought in it—

you’re not only causing harm, you’re actively employing art censoring behavior. is that something that you want to do? I hope not. I certainly don’t.

next time you see a fic or a genre you don’t Approve Of TM, please remember the easiest way of exhibiting that— simply scrolling by or blocking a tag! If you’re on ao3, their system is incredible for niche content searches, and blocking a tag even here on tumblr will (most of the time) work.

I just., there’s so many better options out there for you than to… act like this. I believe you, we, all of us, can be better than this.

fanfiction. is. morally. neutral.

#my words #personal #saw one too many posts of people being ‘oh haha no I read the GOOD fanfic the SMART kind yknow’ and being so pointlessly self congratulatory #like babes there is so much joy in media content once you stop feeling shame or moral superiority about it #I just. had to put this out there #especially because like. so many. soooooo many. of the people who say those things. are just. so thinly veiling actual like bigotry beneath #‘oh haha I don’t like ship fic’ to ‘well actually it’s just slash fic’ to ‘gay people having sex is gross’ see what I mean. it’s a pipeline #the ‘smut fic is gross lol’ to ‘actually talking about sex at all is bad’ to ‘hi I’m anti choice’ pipeline is. more real than u might think #and I say this as someone fucking raised in all the problematic bigotry. but like babes you cannot flourish like that sorry!#anyways it’s just like. so much of this is just thinly veiled censorship biases or self discomfort unexamined or latent prejudice #and it’s so pointless too like babes smut fic has existed since ever you are not going to stop it from existing now #and in general hating on a fic is just.. kinda pointless! there’s so much fic in the world you can just go find the kind you enjoy instead #anyway let’s hope this one does not break containment 🫣 I have walked the puritan walk I do not need them heckling me lmao #fanfiction is morally neutral

12 notes · View notes

giftedpoison · 6 months

Text

yo pjo fans come get your author what the fuck was that post about palestine and israel. (i say this as if I'm not also a fan of the series)

(Like on one hand I'm glad he recognizes it is a genocide and that the palestinians deserve to be free. But this entire section is horrid:

"The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.

Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them." )

^ yes that is the link to the post in question. I think you can already see a less than tasteful element to the post (which i actually just noticed)

#like #i just cannot even #he then says he'll continue to write books that will give young readers joy and that he will continue to refuse to demonize any group of #people and that he will continue to call for less violence not more #but how he plans to do that when in the opener he says he is not on social media at all and only posts about his projects and books #I feel like the first paragraph is mostly fine if not a bit neutral for admitting earlier that the Palestinians were being genocided #but to follow that paragraph immediately with the second one? oof #rick riordan #palestine #pjo #israel #free palestine #pjo series #i could expand upon my thoughts on this but just read it for yourself on his page it's not great #i realize I'm like five days late to this but i digress #like he does so much for diversity and is hosting POC authors under Riordan presents but sir #massive L take from him #completely negates how all over the world people are fighting for palestine #people are actively calling in to their reps and donating and protesting and posting about it like crazy to get Palestine help #but no “humans are selfish”#shut the fuck up its the imperialist governments that are selfish that are funding this actually

8 notes · View notes

randomnameless · 7 months

Text

Thinking about Supreme Bullshit and how convoluted was Supreme Leader's reason for declaring War on the CoS, by appointing Grégoire as a sham and puppet Bishop no one gives a fig about -

I was thinking at first more in lines of Supreme Leader herself, claiming - as House Hresvelg does - lineage from Saint Seiros herself (she knows it's a lie!!!!! but that beast made up that lie and stupid people believe it!) - so Supreme Leader claims higher "authority" on the Church than "Rhea", the Archbishop, and wants her seat to unify Adrestia and the Central Church under one banner.

If the Archbishop refuses, then Supreme Leader, claiming descent from the Goddess (iirc in one prayer it is mentionned Seiros is one of the Goddess's children!) herself is denied authority over Her Church, and has a (completely made up) legitimate claim and reason to get rid of the CoS, without needing to pretend Varley is a the new Southern Bishop.

But then I thought about something else...

Still using the lie that House Hresvelg descends from Seiros herself...

What if Supreme Leader, now besties with the CoS who helped her get rid of evil people who manipulated Adrestia (at least that's the official version) makes an official statement about wanting to claim Saint Seiros's remains, to put them in, idk, the Imperial mausoleum with all former Emperors and important people to Adrestia - under the guise of Seiros being one of the founders of Adrestia (as she supported Willy?) and the (supposed!!!) matriarch of the Imperial line?

Of course, the CoS can't "return" Seiros's remains to Adrestia, and thus a new casus belli is born.

Granted, in those two situations, it puts Supreme Leader in a difficult position - because if the CoS/Rhea/Seiros are outed as inhuman creatures who should not rule over the people, if Supreme Leader pushes her claim that she descends from those creatures, then maybe someone will tell her she's part beast, thus should not rule over the people too?

(she still could have Hubert silence any opposition, but at this point, why needing to make plans and create a real cause of war, if Hubert can do his thing on his own?).

#fodlan nonsense #adrestia stuff #i still find it hilarious how #Supreme Leader's family is supposed to descend from Jesus and no one ever says a thing about this in her war against the Church #TFW Rhea's Willy favoritism has much more consequences in the long term #like she managed to kept neutral information about the Elites and their crests and the 4 saint's crests #but Willy was a special case and what was done at first without any ill intent to celebrate her friendship #becomes the key to her downfall #it'd be even more depressing though...#FE16 #3 Nopes #sort of #but those situation would only work if Supreme Leader can accept lying about her being a non-human #given her mindset in FE16 about Nabateans I'd say that's the main issue against those plans

8 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

fuckyeahpipesofpan

Pipes of Pan

mikeepoo

I may be a pinko, but I'm no sheep!

zeethura

After All, Love Is Weakness.

balimasques

Bali Masques

lilacmoon83

Andrea's Fanfiction - The Most Powerful Magic