#like post next gen boiling point
Note
(Long ask warning)
Hello! I'm jumping on the appreciation train to say thank you so much for all of your meta and analysis! I just found your blog today, and you've already given me so much clarity and context for things I've been noticing in the CR fandom lately.
I quite literally spent my summer living under a rock (in the woods leading spelunking for scouts!) and so was completely out of the loop from early June through September. And while I am not yet caught up (I'm about to start ep. 65), I have been going through the tags and ao3, because I primarily engage with fandom through fic and I don't care about spoilers. And I can't help but notice that everything being written for c3 lately is just... monochromatic. The Hells have such interesting characters and premises. One would think they're ripe for creative and interesting fic. And yet even what little gen fic that I have seen since returning to civilization has largely been boiled down to reiterative mush with vaguely shippy overtones. I can totally see this being indicative of the cresting and waning of the Imodna and Callowmore shipping you've been discussing.
I've gotta ask though, is it really just shipping that is causing this problem? Or is there something else in the source material that you think could be affecting fic in particular?
This is the first time I've been in a fandom with ongoing source material in over a decade. I'm used to watching people beat dead horses in their own little corner, safe in the knowledge that I can block them and it isn't going to affect my experience in the slightest. I guess I'm just having a hard time believing/remembering that shipping can be this incidious.
So a couple of things: first, I was not heavily involved in fandom until Critical Role; I have a decent amount of background knowledge from being on Tumblr and because I do tend to look into/research this kind of thing because it's very interesting to me, but you will probably have better snapshot of what fandom looked like 10 years ago than I do. Second, fanfic has always been a tiny aspect of what I've engaged with and I do find the bulk of it to be dull and samey (which is why it is a tiny aspect), so again, you probably are a better judge of the quality of fanfic elsewhere.
With that said, as part of a much larger discussion of which I only have as mentioned pieces of the puzzle, I do think there's been a shift over the past decade or so of like...people expecting the source material to reflect fanfic-y desires, and resenting it when it does not; people not seeing the point in enjoying non-canon ships; and a broader theme of self-infantilization. This has to a small extent spilled over into published fiction, though thankfully there's plenty that isn't that. It's not just shipping (though that absolutely can be insidious to the point that people have been harassed and doxxed over it); I think it's a general taste for pablum that has been growing within fandom spaces.
I'll link a few posts I've made and a source that, while I cannot vouch for it per se I did read and found enlightening at the end but I think a really indicative example as of late was the fandom response to the show Good Omens (spoilers for Good Omens S2 in the next link if you are by any chance avoiding those). Obviously do not do anything obnoxious to the person who wrote this question, but there are a worrying number of people in fandom spaces who believe this unironically and uncritically: fiction exists to "save us from hurtful reality." And I do understand that the tumultuous politics and world events of the past decade are probably a factor; but I mean, have you looked at literature from the first half of the 20th century (or like. the second half, for that matter)? It is, in my opinion, only going to help put our modern world and issues in better context and honestly make you feel better in the long run if you read, say, The Great Gatsby or The Things They Carried instead of burying your head in lower case song lyrics ... (hurt/comfort, fix-it, happy ending, 6k) and like, to be clear, I have written a small portion of lower case song lyric-titled fics myself but most of them aren't terribly happy, and even so, god I'd be horrified if that was all people were reading.
We've seen it across fandom at large with the polls; I have not watched season 2 of Our Flag Means Death in part because I've realized with horror that this mentality has swept, plague-like, through that fandom; people are acting like having a canon queer ship on a small premium cable show in 2022 is world-changing and unprecedented while also kind of ignoring everything that isn't the central ship (including valid criticisms of how this takes a real-world plantation owner and turns him into a goofy fop, how there's precious few female characters and none in the main cast, and how the actually far more groundbreaking nb character is pushed aside in favor of the core M/M ship). Spoilers for Good Omens again (sorry in advance, Good Omens 2 was a realization point for me how deeply and widely this rot has set in in some places and I have a bunch of sources of people being like "guys stories require conflict and tension to be good" in response to the overwrought moaning that the story wasn't unambiguously happy) but this is another author responding to the "the desired endpoint of all fiction is obviously to have your ship living in a small house together in bliss and anything else is torment" mentality.
In addition to shipping another factor is, I think, people overidentifying with characters and as such being reluctant to actually put them through any sort of hardship, however minor. I recently reblogged a post about the origin of the concept "Mary Sue" and it led me to read a bit about its history, because it was in fact created by women. It was a woman in the Star Trek fandom who was sick of spending money to buy fanzines (pre-common home internet, let alone pre-Ao3) only to find the vast majority of the stories to be this "here is my self-insert who is perfect and beautiful and pure and every other character thinks she is the greatest even if that's entire OOC". It was a frustration with the abandonment of the characterizations in the original work. And that's true today - I have read a popular Imogen and Laudna fluff fic to see what the deal was and it stripped out so much of their premises and characterizations it was unrecognizeable as them but for the hair colors and occasional cringeworthy attempts to replicate Southern US dialect - but what was notable is that those people were at least being honest and writing OCs (though to be fair a lot of them were also young white teen girls and the only woman in TOS was black and that was probably also a factor). Now, you get people who cannot tolerate any analysis of characters that is less than flattering because instead of having an OC, they are identifying so strongly with, for example, Imogen or Ashton, that they cannot separate out the real character or understand this is not an attack on them (or, to be blunt, as someone who sees some of my own worse traits in both those characters, a necessary critique). It's not shipping, but it is that same "fiction should only ever be a soft blanket or a flattering mirror, never a dark mirror and certainly never a door" mentality.
I do place a little blame on fanfiction itself; I think having something that is roughly made to order and tells you exactly what it is up front means people start to think that is the only way, and that's why we have people claiming Chipotle is the height of cuisine while making gagging noises at the authentic Mexican restaurant except for fiction. I think fanfiction can be great; it's fun to write and I have read some great pieces. But a lot of it is mush and formulaic and as that Mary Sue history points out, always has been.
So anyway, to Bells Hells: I think past campaigns also had a lot of dull fanfiction; I think the Nein lent themselves more to poorly written angst than poorly written fluff but yeah a lot of that was really samey and bland in its own way. Fanfiction has always been formulaic to a degree but I think we're starting to see the generation of people who really have read more of that than like, books, and sure there are shitty books, but man there's a LOT of shitty fanfiction, and increasingly, I find that shitty published books are bad because they're too much like fanfiction. [If I get the chance today I have a post I want to write about the ignorance of fantasy tropes in the current fandom which I think is also driving some of this and which I alluded to in my post about shipping; like, I feel the almost automatic but oddly thought-free resistance to gods and fate and the 'right' way to respond to a tragic backstory comes from this ignorance; this also is a case in the D20 fandom when they've dipped into sci fi.] Shipping definitely is a factor, and I think again C3 has an influx of fans primarily here to ship in that "my ship must become canon and must 'win' for some arbitrary definition thereof" which is probably why so much of the fanfic sucks, but again, this is a larger self-infantilizing and entitled mentality that goes beyond mere ships.
Further reading (mostly my own posts but not exclusively)
The fandom echo chamber (also Good Omens spoilers in a broad sense), not by me
Some discussion on queerphobia being inserted only as a tool to assist with specific shipping narratives (I think this ties in again to like. people need obstacles to justify why the characters aren't already in their cottage by the sea but once the characters are together they discard these obstacles even if they are systemic and would still exist, which makes for really bad fanfic bc it's clearly poorly plotted and thought out)
Me on why this campaign isn't good for shipping but a lot of the fandom showed up primarily to ship (might be the post that prompted this ask tbf)
Fandom monocropping (not my post)
My treatise on Imogen and Laudna specifically which honestly, even now that they are canon, still largely holds up re: the fandom and a related one about similarly fluff-centric Change is Evil and the highest order of fiction is Two Blorbos In A House With Zero Problems mentality (not by me but I've been part of that discussion)
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
Actually, going back to yesterday's topic of TMNT 2003 and it's lack of romantic subplots with the turtles themselves, I think this is the part where I mention that TMNT 2003 actually came into my life at just the perfect time?
So a little over a year ago, I ended my first serious relationship as an adult. I don't like talking about my ex too much even now, but we were together for over five years and after the break up, the next several months were spent stewing in a boiling pot of rage, sadness, and regret. I wanna say all my negative feelings towards my ex and our relationship peaked during May - July 2023 and didn't simmer down until around autumn, which coincidentally was about when I started watching TMNT 2003. (I'm also convinced that a lot of the stress from the breakup led to some of the minor-yet-concerning health problems I've been dealing with over the last several months, but I have no way of proving that.)
One of the big problems is that, at the time I broke up with my ex, I tended to watch/play a lot of romance-focused media. Under normal circumstances, I'd still be able to regularly engage with a lot of the shows and video games I normally do without being becoming a bitter ball of anguish. Unfortunately, within a couple of months of breaking up with ex, games I used to love like Rune Factory 4 Special or shows like Snow White with the Red Hair became absolutely unbearable play/watch because of all the negative feelings I had towards my ex. If a love interest wasn't reminding me of my ex with certain...behaviors, I was looking at a relationship onscreen and thinking to myself "Why couldn't we be like that?" It was a nightmare.
Fast forward (lmao) to... god, when did I start watching TMNT 2003? I wanna say I started watching it either late August or early September? The pipeline of how I ended up watching TMNT 2003 is a weird one, but there were a couple of things that stuck out to me when I first started watching it. For starters, even though it was a Western cartoon, there were certain quirks about it that reminded me of the anime I usually watch (namely the fight choreography and being so heavily plot-focused rather than episodic in its storytelling) and I found myself gravitating towards it because of that alone. And I just love the characters. The turtles themselves are incredibly well-rounded with their own strengths and flaws, and the supporting cast and antagonists make the world feel very alive and lived-in. (I personally can't get over how half the time the turtles aren't even attempting to get into trouble; they usually just end up walking into the plot of the week purely by accident.)
But besides that, as I mentioned in my other post, even though there are a couple of romantic subplots in the show, most notably the April/Casey one that spans pretty much the entire series, the turtles themselves never end up entering a serious relationship with anyone. The closest we ever get to romance with one of the turtles is Don's one-sided crush on April, which was never going to go anywhere on account of her being an adult and ending up with Casey, and I wanna say the crush is almost entirely dropped by midway through Season 3. Beyond that, the turtles are never shown becoming physically attracted to anyone and all their important relationships--Splinter, April, Casey, Klunk, Leatherhead, Honeycutt, Sydney, Angel, the Professor, the Justice Force, Traximus, the Daimyo, Usagi, Gen, Renet, the Ancient One, the Acolytes, Cody, Serling, and Starlee--are all strictly platonic. And you know what? That's okay by my book.
It is a fact that society regularly insists that the key to happiness is finding your One True Love and places more emphasis on romantic relationships than platonic ones. I personally don't want to die alone, but at this point in my life, I don't need a romantic relationship to be happy--in fact, I think being in a relationship would just complicate things when I'm still getting my shit together as is. When you look at Leo, Raph, Don, and Mikey within the context 2003, I cannot recall a single moment where one of them complains about how their status as a one-of-a-kind mutant turtle means they'll probably never land a partner and as far as I can tell, they seem perfectly happy as is. They have each other, they have Splinter, April and Casey are there too, Klunk, all their other friends--really, what would giving one of the boys a love interest do for them? The answer; not all that much, honestly. In fact, I feel like the risk of giving any of the 2003 turtles a love interest far outweighs the reward.
Now, mind you, I don't think it's impossible to give one of the 2003 turtles a serious love interest--in fact, I have a lot of thoughts about how it could be done right--and that it actually would be something worth exploring in a reboot/sequel series that'll likely never happen, but again, I don't think that TMNT 2003 suffers for the lack of turtle romances and is perfectly fine as is. 2003!Leo, Raph, Don, and Mikey are very lovable characters and are able to have fulfilling relationships without any of them being romantic in nature and I think that's a good message to send to people, whether you're a young kid or a grown adult. Romance is great, but so is a crushing bear hug from your three brothers, your rat dad, and the two humans you adopted.
#star's turtle talk#Happy Easter I spent my morning typing up this dumb ramble that I'll probably delete later#Ignore me
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
As much as I loved DBS: Super Hero, it did also serve as a reminder for why modern Dragon Ball gives Gohan so little to do.
What it boils down to is that Dragon Ball writers seem to have difficulty finding new ways for Gohan to develop or evolve as a fighter. This is because Gohan himself isn't interested in developing or evolving as a fighter.
By contrast to the proactive Goku, Gohan is a reactive character. He doesn't want to be a big martial arts super-warrior. He has no ambition to become Next-Gen Son Goku. That doesn't mean he won't Do The Things. He's been Doing The Things since he was four. But he needs to have a reason. Something he's doing it for.
"To be stronger/better, to push myself, to become more than I am now," is Goku's driving motive. Goku is a martial artist driven to surpass his own limits, and this drives him to keep finding new mountains to climb.
Gohan's driving motive is, "To protect my family from that asshole." He needs a reason. Self-improvement for its own sake (or, as some have offered, "to be strong enough to deal with the next guy") isn't his passion. Plus, he's already one of the strongest people in the entire universe. How much stronger should he reasonably need to be?
There are all kinds of stories you can tell with a reactive character like Gohan. He's basically a superhero archetype. Spider-Man doesn't constantly train to make himself a better fighter with every waking moment. He doesn't need to; His genre isn't one of progressive escalation.
The problem is, Dragon Ball is dedicated to progressive escalation, arguably to its detriment as Modern Dragon Ball is well past the point where escalation no longer holds any weight. The powers of the characters are so abstract by this point that they have to be defined solely in relation to each other. "Bob is STRONGER than Alex." "Yeah, well now we're fighting John, who's way stronger than Bob and Alex combined." "Yeah well Mark is 100x stronger than John!" "Frank could flex Mark into oblivion with his pinky finger."
This isn't a problem for Gohan, so much as it is a problem for the mindset people have when writing for Dragon Ball. Whether it's Toei or Toyotaro or even Toriyama himself, nobody ever knows what to do with Gohan.
Even when Gohan's in the driver's seat, he's being written by writers who don't know how to write the kinds of stories that Gohan, as a protagonist, is suited for. So they always wind up going back and rehashing things from the well of past Gohan things.
Goku gets to move forward and do new things, but Gohan is trapped in an endless cycle of doing the same three things and nothing else.
1 - Piccolo's sacrifice. Piccolo throwing himself in front of an attack for Gohan or maybe Gohan throws himself in front of an attack for Piccolo if we're being spicy today. REMEMBER THAT TIME. DO YOU REMEMBER?
2 - Gohan gets a rage boost or turns Super Saiyan 2, and then things get real. Everyone loved his Super Saiyan 2 transformation. They loved it so much they're still finding excuses to have him turn Super Saiyan 2 for the very first time again.
3 - Gohan has the power within him to win but he can't unleash it so Goku appears out of nowhere to save him and give him a pep talk, and then he gains confidence in himself and becomes strong enough to win.
To my knowledge, I don't think #3 has appeared in DBS as of yet but it was all over post-Cell Games. After everyone went nuts for Father-Son Kamehameha, we had "Goku gives Gohan a pep talk so he can win" as the resolution for both Broly: Second Coming and Bojack. Then in the actual manga, Goku made the save on Gohan during the Super Buu fight and then got sick of having to do this and fired him from protag slot entirely, which is worse.
Most of Super Hero was a lot of fun. But that final fight turning into "Let's literally bring Cell back so that we can do 'Gohan turns Super Saiyan 2 and defeat Cell' again but it's actually Cell again for maximum uncreativity"? I see you, writers. I see your total lack of ideas for this character.
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
All the lore for my Toh self-insert so far
Tagged canon characters for my own personal organization so i can come back and read this post later,sorry if that causes annoyance!! /gen
@leo-thecactus @peachyblkdemonslayer @user1046 @moonage-gaydream @cottoncandyteeth @cottoncandyspikes @insomniac-jay @julieemarine @theultimatesagavan @catboymoments @rosy-tickles
His name is Verano Azul and he's black/white mixed dominican-Not the Demon Realm equivalent like Willow being korean but as in one of his parent's is from Earth and dominican.The parent in question is named Esta and is something of a dark parallel to Luz,a human who ended up on The Boiling Isles and is instead a magic hater who sides with Belos in that way.His other parent is named Invierno and he has an older brother named Otoño who goes by Oto
Esta and Invierno are abusive to him because of generational trauma from their latino heritage and encourage Oto to bully him and uphold him as the 'sibling they raised right'.Verano had severe self-eestem issues because of this and it was only added on to by being bullied at Hexside for his shyness and obvious hybrid status(see him having non-pointed ears)
He's the same age as Luz and was a trio with Gus and Willow until she came along and made them a quartet.He met his first ever two friends the same day they met eachother when they saw him getting bullied by Boscha and Gus caused a distraction with his illusions so Willow could sneak him away to a hiding spot and Gus hid too to avoid Boscha's wrath.Once school let out,Verano nervously approached them to thank them and hung out with them the next day which turned into every day after that
He's in the healing track/coven and got shit from his family for it because they wanted him to take a 'more useful' one and his palisman is a pink dragon named Fresa
His parents also never truly let him be feminine as a kid and called him an ungrateful brat for asking for things like children's makeup kits and dolls so as part of her redemption arc,Amity teaches him how to be femme and buys him the stuff they refused to and a particularly special item that he's always wearing because it was the first one she bought him is a plain pink choker
His fashion sense is pastel and mostly girly but has some masc hints here and there since he's bigender and it makes him happy with himself.He's short with light brown skin,full lips,a big nose and waist length black hair that's natural thick and curly but he relaxes it and dyes a baby pink streak in it in season 3 as a bonding activity with Willow and Amity until the epilogue where we see he's switched to twists and several streaks and gone from regular pastel to pastel punk
He also has a job making video games since Luz introduced him to them and he learned how to make them as he loved them enough for it to become a special interest
Has a genderfluid pride pin on his dress in Thanks to them
Eda becomes a mother figure to him through his frequent visits to The Owl House to see Luz and adopts him mid-season 1 after finding out he's being abused thanks to him accidentally revealing it during one of their conversations.She went to the Azul house and tricked his parents into giving her custody via adoption papers and easily beat them when they tried to fight her.Oto wasn't around to witness it but is still scared shitless of her and avoids Verano from then on(He does apologize in For the future and Verano says he accepts but dosen't wanna be around him anymore and he respects that).Raine is also his parent due to his and Eda's marriage and there's not a day without both chaos and wholesomeness with them
Considers Camila his official parent too(and she sees him as her son and daughter)and is eternally grateful to her for teaching him about blackness unlike Invierno.Perry,who was never told about Verano's abuse until after Eda came along,did teach him a few things but sadly couldn't get to many because of him still living with his racist parents
And his final parent is Darius.This one has funny reasons because the context is that the two of them got so close thanks to Verano being best friends with Hunter that Darius kept dropping hints to Eda that he wanted shared custody and she teased him into admitting it outright and laughed at his embarrased anger before agreeing to it.Verano was overjoyed when they told him and pulled them into a group hug after giving each of them a platonic cheek kiss,squealing about how much he loves them and what they were going to do as a family
His full name is technically Verano Azul Clawthorne Whispers Noceda Deammone but for the sake of shortness he just uses his first name when introducing himself
When he started unmasking,he turned into a very bubbly and optimistic weirdgirl who slowly became a Team Mom as his friend circle grew.His favorite stims are repeating words and running around,he's good at handling meltdowns,his special interests are dragons cats video games and pink and his safe foods are booding and McDonalds(post/during season 3)
Like the rest of the Hexside Squad,he had an episode dedicated their first meeting with Hunter and his was called 'Little Pink Flying Hood and the Hunter'.It took place post Eclipse Lake but pre Hollow mind and had them bumping forehead first into eachother due to his broom going out of control and getting lost in the forest and trying to find their way back home.They became friends by the end as they bonded deeply,including Verano telling him he dosen't have to be perfect and Hunter responding that they don't need to feel like a freak either.They don't reveal his secret identity in ASIAS but there's a running gag that he thinks they will and at one point they snark that if he keeps at it they'll spill the beans
Verano,Willow,Gus and Hunter are called 'The Four Emeralds' and their group chat that that they created after Darius gave Hunter his phone is titled that and it's extremely chaotic but sweet
His Flapjack tatto is on his right palm
He's Gus and Mat's wingman and finds Mat's cringe to be super cool
Edit:I came up with one more point!!His halloween costume was a pink and white catdragon onesie with blue cat face paint :]
#verano azul#esta azul#invierno azul#oto azul#luz noceda#willow park#willow tag#gus porter#fresa toh#edalyn clawthorne#raine whispers#raeda#t4t raeda#camila noceda#darius deammone#hexside squad#hunter noceda-deammone#the emerald four#huntlow#t4t huntlow#mattholomule#gustholomule#t4t gustholomule#toh#toh spoilers#real self shipping hours#letters from summer#THE AUTISTIC JUMPED OUT
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lmao I'm thinking of maybe applying for a physical art show next year to sell prints n shit and I realized I should probably have at least one "major" social media site account for normal people to follow and keep up with me. But, man, Twitter's crumbling. I'd rather drink boiling battery acid than use Facebook again. Instagram just rolled out its own version of Elon Musk's $8 bully-me badge so my posts would get buried more than they already did when I used that site, but IG's owned by Facebook anyway so what's it even matter.
At this point I'm just like... Jesus. A mailing list??? Do people still subscribe to mailing lists in 2023??? I love mailing lists but I'm possessed by the spirit of someone's gen x dad so lmfao
#textpost#Mailing lists are great. No ads. Longform posts with personality and unique user-designed layouts#I can save them for later if they have something I wanna come back to and forward them to friends very easily#NO FEAR OF MISSING OUT WITH MAILING LISTS. I can read them at my own damn pace#I love checking my email and seeing updates from the artists and sites I follow#BUT I recognize this is a form of communication often viewed as outdated by many#Which is why I just haven't already made my own
25 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! ok first ask, so I like hp next gen granted I do have a very specific and unpopular opinion/interpretation on them. Now one of favorite characters is albus.
Recently I've seen some posts about the idea of albus having a mental health disorder (mainly depression) and I was wondering what your opinion on that is. Do you think that it adds depth or nuance to some of the things he does or do you think it in some way takes away his autonomy by making him influenced by a disorder?
Personally I'm one of the 3 people who headcannon him to be bipolar and I think that adds to his dynamics and character. But what are your thoughts on headcannoning him with a mental health disorder/s?
Okay so, I’m certainly not the authority on this subject as one of three neurotypical people on this site lol but I’ll give it my best shot.
In my experience, head canons have never been positive nor negative in existence. Simply neutral. It all depends on how you spin it.
Is Albus boiled down to just… being depressed all of the time in your fic/hc/whatever? Then yeah, that’s not great. If you decide to make one of your characters depressed, then you need to do some actual research. Slapping a label or identity on a character to describe their personality in lieu of anything else is sort of reductive? However, sexuality, gender identity, mental illness and race all play giant roles in our ever evolving identities as they inform how we navigate the world. Albus being bipolar or depressed would add as it only can in this instance, since we’re giving and not taking away.
Of course at the end of the day, a lot of people in fandom love to project in a lighthearted way (hence those giant bullet point list head canon master posts) and I truly don’t find anything wrong with those either. Usually they’re just made in good fun. If you plan to write fic, just do. Your. Research.
To answer your other question also; no, it doesn’t take away from his autonomy as characters are just themes and motifs, not people. Disability doesn’t take away from real people’s autonomy either (as it’s just… a part of them). Unless being bipolar informs every single last decision your Albus will ever make all on its own (ignoring his home dynamic, his school life, etc.) then it’s fine.
TLDR; if you do it good, then it’s good!
#ask#anonymous#again. im not the ultimate authority on this#HOWEVER im very glad you asked!#if this is disrespectful or offensive in any way just lmk!#if it’s good writing then it’s good writing!#and head canon posts are just for funsies anyway usually
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
mind's 2022 reading round up recs... pt. 1
featuring bad coping skills and over 1000 hours of reading
January: 1,979,541 words read, 132 hours
Most Memorable Read:
With A Conquering Air by Inexplicfics
Featuring Geralt/Jaskier.
Slow burn romance with a political twist. The whole series is a treat!
Honorable Mentions:
Pizza And A Movie (Suits, Harvey/Mike, Different First Meeting AU) by Closer
Boiling Point (MCYT, Dark SBI, Sickfic) by SilverWing15
February: 997,938 words read, 67 hours
Most Memorable Fic:
Butterfly Reign by SilentTeyz
Featuring SBI & DSMP Character
Dark and unhealthy family dynamics with a royal flavor. Literally had me up till 4 a.m. crying.
Honorable Mentions:
history has its eyes on you (Naruto, Gen, Reincarnation & Whump) by tasalmalin
you wait and you wonder who’ll take on your odds (Queen’s Gambit, Beth/Benny, Marriage of Convenience AU) by paperclipbitch
March: 1,485,471 words read, 99 hours
Most Memorable Read:
how fast the evening passes by meridies
Featuring SBI and college dropout Tommy
This just holds a special place in my heart. The family dynamics hit really well and I felt like it was portrayed really realistically and lowkey relatable for me.
Honorable Mentions:
By Wire Wood And Stake (Emerald Duo, Fantasy & Hurt/Comfort) by SilverWing15
from ice to water series [blanket me in snow specifically] (MCYT, Gen, Figure Skating/Olympics AU) by Drhair76 and Plantform
April: 1,770,795 words read, 118 hours
Most Memorable Read:
I’m A Healer, But… by yellowleader
Featuring Dark SBI and baby badass Tommy
I think I’ve read this about 3 or 4 more times since I first read it back in April. The way that Tommy and SBI interact in this and the fact that they have actual animosity and fights between them makes it really good. The twist also hits so good on re-reads.
Honorable Mentions:
By Your Ancient Names (Featuring God!Technoblade and Religious Themes) by Charnel
sleep deprived (SBI, Zombie Apocalypse AU) by micah_is_haunting
May: 1,250,854 words read, 83 hours
Most Memorable Read:
devoted by loosingletters
Star Wars Canon AU with Obikin featuring Religious Themes
I really loved the world building and the angst in this… It all worked together so well. Warning for temp. character death though
Honorable Mentions:
come to the jedi temple in the next ten minutes if you want an asskicking (Star War, Obikin, Canon Divergence) by destiny919
Complication With Optimistic Outcome (The Social Network, Eduardo/Mark, Time Travel) by yagyuzue
June: 1,283,408 words read, 86 hours
Most Memorable Read:
A Hell of His Making by obsidienne
Star Trek, Post-Canon AOS Kirk/Spock
I love all Vulcan culture focused fic and Spock's angst and Jim's insistence is so good in this. I also like the smart!Jim hints in this, it's so good.
Honorable Mentions:
The Bootstrap Paradox(Tenet, Neil/The Protagonist, post-canon... technically) by Vulcanodon
Sigh No More (Skyfall, James Bond/Q, Hurt/Comfort) by dhampir72
#mindspeaks#fic recs#star wars fanfiction#james bond fanfiction#mcyt fanfiction#the social network fanfiction#naruto fanfiction#the witcher fanfiction#suits fanfiction#if any authors want to be tagged or removed just send me a msg!!#2023
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
the point about throwaway terms is very fucking valid like i am fucking sick of seeing stuff about intrusive thoughts when it is just impulsive like intrusive thoughts are like "what if i poured boiling water on my cat" (not a literal example but that kind of thing) and they fucking suck and you feel horrific not just being silly and goofy
but i think the thing about gen z not being able to define itself it interesting as well because with social media there is no one thing you sit down as a generation and watch or take part in. there isnt really a top of the pops or a similar culturally defining piece of media other than say tiktok. but its also very easy to look at tiktok and see it as the face of gen z when i find most of the time it represents a small demographic of rich americans as opposed to the majority of gen z. like as a British person social media is very clearly dominated by americans
i also think there is something to be said about criticising gen z for being critical of older generations but consuming the media when we as a generation have been constantly harped on for being shit, have dealt with social media and being conscious of every political happening all at once from the age of 12, the housing crisis, brexit, the shortcomings of the education system, covid, and i could probably go on but all before even leaving school? and yet we are the generation that gets the piss taken out of us? like yes we fucking suck but also like come on. im not trying to say look at us we have it so hard because we didnt deal with world war two or the cold war or the 2008 financial crisis or 9/11 but we were also like 14 and witness to war nearly being started because of twitter and laying in bed at 15 watching black people being violently murdered and 16 trying to sleep after being told on the internet that if we dont post about everything happening ever you are a bad person, but our problem is not being able to define ourselves culturally? or trying to find an alternative to the present by looking back to the past that has been glorified by previous generations? like i dont think i can explain how mentally damaging waking up to find out that a bill allowing oil drilling in the arctic which will destroy the earth has been passed but still having to get up, go to school and pretend that fucking a levels matter before having any sort of life achievements is
sorry if this comes off as preachy but im just a little tired of older generations being seeming incapable of empathy sometimes - 🐸
No, you’re right! I mean, it’s very easy for us older folks who have done most of our growing up already to look back and say “they should be doing X or y” when….if that were true then we wouldn’t have “failed” before y’all even came along, haha. I think when we criticize gen z, there are two types of criticism:
1) where it’s just old people being afraid of change. Like, espcially socio-politically. It’s clear that the systems we have no HAVE FAILED CATASTROPHICALLY otherwise there wouldn’t be a recession, so much fascism etc. and it’s time for something radically different and older people don’t get the urgency of that as much as younger people do. Which is a cheap kind of criticism. Like, if you won’t support the kids then get the fuck out of their way. Cuz they’re gonna change the future with or without you. You’re just making it slower/harder for them.
2) criticism that recognizes some gen z movements as overcompensation or over correction of something that we ourselves have tried to fix before. It’s no huge secret that every generation develops its beliefs, aesthetic preferences, political ideals, etc in response to what came before it. Not just gen z. We millennials did it, too. And so did gen X and boomers…I think all the way back to at least the Reagan administration, here in the US anyways, things have been…on the downhill HAHA. and each generation tries to do something about. Then the next one comes along and is like “alright they tried X and failed, what if we try Y?” And sometimes we recognize the younger generations mistakes cuz we have made them, too and we just wanna be like “bro, no, no. Trust me. That’s not gonna work. You’ll see it when you’re older and you’re looking back at the generation after you too.” Those criticisms, I think, are fair. And might even help future kids if they listen.
But, at least for me, and I won’t speak for my entire generation or for those before me, my criticism doesn’t mean I don’t empathize. One of my fav Notes tracks is “People” purely because of the “stop fucking with the kids.” Young people have always been the face of change. They are usually the demographic that votes one party in and the other out. Conservatives always win only when they oppress the youth and appeal to the fear of old people. They’re on the edge of fashion, art, pop culture. So, I know better than to be dismissive of young people! Never! It’s just, sometimes I see the mistakes happening and I’m like “ohhh noooo stop before it’s too late” haha.
0 notes
Text
Diamond! Victory Road!
7th April
Ok Victory road was no where near as harrowing as I thought. I just took my time planned for each trainer and sloowly made my way through. The old man with the empoleon and tentacruel was scary there is a massive hole in my team in that I need an electric type move. Its really annoying that infernape doesn't learn thunderpunch this gen. Still not too much of an issue.
So then I start the grind. I Fly and surf around the sinnoh region collecting anything that might be useful. Mostly tms. I even go to the safari zone and catch like 30 croagunk to try and get a black sludge! Happy to suceed despite the time it took.
Then after grinding a lot in victory road. Getting bored and rare candying the rest I move forward to challenge Barry
At this point all my pokemon are near the level cap of 63 all being at 62 so this is a good first test to check all my pokemon are ready.
He starts with staraptor I go gastrodon. One Icebeam to remove him. Roserade is next so I switch to infernape who has a chesto berry inc ase of grass whistle. He goes for poison jab instead which does get the poison crippling me for the rest of the fight. Fortunately a flamethrower is enought o remove roserade and a focus blast is enough to remove Empoleon (I'm going special with this one). Unfortunately I'm now a little low. I dont wanna risk a miss with focus blast so switch into mothim expecting earthquake. He of course goes for crunch instead so I take a hefty chunk of damage but I use the bought time to chip away at snorlax until mothim is suuuper low. I switch back into gastrodon as at this point none of Barry's team mates pose a threat finish off the snorlax with earthquake, then the heracross and rapidash with surf for the win. Not too bad so far.
The league will be the real challenge and I really am expecting to lose some here. The aim is to have as many as possible before cynthia and not to wipe. This may be the end. Here is the team
Scruff the Mothim
Set up to be a special attacker with decent speed. He's honestly the sacrifice Mon if needed able to get some chip damage and has protect for stalling. He will be useful against Lucian once Mr. Mimes thunderbolt is gone.
Moves: Protect, Psychic, Bug Buzz and Air slash
Stench the Skuntank
A defensive tank and second answer to Lucian. I had trouble deciding what he would be about but I'm honestly really exciited to use him. I Just need to keep him away from fighting and ground type moves. With aftermath he may also be an answer to Garchomp in a sacrifice play. We will see.
Moves: Night slash, Poison Jab, Toxic, Screech/Dig
Cherry the Cherrim
My main answer to Bertha but honestly will probably be subbed in for gastrodon. I have never used one so I do not know how she will fair but she needs to last as long as possible. She is 100% a support mon either making infernape insane or setting up with leech seed.
Moves: Leech seed, Sunny day, Giga drain, HP Psychic/Protect.
Egg shell the Blissey
Massive special wall considered bannable in most nuzlockes but I'm not fussed. She is very necessary. She is currently running a complete stall set I will be Switching out tms to give her as much coverage as possible. I only have 2 sitrus berries but they will be her item of choice as leftovers is locked behind the post game for obvious reasons.
Moves: Toxic, Soft boiled, light screen, Chargebeam/Ice beam/whatever is needed
Lemonade the Gastrodon
Honestly has been the MVP of this run. So goddamn tanky with enough sttack and Sp.atk to dish out whatever he gets. Honestly this is my only answer to garchomp. I wish he was a little more defensive but this is the best I can get.
Moves: Recover, Ice beam, Surf, Earthquake.
Wukong the Infernape
Such a cool pokemon. I have never actually used infernape in a play through this has been great. Obviously its hard because every move comes with a price with him hence why I am going for the calm mind special set on him. With a zoom lens his accuracy is raised just a little but its better than flare blitz and close combat which are just so risky.
Moves: Flamethrower/fireblast, Focus blast, HP water/other tms, Calm Mind
Hopefully this team will be enough to take me through I am obviously nervous. Cynthia is a monster. But fingers crossed.
0 notes
Text
Au introductions
Note that those are my aus! I'll credit whoever artist or writer I've inspired from if it's the case! If some aus are similar to others, it's pure coincidence unless I say so... I didn't really explore all the aus on the internet.
Blue-Original
Black-popular to the point where you don't know who started it
Orange-Inspired
Red-Different interpretation(a section of different aus) also original
Now let's start!
It's focused mainly (if not) only on Saioma... So bear with me
-Pretty Cure
-Good Mastermind post game
-Frozen
-the little mermaid and villan Shuichi
-Experiment and spy
-Murder in the orient express +Phanthom thief
-Persona 5
-Twisted wonderland
-Miraculous, assistant Shuichi
-Miraculous, next gen (Komahina as the guardians)
-musical balerina Kokichi
-cheaters
-HTTYD
-Accidentally Ghoul king
-Prankster Shuichi (can work too with Makoto, Cihiro or Hajime)
-MHA
-Demon Shuichi and exorcist Kokichi(Why not? It was inspired by an artist who made demon Kokichi and priest Shuichi... Sadly I lost their name but if you find them... Give them a lot of reblogs and likes... The need to be recognised!)
-Egiptean God
-superhero x Phanthom thief
-Among us
-maleficent
-saber tooth/tiger Shuichi (feat a few tiny penguin Kokichi because his cuteness is too powerful)
-Monster High
-Tokyo Ghoul
-Pirate
-Winx
-Bakugan
-Disney villans and heroes motive
-Harry Potter
-Gravity falls
-roleswap
-Detective x superhero (feat grappy shenanigans)
-lolirock
-Aladin with a little twist
-Haunted hotel
-kidnapped mutant
-cats
-Wizard x Demon king(set in an original universe)
-Grim reaper Kokichi pregame (+demon Shuichi ingame)
-Minions
-Vampire Shuichi x Bat Kokichi (Fluffy Kichi is my new religion)
In miraculous I mainly like to have aus centred on character development and sanity since it looks like it lacks a lot in most episodes!
Then again... We are talking about a kids show here
-Kwami swap (inspired by all of the artists from tumbrl... You guys really make it so unique for each of you! @zoe-oneesama has the amazing scarlet lady au and I'm in love with it)
-Powers
-MHA
-Persona
-Dense Marinette
-Dreams
This ones aren't really focused on one ship... They could be adapters simply to any kind of ship and game.
-Persona hybrid
-Monster
-Persona soulmates
-Real and cognitive fusion
And here we are... At the hell hole of good looking boys who need therapy. The homosexuality is boiling with this one.
-no magic
-roleswap (I saw it in here from more artists... Keep it up because it's amazing)
-Ghost seeing
-Miraculous
-Deuce, the Fae prince (basically Sofia the first but with more chaos)
-Dolls
-Kindergarten
-Language barrier (from @twsty-lav they have one of (if not the) best aus I've ever saw... Crack, fluff, angst... You name it... Also... Pretty twst au and bodysnatcher Yuu are legendary)
-Memewars
-Lumi as the MC/Portal magic fem!MC
-overBlot monsters
-Persona 3/4/5(I give my babies GUNS!)
-MHA
-Emotion mark(You can smell the angst potential)
-Danganronpa (again... Angst all the way)
-Rubber duck cult (I regret nothing)
-Mirror Epel (Angst, fluff, but most importantly... Shenanigans)
-Motherly Vices
-Voltron
-Castle of illusion
-slugterra
-Venom and Deuce au
-Cut the rope au
-Mafia au
-lolirock au
-monster high au
-jumanji au
-Twiches au
-the horror aus
-God au
-Cut the rope au
-magical girls au
-Bakugan au
-Wild magic au
-Dolittle au
-gravity falls au
That's all, folks!
You can request for oneshots(for the twst fandom) or explanation of this aus.
For the Saiouma aus, on Wattpad at LowkeyClueless you can find my aus explained only for the entire Danganronpa section. For the twisted wonderland section only a few of them.
#twisted wonderland#persona 5#persona 3#persona 4#danganronpa#Saioma#Saiouma#Ships#Shenanigans#Crack#Angst#Fluff#Request page#Aus#Miraculous#To lazy to tag all the aus
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Only One︱Yandere Dabi x f!Reader
Synopsis: Friends with benefits aren’t supposed to be exclusive, but Dabi thinks otherwise. Too bad he waited until you fucked up to tell you that.
a/n: So uhhh y’all can thank @hawks-senseis for the inspo on this oneshot. Here’s where the idea came from if you want more context.
Hero Camp Bingo prompt: Hair pulling
@bnhabookclub weekly nsfw prompt: “Touch yourself.”
Bingo Masterlist
Warnings: Heavy dubcon/noncon, swearing, coercion, violence, injury, forced voyeurism, oral (giving), threats of murder, unprotected sex, degradation, hair pulling, light choking, spanking, gen. yan. themes, ambiguous ending (this one’s a doozy, PLEASE do not read this if the warnings make you uncomfortable)
6.5k words
_____
It felt good to get away from him―a certain pride to be had in the act of unspoken disobedience.
You should feel proud, he had it coming after all. Dabi might be a good mentor for passing souls heading down the path of corruption, like yourself, and he was an even better fuck―but that doesn’t mean he reserves the right to treat you like second-hand garbage.
No amount of wisdom from a seasoned villain or mind blowing sex could excuse his actions.
Dabi had a tendency to be lazy during all the worst moments. Avoiding the necessary like it was the plague, offering vague non-committal responses―sometimes not even that. He didn’t like answers that could make him liable, and so he never gave them to you.
When it came to the terms of your more intimate relationship, he didn’t care to set any ground rules. On many occasions you tried to pry an opinion out of him, but the most you got were heated glares and scoldings that didn’t assist you in understanding his preferences. Dabi never expressed concern over the level of exclusiveness the two of you were on.
So, you assumed he didn’t care.
Which made it all the more easy to disregard him when you couldn’t stand the thought of being around the flame user. If he wanted to be moody and take his frustrations out on you, that was up to him. But he shouldn’t expect you to come loyally crawling back when you needed to release some pent up energy.
Dabi would probably expect it though. Too bad for him.
You were still on a high, endorphins coursing steadily through your system. Part of you was bothered that even after you’d disregarded Dabi’s questionable feelings over you seeking others to fulfill your needs, you still found yourself thinking of him after the deed was done. Because as you lay in bed, a fellow villain in the works just about completely passed out next to you, your mind still drifted to Dabi.
You cursed yourself for the internal betrayal.
It only made you more pissed at the arsonist. Here you were, trying to enjoy yourself completely free of his mindless torment, and yet you still thought of him. Did he feel the same levels of distress as you did over such a menial thing?
Honestly, you doubted it. Dabi’s carefree attitude probably wouldn’t allow him a second thought towards your comfort. But maybe, under that tough exterior was a man who might actually give a damn about whatever the two of you have going on.
Unfortunately, his recent behaviour made you unable to sympathize. He didn’t deserve your energy that was put into thoughtful concerns and ‘what ifs’ over unspoken realities. What he did deserve was something to make him feel as uneasy as you did. It was worth a shot―to poke the bear.
Determinedly, you swiped your phone from the nightstand next to you, the warm glow of the lamp lightly illuminating your side of the bed. It was late, but you knew all too well about Dabi’s unhealthy sleeping habits, along with the other self-destructive tendencies you had to put up with many times before.
With a few taps on the smooth touchscreen, his contact was pulled up, and subsequently the ongoing conversation.
You were an independent woman, and he needed to know that. It wouldn’t surprise you if Dabi thought he had you wrapped around his finger. So, in this state of post-sex bliss, it only seemed right to let him know just what he was missing.
Well...sort of.
It was probably safer to keep the details of your night vague, for the sake of both yourself and the now slumbering individual next to you. A non-explicit, but still concrete in meaning message.
< How do you feel about the thought of me with someone else?
…
You figured he’d be up at this hour. And especially given the state of your relationship, you expected him to respond immediately. He might be a moody little bitch but he was almost always down to hook up.
But there was nothing.
Semi-defeated, you threw your head back against the flat pillow. Fucking typical.
Your phone buzzed in the light grip your hand held on it.
> i’d probably fuck you infront of them and then kill them.
Just slightly, your eyes widened at the message, an unexpected feeling of anxiety pitting in your stomach.
...Oh.
Dabi could be crude...so now was just him doing what he does best, right? Well, if he suddenly had such a strong opinion, then why shouldn’t you give him a taste of his own medicine?
Act like him―like you don’t care. That’ll rile him up.
< Yeah, okay…
You waited for a response in anticipation. It was petty, but you wanted so badly to make him hurt the way you did. Dabi never gave a shit about you enough to offer any form of permanency, or commitment to preserving your feelings. Realistically, you shouldn’t be so torn up over a guy who is that careless.
But as you lay in bed, eyes trained on the artificially glowing screen, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest from growing.
The text showed, ‘read 1:40 AM.’
And so, you could only resign yourself to fate.
_____
Dabi couldn’t technically blame you for your behaviour―but he was going to regardless.
While he never came out and said he was bothered by your spur of the moment, mixed-message text, you could tell that you’d struck a nerve. And now you were starting to regret it, for the most part.
Dabi didn’t get angry in the same ways a lot of people did. He didn’t curse anyone out, or make a scene out of putting someone in their place. No―he was silent with it.
From the time he’d spent accompanying you on missions, you slowly picked up on his habit for chatter amidst the fighting. Relentlessly taunting the enemy before burning them to a crisp, with a stretched grin on his face the whole time. Dabi knew his strengths usually tended to outmatch his opponents, so he grew cocky.
You hated him for it, but now you wished those teasing remarks he’d throw around the battlefield were still a thing of the present.
Dabi didn’t need to use words to show just how much your surprise text ended up irking him. The unbridled violence, burning any threat in sight that got close to either of you without so much as a hint of hesitation to think about his actions told you all that you needed to know.
He didn’t say anything outside of the few worded offers of instructions during your brief outings. And even then, Dabi was uncharacteristically cold. Not that he didn’t always have a certain air of harsh sternness, but throughout it persisted a distinct playfulness. Something that suggested his arsonistic behaviour was amusing to a degree.
And now it boiled down to destroying anything and everything without batting an eye, with a look that could kill cemented into his features the whole time.
It was a mistake.
With each passing second spent in the heavy silence that was his presence, your resolve to stay proud of making him feel for you was crumbling into ash. The tension remained palpable, and some deep fury inside of him was practically buzzing off of his being.
So when he called you two weeks after the incident, you figured he was ready to tell you to fuck on out of his life. It would be better than the seething rage he quite clearly felt whenever you were near him. An act of mercy, so to speak. You still had potential as an upcoming villain, so perhaps he didn’t want to see all his hard work go to waste.
But then he invited you over.
Dabi almost had to repeat himself as you failed to comprehend his words for a moment. He wanted to apologize. In person, no less. To make up for his shitty behaviour, a result of something that wasn’t even your fault.
Surely you could spare him the time of day, or rather night, to hear the poor guy out?
You agreed.
But your gut feeling told you to run in the opposite direction and never stop.
Turns out, Dabi really did have you wrapped around his finger. Because despite that sinking feeling that just got worse and worse with every step in the direction of his place, you kept going. The voice in the back of your head screaming at you, telling you that something was wrong. That it’s Dabi you’re talking about, and he’d never just admit to being at fault―it was never offered the spotlight in your consciousness.
Because even though the two of you weren’t exclusive, what happened two weeks ago was the first time you were ever with another person like that. Dabi was your first, he taught you everything you wanted to know. But even then, as someone who held such an important place in your life, he couldn’t find it in himself to offer you anything more than those passing nights satiating each other’s carnal desires.
That’s why you moved forward. Hoping that this would be the turning point. That you’d finally be free from his vague answers that left you more unsatisfied than before you even asked them. You didn’t need his permission to be with other people, but you had a strange sense of loyalty to him for showing you the ropes.
What you wanted now was for him to admit that whatever was going on between you, it wasn’t anything more than friends with benefits. He was your mentor, and occasionally you’d fuck on the side. But that was it. Whatever this ‘loyalty’ was, it wasn’t enough to warrant his treatment towards you.
You needed to hear him admit that what he said was wrong, and that like you suspected, he was just too lazy to give you a concrete answer over whether or not he cared about your life outside of him.
In a last ditch effort to calm the nerves that were intrusively firing off in opposition against what you were about to do, you took a deep breath before knocking on his door.
Dabi eventually greeted you, leaning against its frame with eyes trailing up and down your form. “Glad you came.”
He was wearing only a pair of black sweatpants, putting the scars adorning his arms and chest on full display. The metal staples glinted in the cold lighting emitting behind him, and you did your best not to stare at the entrancing sight.
Just get what you came here for. An apology. An explanation. The truth.
You offered a small side smile, looking past him into the dimly lit expanse of his home. “I did. Can we get this over with please?”
He gave pause for a moment, before pushing off the door frame, stepping to the side and gesturing with his hand for you to enter.
Unspoken, you stepped through the threshold, trying to maintain a distance between your bodies as you slipped past him. Now inside, you noted how much warmer it was than the frigid nighttime air. Dabi always ran a little hotter than most people―naturally. Only now you could really appreciate it for what it was worth, wondering if he even needed heating in the colder months of the year.
Your body tensed at the lowness of his voice behind you, catching you off guard. “Before I say anything...there’s something I wanna show you, if that’s alright.”
You turned to face the flame user, quirking a brow at his characteristically vague offer. “I guess that depends, what is it?”
Like the time you spent on the way here, a distant feeling of dread settled in the back of your mind. A somewhat playful smirk crept across Dabi’s face, lightly tugging at the staples keeping his skin together. “Well, if I told you then it would ruin the surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”
...
You didn’t trust him.
But, that didn’t mean your emotional state could afford to deny him. You wanted to get what you came here for and then get the hell out. If that meant some momentary setback, then so be it.
You gave the scarred man an inquisitive scowl, before lightly shrugging your shoulders in compliance.
That’s all the confirmation Dabi needed, as he began stalking to the back of the living space without another word. And if his back wasn’t turned as you trailed behind him, you’d be able to see the small grin just barely ghosting his lips.
The door to his bedroom creaked open as he pushed against it, only a dim light from a lamp spewing out. Dabi stepped aside, “After you.”
Once again, you regarded him with a sceptical look. It wasn’t the first time he’d acted in such a way, the man being generally shrouded in mystery. Yet, as he waited patiently for you to see whatever he had prepared, those alarms in the back of your head felt deafening.
With a deep sigh, you carefully stepped into the bedroom. And as soon as you were past that threshold, you stopped dead in your tracks.
It was him. Tied to a chair, gagged and sporting a painful looking black eye―the man from two weeks ago. You almost forgot his face, like yourself a budding villain only seen in passing. But you were positive it was him, shaking, scared, and wide-eyed for the flame user behind you.
Somehow, Dabi managed to find the now unfortunate soul you slept with instead of him, and as the door to the bedroom shut, a click of a lock falling into place under a key, the weight of the situation crashed down upon.
Your quirk isn’t offensive, nor defensive. It’s support class, and entirely useless now.
With a turn of your head, you saw Dabi pocketing a small key, a devilish smirk plastered across his face. As for you, such emotions never came.
“What the hell is this? Why is he here?”
Without acknowledging your distressed questioning, Dabi walked past you and towards the man now struggling against the bindings. “You wouldn’t believe the mouth on this guy, doll.” A little too aggressively, Dabi rested his hands atop the man’s shoulders, instantly stilling him. “Told me all about the fun the two of you had.”
Your eyes rested on the coldness of his, that gaze lingering with a dangerous amusement.
“Dabi...what’s this about?”
In truth, your intuition had already led you to the likely conclusion of this ‘surprise’ of his. But the cruelty of it all, the unexpectedness, had you praying it would play out in any other way than you were predicting.
Dabi’s stare drifted, taking in your still unmoving form, regarding you up and down before those cerulean eyes landed on yours again.
It was almost a sneer, laughing slightly at your disbelief. “You really don’t know how badly you fucked up, do you?”
And just like that, you felt the blood drain from your face. It was never your place to decide what he was and wasn’t comfortable with, even if it went against your own boundaries. With the meaning of his words dawning on you, it was clear that his long held silence in the matter should’ve been enough to sway you against seeking others.
All that was left to do was reason with him, and hope you and the man tied down would make it out of this alive.
With a shaky breath, you forced the words out of your system. “We’re not exclusive. This is taking things way too far, and he doesn’t deserve to be roped into your shit.”
Dabi lightly drummed a finger against the man’s shoulder, head tilting at your claims. “Tell me, have I ever once said you could go around fucking other guys?”
You swallowed nervously, shifting uneasily under his focused glare. “...Well no, but―”
“Then what the fuck were you doing whoring yourself out to him, huh?”
The room was completely silent, save for the heavy breathing of the terrified man, and the sound of your hammering heart reverberating in your skull. You flinched at his words. It hurt, when Dabi knew very well that he was the only man you’d been with, aside from this one time fling, an issue that was being blown way out of proportion.
He continued before you could give an explanation, voice low, eyes narrowed and piercing. “I should just kill him right here and now for touching you. Bet the fucker would deserve it anyways.”
Honestly, you didn’t think the feeling of your heart dropping in your chest could feel any more intense. But it did, and the tears welling and threatening to spill down your cheeks could attest to it.
“...You don’t mean that.”
Dabi’s lips pulled into a sinister smile, putting tension on the staples adorning his face. You weren’t sure if it was the look he gave you, or the words that followed which frightened you more.
“Oh, you know that I do, sweets. But...since I’m so forgiving, I thought I’d let you earn his freedom instead.”
Not a sound was to be heard as you processed his words. An offer so vague, but dreadfully explicit at the same time.
Your voice was quiet, barely audible. “How?”
Somehow, that horrid grin grew wider. “You care about him, right? So...you should be willing to do whatever it takes to keep him alive.”
At this point your nails were digging painfully into the skin of your palms, being the only thing grounding your racing thoughts. Reluctantly, you responded. “What do you want from me?”
If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn he waited to reply for dramatic effect alone. He should know what he wants, otherwise nothing would be playing out so smoothly for him.
“Strip.”
Your gaze flitted to the still restrained man, looking just as appalled as you. Dabi looked everything but the sort though, still immensely enjoying the reactions you so honestly gave.
“I―I’m not doing that in front of the both of you.”
At your words, Dabi simply shrugged, an expression of casualness crossing his features. “Suit yourself.”
And just like that, his hand gripped the back of the man’s neck, and in the dim lighting of the room you could see a blue luminance come from his palm. There was an agonizing shriek, but it was muffled by the cloth gag still nestled firmly in the guy’s mouth.
Your body acted before you could think through the actions. “WAIT!”
Some of the distance between the three of you had been closed, you now at the foot of the bed where they were both facing. Dabi ceased his actions, seeming greatly pleased with your frantic and pleading state.
There was a pause, and his hand just barely pulled back.
“You know what to do.”
With your lower lip slightly quivering, you stayed motionless, inwardly praying he’d change his mind. But that change never came, and instead it was the familiar flame in the palm of his hand, mere centimeters away from skin.
“Alright! Alright…” With raised hands, you watched as Dabi went back to gripping the man’s shoulder. And so, with shaky movements, you fumbled with the fabric of your clothing. Your shirt was pulled up across your body, maybe even a little hurriedly.
Of course, Dabi would have none of your rushed intentions. “Ah-ahh. Nice and slow now, princess. Put on a good show for us.”
Not before regarding him with a hate filled glare, regrettably, you did as he said. Still facing them, you slowly peeled the rest of your clothing off of your body, article by article. The pile of discarded garments eventually laid abandoned at your feet, and in a feeble attempt to preserve your remaining dignity, you shielded your body with your hands as much as possible.
Dabi’s command came abruptly. Short and to the point. Those lack of words told you all you needed to know of the silent and seething anger inside of him.
“Get on the bed.”
Once again, you could only do as he harshly instructed, words spilling from his mouth with no hesitation. The mattress sunk under your weight, the wrinkled comforter pressing into your legs as you kneeled atop the blankets.
There was an amused snicker, “There we go. Now, touch yourself.”
You hated it. You hated Dabi. You hated yourself for not reading his silence properly.
But you spread your legs on the bed regardless, jaw clenched and heart racing.
Like a predator taking in the sight of its prey, Dabi’s eyes followed your hand as it moved south, one still being used to cover your breasts. You hesitated, and he was quick to comment. “Go on, a slut like yourself shouldn’t give a damn who’s watching, right?”
That’s not true. He doesn’t mean it.
Dabi knows he was your first, and the poor man roped into all of this was the only other person you’d been with. But Dabi was cruel, and his words were meant only to sting, whether or not they held true meaning.
There was no room to argue his point, so instead you screwed your eyes shut, and let your fingers slide down your body. To ease your own discomfort in the slightest, you gathered up some of your own arousal, running the pads of your fingers across your slit. You surprised yourself to even find a build up of wetness, the feeling only messing with your head.
You weren’t enjoying this. You weren’t.
You began rubbing tight circles into your clit, desperately trying to move things along. Honestly, you had zero clue how far Dabi was going to take things tonight. But wherever it was going, you wanted to reach the end as fast as you could.
Unconsciously, your hips moved in tandem with the pace of your fingers. A familiar heat began to build, and you could feel the coil in your abdomen start to tighten. You knew their eyes were on you, Dabi’s piercing stare not being one you wanted to meet.
But the thought of it, knowing he was studying your every move with intent, had you clenching around nothing. It was never lost on you how he treated you in normal circumstances―uncharacteristically observant to the way you reacted under his touch. Sometimes you thought he knew your body better than you knew it yourself. And so your mind wandered to those moments where he’d have you melting into a pool of bliss, hoping to ease your nerves from the less than private situation you were being subjected to. You let out an involuntary whimper, your fingers picking up the pace.
You were so close, the urgency of wanting to finish quickly having you coming undone faster than normal. Desperately, you ground yourself into your own hand, focusing on simply feeling.
...
“Stop.”
Your eyes shot open, confused and now painfully aware again of what was going on. There was nothing to say, so you simply regarded Dabi in anguish. He wasn’t going to make things easy on you.
He moved out from behind the man and towards you as he spoke, slowly sauntering with menacing steps. “Aw, don’t give me that look, sweets.” Dabi stopped at the foot of the bed, peering down at you with that cold stare.
“You’ve gotta make up for what you’ve done, remember?”
_____
You could feel the drool seeping out of your mouth, running down your chin and pooling onto the bed sheets beneath your head. Dabi’s grip was tight, a hand firmly latched onto your hair. Pulling you back and forth in quick motions, groaning as you sucked his cock at a steady rhythm.
He’d long abandoned patience, once letting you go at your own pace, now taking control in disappointment for your lack of motivation. Almost considerately, his thumb swiped a fallen tear wetting your cheek. It didn’t do much aside from smearing the build-up of moisture, only showing you that he didn’t really care.
Hoping to move things along, you ran your tongue along the underside of his length, pressing into a prominent vein before feeling the cold metal of a Jacob’s Ladder. Hollowing out your cheeks, you attempted to bob your head to take back some independence. Dabi hissed in response to your ministrations, having disregarded the man behind him for a short while.
The flame user let out a breathy huff above you, “Fuck...just like that.”
You flicked your tongue around the head of his cock, dragging it against the weeping slit as he kept you in one place for a moment. But not a second later he was forcing himself back down your throat, earning a pained whimper from you as you remained kneeled over, propped up by your elbows and trying to grip his thighs for some semblance of support.
The vibrations made Dabi hiss, unrelenting in his ways as he fucked your mouth. “Look at you, fuckin’ drooling all over yourself―dirty little bitch.”
The way he pressed so deep into you, hitting the back of your throat with each harsh thrust had you gagging around his length. That only seemed to spur him on, the grip on your hair tightening and his movements becoming more erratic. You could feel yourself growing lightheaded, unable to breath as you desperately tried to keep up with his brutal pace.
Dabi had gotten talkative again―always did when he was close to cumming. “Ah, f-fuck. So goddamn good, babydoll. Takin’ me s-so well.”
A hand pushed against his thigh, trying to pull yourself from him. He laughed at your feeble attempts. “Don’t even fuckin’ think about it. N-not letting you off that easy…”
Black spots started to form in your vision, it taking everything you had not to anger the man relentlessly face-fucking you. Pained, you whimpered around his cock, and that must’ve been the final nail in his coffin.
Dabi let out a strangled groan, and you could feel the hot ropes of cum spilling down the back of your throat. Finally, he pulled you from his length, and you sputtered out in a fit of choking the second you could take a breath of air.
Exhaustedly, your body sank into the bed, a sedating lightheadedness clouding your mind as oxygen returned to your system. A certain muffledness enveloped your senses, being so drained from his actions. Your eyes were closed, so you didn’t see where he moved next.
Not until the bed dipped behind you, and a hand weaved its way into your hair once again did you realize what he was doing, and what he had planned next.
Dabi yanked your head towards, and you could feel his exposed and partly scarred torso pressing into your back as he leant down to speak into your ear. “I wasn’t fucking kidding when I said I’d fuck you in front of him.” He was laughing through the statement, clearly having much more fun with the situation than you were.
Yet, as much as you told yourself that you hated Dabi for what he was doing, as much as you repeated in your mind how you’d never come back to him again―his words still got to you. Unfaltering and honest, not a threat―but a promise. Knowing how good he always made you feel only had your headspace heading down a foggy path of conflicted acceptance.
Your head fell back onto the bed as he released his hold on your hair, opting to grip your hips with calloused hands instead. You let out a whine as a finger dipped between your folds, coming back to run across your slit.
“Fuck, dollface. Like a goddamn faucet back here―you enjoy bein’ watched like this?” Dabi punctuated his question with a harsh smack to your ass, the skin stinging under the impact and you lurching forward in surprise.
A high pitched yelp escaped your lips. “N-no! I―”
Another smack, this time on the opposite cheek. The sharp pain radiated through your backside, and you could’ve sworn the contact of his hand on your skin felt hotter than it should be.
Typical.
“Try again, cause this dripping pussy says otherwise.”
You balled up loose parts of the comforter in your fists, limbs shaking from his actions. “I’m n-not―”
It was much harder this time, his hand coming down causing a more strained wail to involuntary leave your body.
Dabi leaned down once again, “I’m not gonna move on ‘til you admit you wanna get fucked in front of this asshole.”
Another hit.
“Say it.”
You stayed silent.
Another hit.
“Beg for me to fuck you.”
Another hit.
You sobbed into the bedsheets, chest heaving with the exertion that the searing pain was causing you. Somewhere distant, you felt certain inhibitions and reservations leave your mind, bogged down by the suffocating presence of the man behind you. Your voice came out ragged, choked and cracking. “P-please, Dabi…”
His rugged palm collided with the reddened flesh on your ass again, no doubt to be sporting bruises by the morning. “Speak up, slut.”
A shaky breath was exhaled from your system. “Please, I―I want you to fuck me...”
There was a bout of silence, and you feared that the scorching pain would resume.
But it didn’t.
Dabi chuckled lowly. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”
You gave a deep sigh of relief at his words. It baffled you how he could switch back and forth like that. One moment savagely aggressive, the next nonchalant and disregarding your pains and aches.
He didn’t disregard certain needs of yours however. Or his, for that matter.
A crease formed between your brows at the sensation of the tip of his cock slipping down and up your aching heat. A mewl left your parted lips when he pressed into your abandoned and needy clit. Unconsciously, you moved yourself against his length, coating it in your slick while trying to gain some much needed friction.
In the moment of countless intense sensations coming together all at once, it felt like you and Dabi were the only two people in the room.
You could feel the velvety tip pushing past your entrance, sliding in with ease with how much you were already dripping from being previously denied release. Dabi went surprisingly slow, letting you feel each and every inch of his length as it rubbed perfectly against your walls. The metal piercings that ran up the underside of his cock were a stark contrast to everything else you were feeling, but it was mouth-wateringly satisfying regardless.
Dabi let out a groan as he bottomed out, now not wasting a moment before he began thrusting in and out of your sopping core. The grip on your waist only grew tighter with each passing second. That, and as he was digging his blunt nails into the plush skin, the palms of his hands were also heating up. But as Dabi continued to relentlessly bury himself inside of you at a near brutal pace, the temperature never made it past something that would leave a mark. It stung, but the low burning was distant when the rest of his presence was so much more intense.
The always lingering smell of smoke and cigarettes invaded your senses, the haze over your mind growing thicker. It was sedating, emotionally subduing, coaxing you to drown in the entrancing state until all that mattered was Dabi.
You could feel your limbs growing weaker, legs shaking as a warmth developed inside of you. Your walls clamped down around his length, growing more and more sensitive with each thrust. Your orgasm was creeping up on you fast with the way his cock kept brushing up against that sensitive and spongy bundle of nerves.
Dabi groaned at the way you were sucking him in, catching on to how close you were to release. It only egged him on further, a hand detaching from your hip to push the side of your face into the mattress. “Fuckin’ do it, slut. Cum on my cock.” With a sharp thrust, the back of his thighs colliding with yours with each movement, you felt yourself beginning to come apart underneath him.
“Why don’t you show the fucker who makes you feel this good, huh?”
There was a moment of white hot bliss, and then the waves of your orgasm were crashing down upon you, your walls clenching around Dabi’s cock. You let out a silent scream, drool seeping into the fabric your head was being shoved into. He continued with his rough and skillfully well aimed thrusts as he fucked you through it.
“That’s it, good fucking girl…”
Your release sapped almost all of your remaining energy, but not everything. Dabi continued to ravage your worn out body. You whimpered at the overstimulation he was inflicting.
“I-I can’t, Dabi. It’s too...t-too much…”
He huffed in response, his thrusts growing erratic and faster. “Aw, you can’t handle it? Well...maybe you should’ve thought about that before pissing me off.”
In a pitiful attempt to relieve yourself from his ministrations, you tiredly pulled away from him, arms shaking and threatening to give out.
“The fuck do you thing you’re going, doll?”
Dabi dragged you back, snapping his hips against you hard. His back pressed into yours, and you shrieked when his teeth sunk into the skin of your shoulder blade. Not breaking it, but drawing dangerously close. His dick twitched inside of you at the strangled noises escaping your mouth, rutting into you without pause.
You could tell he was getting close, breathing heavy against your skin, causing goosebumps to prickle across your body. An arm snaked around your waist, you mewling as two fingers began rubbing tight circles against your clit.
Dabi continued leaving marks along your back, one arm bracing him beside your head while the other was tasked with rolling and pinching your sensitive nub in between his fingers.
That familiar heat began pooling once again, you not even being able to think straight as Dabi practically fucked you stupid.
You heard the flame user laugh slightly at your state. He couldn’t see your face with the way you were positioned, but if he could, he’d be met with your eyes glossed over, nearly rolling back in your skull with how well he was working you over.
The hand not circling your puffy clit wrapped around your throat. In one swift motion, Dabi pulled both of you up, your back leant against his, eyes shutting tightly closed as your head rested against his shoulder. He kept up the fast pace, his length pressing even deeper and in new places than it was before.
His breath hit the shell of your ear, a shiver running down your spine as the raspiness of Dabi’s voice permeated through the blissed out trance you were in. “Tell me, could he make you feel as good as I do?”
…
The question didn’t quite resonate with you.
You didn’t know who ‘he’ was.
But you were sure that nobody could please you like Dabi did.
“N-no…”
The pace of his fingers quickened, you barely able to stay upright as you gripped the wrist of the hand latched around your neck.
“That’s right, I’m all you’ll ever need.”
Dabi wasn’t asking for your agreement. It was a statement. As far as he was concerned, Dabi was the only one who could satisfy you. Nobody else could do what he did to you. Not now, not ever.
With a particularly sharp and well angled thrust, you came on his cock for the second time. A strew of moans spilled from your wetted lips, full body shudders wracking your system.
And like that, Dabi’s hips sputtered, his cum spilling out inside of you and painting your walls white. His fingers constricted around your throat harder for a few seconds, before releasing his hold completely.
You haphazardly slumped back down into the mattress, chest heaving in exhaustion. You barely registered the feeling of Dabi’s cock slipping from your abused cunt, cum dribbling down your thighs and dripping onto the sheets.
...But you did register the force of your body being flipped over so that you were laying on your back.
Fighting against the heavy weight of your eyelids, you peered up at Dabi’s towering form. He was settled between your legs, spiked hair sticking to his forehead and eyes unmoving from yours. A look both satisfied, but aching for more.
“Don’t get all tired on me now. I’m not even close to being done with you.”
_____
Warm light spilled through the space of the room, the defined rays in the dark picking up particles slowly drifting about in the air. The curtains stayed closed, save for that small sliver letting such contrasting luminance in. It landed upon the blankets, your eyes following the ripples in the fabric while you came to.
It was comfortable, the heat of the sun, and of the room, wrapping around your mind and body. A sereneness to it all, unmoving and unworrying.
Until you shifted, and a dull aching throb brought you to your senses.
A glance to the foot of the bed. Eyes searching for evidence. The chair from the night before was nestled back into the corner of the bedroom, tucked neatly under a desk. You thought you were alone.
And as you rolled over onto your other side, the collision with another body proved otherwise. Still a little slow from the grip of sleep, and of the pains settling in your body, your head tilted up to observe the other occupant of the bed.
“Mornin’, doll.”
Blue eyes met yours. A small smirk adorning his face, yours remaining blank.
“...Where is he?”
A sigh escaped his lungs, the air hitting your skin. Dabi brought a hand up to your face, slowly, fingers ghosting your cheek. He paused, cupping your face lightly, thumb caressing your cheekbone.
“I let him go.”
His voice was quiet, barely a whisper. If you weren’t mere centimeters apart from him, you’d miss the short confession completely.
Dabi’s gaze lingered, locked with yours. You flitted between both irises, searching. Answers unspoken, a truth untold. Something that he wasn’t telling you.
A static doubt flickered in the back of your mind. There was a challenge to be had in the way he regarded you. His words playing out in your own conscience.
Do you really believe that?
Breaking the stare, but not the tension that only you could feel, he pulled your body into his. Your head laid atop his chest, the smell of his cologne permeating, and unmistakably Dabi.
You felt the reverberations of his voice as he spoke, said with a breathy exhale. “Go back to sleep, ‘still early…”
A hand remained carding through your hair, motions slow and soothing. The other lightly squeezed your exposed hip, a gesture reassuring, but it didn’t completely feel as such.
There was no denying the tiredness your body felt. His touches, soft and affectionate, coaxing you to heed his words. Dabi knew how your body reacted to him. He was your first. Your only.
And you knew him too. You knew better than to not listen.
So you did.
#yandere bnha#yandere dabi#yandere dabi x reader#yandere my hero academia#yandere mha#yanderecore#yandere x you#yandere#yandere writing#tw dubcon#tw noncon#tw coercion#tw swearing#tw violence#tw injury#tw degradation#bnhabookclub
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I Will Answer to Knife
Word Count: 3600
Pairings: Gen
Warnings: Post s11 Ice Chapter. PTSD, mentions of blood/murder, Zane isn’t in a good headspace.
Summary: Zane struggles with weapons he isn’t used to. Zane struggles with what he offers.
Wouldbelove, do not think of me as a whetstone
until you hear the whole story:
In it, I’m not the hero, but I’m not the villain either
so let’s say, in the story, I was human
and made of human-things: fear
and hands, underbelly and blade.
He overcompensates, loses his balance and skids across the courtyard. His side takes the brunt of it, and if he were human the bruises would be layered one on top of the other, each time he slips imprinted onto his skin in a motley purple-blue-yellow. He’s not human, so all he has to show for his fumbling is radiating pain not unlike cracked ribs, a dirty gi, and tight-lipped irritation that barely masks shame. The impact sends his shuriken out of his hands, arcing in an unrefined fling that has one stuck out of the gate across the yard and the other lying, like him, in the dirt.
He rolls to a stop, flopping back onto the ache of his shoulder blades to stare up at the sky. Without thinking, he balls his hand into a fist and bangs the side of his palm against the edge of the training mat he can reach. Frustration seeps hot across his throat and down his chest, like blood from a fresh wound. He rolls over on his sore side by mistake but doesn’t dare suck in a hissing breath, not with the others watching so closely, gathering his legs underneath him and rising to his feet.
Kai looks sympathetic from his spot on the blue mat that is not big enough to keep his failure contained, the dirt on his gi proof of his mistakes spilling over. The wooden swords in his hands are awkward and out of place, their weight different from his normal weaponry yet even with this disadvantage, he puts Zane down over and over.
Well, Zane does most of the work for him, really.
Lloyd watches with a pinched expression as Zane dusts himself off, his position at the head of the training session a solid presence, “I think that’s enough for today.” He says, and he almost seems apologetic.
“I can go again.” Zane insists, and refuses to stumble as he collects his discarded weapons, wrenching the edge of his blade out of the gate with his dwindling strength.
He’s exhausted. They’ve been running basic drills, ameatuer hour stuff Zane should have been able to do in his sleep- but it’s been years. Decades upon decades stuck on the throne of the Never Realm, and now he’s out of practice and off balance. Nindroids don't have muscle memory, and his regular memory has been shredded enough that things like this didn’t bother to stick. He can’t get through a single move without losing the dexterity that used to come easy and sending himself to the dirt- Lloyd had gone from advanced moves to novice to beginner slowly throughout the day, yet the result was the same: Zane in the dirt of his own accord, aching and weak.
To add insult to injury, Kai is obviously holding back. Jay had been too, yesterday, Nya the day before. In the span of a week he went from the most formidable man in the realm to an uncoordinated child who needed to be treated delicately. He could barely land a hit on the training dummy, and it didn’t even move.
“Maybe you can try your bow again?” Zane can’t meet Kais eyes, the pity he’s trying to mask making his wires curl.
“We saw how well that went.” Jay mutters not uncharitably, another string of disappointments a few days prior where his aim left much to be desired, and quite nearly took his eye when he’d lost his grip.
The others had been training too, but they’d stopped to watch as Lloyd summoned Kai and Zane to spar.
“We need to assess your skills in combat,” Lloyd had said earlier that day, the so we can make up for your shortcomings going unsaid but heavy all the same. Or maybe Zane is the one being uncharitable- but he’s in pain and tired and his mask of calm is harder to keep a grip on now.
And Kai had hesitated on the edge of the mat, holding the steel of his swords, and with his head down had swapped them for wooden fakes. The insult threatened to make Zanes lip curl, but he’d been forced to concede to his foresight when dull wood blades cracked against the side of his thigh and forced him to the ground, in one of the few times Zane had managed to stay on his feet long enough to be taken down by something other than his own shortcomings. He should have been able to dodge.
The shurikens are so small in his hands, and he hasn’t used them in so so long. He's rusty.
“I can go again.” He insists, stepping back onto the mat. In a real battle, he’d be less than useless. They couldn’t protect him, he had to be able to take care of himself. He had to keep going until he could at least survive. He was good at surviving, he’d spent decades hanging on by a thread- countering a wooden sword shouldn't be so difficult compared to parrying the knives from assassins or the swords of dead men walking. He’s weak.
Lloyd gets that look on his face that he only gets when he has to do something he really doesn’t want to do, mostly when he must flex his status on the others when they're being particularly stubborn. It’s a pained stony sort of expression, “That’s enough for today.” he says more firmly, shoulder squaring. He loses the soft edges of the boy he used to be, Master Lloyd filling in the spaces rigid.
Protest raises on his tongue, “The longer I go at the skill level I am at now, the more dangerous it becomes.” fear, frustration, and desperation simmers below the surface, “I am a liability on the field, I cannot stop until I can hold my own.”
“We can continue training tomorrow.” Lloyd says, unyielding. Green eyes trail down to Zanes' sore side, assessing.
He bristles and tries to tamp it down, “You do not need to go easy on me-” he starts.
Lloyd interrupts him, “Yes we do-” frustration cracking the facade of the master, the others looking on in wide eyed worry.
“Lloyd, Zane, enough.” Wu's voice rings out in sharp tones, his presence slamming the lid on the boiling over pot, “I believe I have a suggestion to solve our problem.”
Problem. Zane tries not to let that sting as he spins to face Master Wu.
The man is descending the stairs of the monastery into the courtyard, the others parting like the red sea, his cape trailing on the edge of the steps as he comes down. In his hand is-
Zanes vision tunnels, Lloyd, Kai, the others all fading away as he takes in the smooth metal, leather bound handle, the wicked curved blade- a piece of him howls, jagged and frozen fingers scrabbling at the corners of his mind, the sight of that staff is like going snowblind. All at once he’s standing in the courtyard amongst his friends and the throne room at the same time, realities overlapping in brutal contrast.
His shuriken bounces off his foot and he is thrust back into his body, his hands empty where he’d dropped his weapons in shock. Wu approaches him with the staff and he takes a shaky step backwards, wiping at his mouth with wobbling hands, half expecting to wipe away spit- salivating at just the sight of it. His wrists and fingers ache, begging him to take it in his hands.
Wu disregards his reaction, walking into his space among the group on the mat. He thunks the staff down in front of Zane, the weight of it digging into blue, like it is the answer.
He’s so spooked he doesn’t dare move, looking at it with wide eyes. Now that he’s more present, he realizes it’s nearly identical to the Staff of Forbidden Spinjitzu, except this one is notably missing the scroll that gave it the corruptive power. It’s just a staff, plain and simple.
No one says a word. Zane stares at it, trembling.
Lloyd is quiet, then, “Are you sure that this is a good idea, Master Wu?”
Wu looks sad but he’s trying to mask it, “You are their teacher, Lloyd. When Zane falters, what do you see?”
Zane is listening, sort of. He’s tracing the edge of the blade with his eyes- sharpened to a fine point, clean and perfect. It looks heavy, the whole thing does, he can nearly taste the weight of it on his tongue. He wants to take it so badly it hurts, and in the same breath he wants to cast it off the side of the mountain or freeze it solid and shatter it against the stone under his feet.
“He’s off balance. He’s compensating for a weight that’s not there.” Lloyd looks like he’s swallowed a lemon, “The shuriken are too small.” He admits.
Wu nods to the weapon in his hand, glancing from Lloyd to pin his eyes on Zane, “You’ve had a lifetime of practice with this weapon. You’ve wielded a staff longer than a shuriken or a bow, perhaps it is time to embrace that.”
Zane doesn’t even look at him. He can almost feel the whisper on the back of his mind- it’s not there, the staff is a replica without the extra power, but Zane can imagine it all the same.
He reaches out and takes it.
The feel of it in his palm is like a starburst of agony, an ice burn that jumps up the metal of his forearm and digs into the plane of his chest. Flickers of memories flash in his mind's eyes all like looking through a pane of frosted ice-glass, cold seeping into his skeleton. A memory rises unbidden, a man he did not freeze, who had been close enough to strike with the blade- red red red
He chucks it across the courtyard without thinking, staggering away from it, “I can’t.” he nearly gags, before darting past Wu and Lloyd and narrowly avoiding Coles worried brush of his fingers. He takes the stairs two at a time, throwing open the front door and not bothering to shut it behind him.
He holes himself away in his room, sitting on the floor next to his bed, trying to hold himself together.
Too much too soon, the staff wrenched memories he’d been ignoring and hiding away free.
He doesn’t want to admit it, wants to choke it down and pretend it didn’t happen, but he can’t deny that- even with the pain and shame and bloody wounded guilt overwhelming him- taking that staff had felt like coming home.
Home was supposed to be Ninjago. Somewhere along the way, it became the throne room, too. He’d been split in half, pieces of him trapped in a realm he could never return to. The closest he’d ever get to sating the pervasive homesick itch is to hold a facsimile of his tool of violence.
Perhaps it is time to embrace that Wu had said, holding out the weapon he’d bloodied his hands with.
Evening comes and goes, and he skips dinner again. He’s crawled into bed at some point, staring up at the ceiling, trying hard not to think. He swallows down the threatening urge to crack under it all. In the darkness, he stares at his palms.
Vex is standing at his side, the throne room an open doorway behind them, and the staff is a curling presence he’s never without. It’s hard to think about these memories because he doesn’t form thoughts like he did when he was broken, the memories jagged and warped. Trying to understand is like catching a blade you’ve dropped- a falling knife has no handle. It hurts.
But in this memory he and Vex are walking through the palace hall. Grand windows might as well be painted white with the snow obscuring the now frozen wasteland, but the Emperor had no desire to see the outside world, or anything at all. This is before he had snuffed out the rising rebellions, this is before he’d flexed his power and made the people afraid, this is before they’d even given him the moniker Ice Emperor. He is nameless now, even Vex only calls him by his title. He doesn’t even know he is missing something so vital.
Vex says, “You don’t need to worry about the inconsequential things,” he’s a step behind Zane, and when his emperor slows he can prod him so he keeps moving, “You are an instrument of power, these things are beneath you. I will handle the day-to-day for you, my Emperor.”
The click of his staff ticks across the hall as they walk, “And what am I to handle?”
“Nothing. Simply keep your hold on our eternal winter, and raise your staff when I ask it of you.”
There's a stirring of thought in the empty caverns of his head and not a hint of it is kind, “I am your attack dog, then.”
To his credit, Vex doesn’t falter, “You are my Emperor.” he says immediately, and then- carefully, and almost genuinely curious, “What do you have to offer other than violence?”
Zane lays in bed and stares at the shapes in the dark that might be his hands. Shurikens don’t fit right any more, his arrows shoot askance. If the next threat arises in the morning, what can he do except cost his friends focus?
He is a bleeding wound. They need to treat him gently and delicately- but life is not gentle and delicate, and perhaps it is time to take a knife over a fire and cauterize the injury.
He slips and goes horizontal and his blood spills across the dirt. It’s metaphorical until it’s not and the newest adversary forgoes fake wooden swords for real ones, sharpened blades sinking home. If he were human he would bleed red blood. He’s not human, so it’s oil and coolant and hydraulic fluid seeping into the soil.
He is a liability. Weak-link. He has to learn to fight again. He has to embrace it, even if it feels like frostbite chipping away at him, even if it hurts. Vex had forged him into a knife, forced him into the shape of a blade and sharpened him with blood instead of water, if he can accept these pieces he can make himself useful once more. It was all he had.
He wants to feel strong again.
Morning comes in slanting lights though his window, the blanket is too hot under them. He hadn’t slept enough but he rolls out of bed and changes into a clean gi anyway and trails out of his room. Conversation falls hushed when he comes into the kitchen, and he eats breakfast despite the way his stomach churns- it tastes like it always tastes, bland and unappetizing. The ache in his side had faded over the night, nearly non-existent. He can spar fresh.
“We didn’t think you’d be joining us today.” Nya tries, smiling over her bagel.
He doesn’t shrug, putting his fork down, “I meant what I said. I cannot stop until I can protect myself.”
Nya’s face grows pinched and worried, “You can, though.” She reaches across the table and sets her hand on top of his, and she doesn’t jolt or comment at all about how cold he is, “You can take a break, Zane.”
Wu had called him a problem. Zane knows that’s not what he meant, but it weighs his shoulders like lead, and he doesn’t respond. He stands up and takes his plate to the sink, and her hands falls flat against the table.
The staff is sitting on the porch, leaned up against the wall. He focuses on it the moment they walk outside, and Jay ducks his head nervously- he was probably supposed to put it away so Zane didn’t see it again, but they thought he was going to skip like he had the first few days after he’d come home. Never put off until tomorrow what can be done today.
They do warm-ups, then Lloyd pairs them up for sparring, and his eyes skate over Zane reluctantly until, “Cole… Zane. Come spar.” The others don’t need for Lloyd to supervise them, or the training mat. Zane needs both.
They both go to the weapons and Cole, like Kai yesterday, avoids his hammer. He reaches for the wooden training swords but Zane catches his wrist.
He looks up, startled, “Zane?” He asks, confused.
He manhandles his hand over to the grip of his hammer, “Do not hold back.” He says firmly, and then jogs up the stairs and wraps his fingers around the staff.
Expecting it this time, he compartmentalizes the memories the instant they surface, shoving them back. In the absence of pain there is comfort, the weight so achingly familiar a hole inside of him he didn’t know he had is filled. Like coming home, he’d felt it yesterday. Confidence pours into his system- he knows how to hold this, to swing this, to fight with this. He picks it up and it’s perfectly balanced, a missing limb reattached.
Carrying it down the stairs, he’s aware of their stares.
Kai and Nya break formation, moving back to give Cole and Zane room. Jay follows their lead, and they settle back to watch.
Cole is holding his hammer and his expression is grim, “Are you sure you can handle this?”
He feels like he’s being filled with ice, chill threatening to frost over his eyes. He’s not sure at all, but he says, “Don’t hold back.” Again anyway.
Shurikens are small. To fight, he has to stand back, give space, evade and dodge. Bow and arrows are much the same. They are largely defensive. Before the Never Realm, he was good at defense.
“Whenever you’re ready.” Lloyd says and Zane carefully tunes out the apprehension in his voice.
Now he is more comfortable on the offense.
He moves.
The Ice Emperor rarely fights in close combat- he rarely fights at all, actually. He waves his staff and freezes, he calls ice and allows that to do the work for him, but when he does face off one on one, he does so as brutally efficiently as he can. He is all offense, blow after blow after unrelenting blow- he pours bone-shattering strength into each strike, driving rebellion leaders to their knees, knocking back a town's most elite soldiers, and if they don’t go down on the first hit he wastes no time lashing out again. He rushes his opponent, he overwhelms them, and he offers not a single second of reprieve.
He hauls back, crossing the mat in half a second, and slices through the air in a clean and powerful swing. The crack of his staff against the handle of Cole's hammer sounds like a gunshot with the terrible force behind it, and before Cole can gather his bearing he swings again.
He beats him back faster than he expected- Cole underestimated him, and it cost him precious ground. He tries to put distance between them to get a moment to make his move, but Zane is with him step for step, suffocating any moves before they can breathe.
To fight with his shuriken or his bow is like oil against his water, they don’t mix now that the staff has imprinted itself onto his mind. He cannot reconcile the difference, not yet. He compensates for the weight of the staff, keeps his balance, and advances on his target with brutal efficiency.
He sweeps his leg out while splitting Cole's attention with a strike intended for his side, and Cole goes down with a startled shout. Zane twists the staff so the flat side of the blade is sitting on his chest- the intent is clear, but there’s no danger he’ll accidentally cut him. It’s over in heartbeats, and Cole looks up at him, astonished.
“Holy moly.” Jay breathes.
Zane moves the blade aside, shifting the staff to hold it upright. He glances over at Lloyd, who looks a shade paler than before the fight, whose eyes are a bit too wide. He was the only one who’d seen the Ice Emperor in action, and the last time he’d held the blade against someone's chest it had been him- sharp side down, the intent had been clear then, too. Zane averts his eyes, guilt threatening the progress he’d made even picking the staff up, and focused on holding out a hand so he could bring Cole back to his feet.
Cole winces as he pulls him up, “Zane…” He says, staggering, “That was like nothing I've ever seen from you.” He flexes his fingers, the blows stinging his hands even now.
He doesn’t flinch or shy away from his friends' looks, “It’s how I fought.” He’s hoping he doesn’t have to put any more context to that sentence, he doesn’t want to say the Never Realms name out loud.
“How?” Nya asks, “You left so many openings, how did you win?”
“Overwhelming force.” Zane says.
“The openings mean nothing if I can’t even swing.” Cole shakes his head.
Master Wu smiles from the doorway, “Very impressive, Zane."
The pieces of himself snapped clean down the middle don’t mend, but they aren’t bleeding anymore either. Satisfaction, purpose, strength floods his system. He is not striped with dirt or bruises, he is no longer a failure- he is formidable, dangerous. He can fight, now.
What does he have to offer other than violence?
Zane cannot be the man he was before, but he can be a weapon. He can't remember any other way to be.
The staff sits comforting in his hand.
I like to call myself wound
but I will answer to knife.
Underbelly by Nicole Homer
#zane julien#lloyd garmadon#wu ninjago#ninjago#ns11#zangst#cole ninjago#kai ninjago#spinchip fic#vex ninjago#ptsd#blood
189 notes
·
View notes
Note
head scratches e and g
Confessions
Book: Open Heart: Third Year
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure)
Word Count: 1399
Rating: G
Category: fluff, hurt/comfort
Trope(s): and they were in the office
Summary: MC has been feeling unsteady, and Ethan has finally noticed.
No Warnings
A/N: this turned into a post ch 4 (bk 3) fic. Because I’m a little disappointed that PB didn’t let us talk to Ethan about the weird shit he was doing with Harper. Also look at me, once again using a one word title, because I suck at titles and its 3 am and I’m too tired to try to come up with something better.
The sun sets outside the floor to ceiling windows, casting the diagnostics office a dance of shadows and lights. Ethan gets up from the desk, walking over to shut off the fluorescent lights leaving the room in growing darkness. He rolls his neck as he returns to the desk, turning on the lamp on the wooden surface.
He’s felt a migraine forming all afternoon, since Leland’s bombshell that Ethan’s rival would now be joining his team. The sense that all control is steadily slipping through his fingers, growing by the day, by the hour it seems.
What was promised to be a democracy was now nothing but a dictatorship disguised in new equipment and pay raises.
Ethan closes his eyes, leaning back in the chair, desperately trying to cling onto the thoughts of the one good and stable thing he has left.
Genevieve.
“How are you feeling?”
A soft voice breaks through the silence, Ethan opening his eyes to see the very thing he was thinking of standing in the doorway. A pleasant warmth runs through him, he’s not a man that believes in fate, but there is something utterly divine in the way she appears at the very moment he needs her.
Genevieve walks to the desk, every step that brings her closer settling the anxiety and rage boiling inside him. She smiles sweetly at him, perching herself on his desk.
“Like I’m slowly losing control.” Ethan sits up, a hand coming to rest on her knee, thumb tracing circles on her skin. “It’s bad enough we have to deal with Bloom, but now I have to contend with Tobias as his lapdog, as well.”
“You have me, though,” Her green eyes fill with warmth as she leans forward, holding his cheek delicately in her hand. “And I’ll always be on your side.”
“I know. I’m incredibly thankful for that, believe me.”
They share a smile, that four letter word swirling around his head for the umpteenth time as they get lost in each other. Gen breaks the spell, hopping off the desk and settling in his lap. His arms come around her without a second thought, pulling her impossibly closer.
“How can I help?” Her words are nothing more than a whisper as her fingers trace his jawline.
“There’s nothing you can do, unfortunately.”
“I can at least try and alleviate some stress. It’s what girlfriends are for, after all.”
The word girlfriend sparks something inside him, setting his heart into a rapid beat. They haven’t discussed terms, which is mostly his fault. In the moments when he has Gen alone, he spends the time doing everything but talking. The need to make up for the months he had spent pushing her away taking precedence over defining what they are to each other. But he knows they need to have that talk soon, he can see her growing impatient and hesitant with each passing day.
Gen takes off his glasses, tossing them onto the desk. She threads her fingers in his hair, scratching lightly as she goes. He closes his eyes again, forehead coming to rest on her shoulder as her fingers continue to weave through his hair.
“I meant what I said at lunch, G. Just having you in the room makes me feel more at peace.”
“Should I stop then?”
“Absolutely not.” He kisses the side of her neck, nuzzling sweetly. “I will take any and all forms of affection from you.”
“Quite the difference from last year, Doctor ‘We Need a Reset’.”
“We all have a lapse in judgment from time to time.”
“Mhm.” He can feel her giggle, his arms tightening around her.
They settle into an easy quiet, drawing comfort from a shared space.
As much as he wants to get lost in her touch, he can’t help but fall back to the thoughts of Gen’s newfound uncertainty. Ethan’s half sure it has something to do with him, but he hopes more than anything that it’s not. Praying instead that it all falls to the new easy comradery of the team and the ever growing changes their employer makes.
He wants nothing more than for Genevieve to confide in him, lean on him in the same way he leans on her.
“Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you lately?”
“It’s not important anymore.”
“I beg to differ, Gen.” He presses a kiss to her shoulder before lifting his head to look at her. “You’ve been tossing and turning every night for a week. Something is wrong.”
“I don’t want to ruin the moment or make you feel more stressed.”
“So it’s me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” His brows furrow at her lack of honesty, she’s never been this closed off before. Its unnerving and so unlike her. Fear settles deep in his bones as their eyes meet, the need to find a solution growing with every second that passes. “I can���t fix it if you aren’t forthcoming.”
“It’s already fixed, kind of.” She sighs, adverting her eyes from him again. “Harper more or less set things straight.”
“Harper?” Ethan tilts his head, face scrunched in confusion.
“I was... feeling unsteady, about my place on the team and with you.”
“With me? The team I can understand, but I thought things were fine between us.”
Her face drops, taking a breath. “You really have no idea?”
Gen gets up from his lap, moving back to her previous spot on the desk. The distance she places between them is small, but enough to make his heart ache fiercely.
“Let’s put it this way, if my ex joined the team and I spent more time reminiscing about our history - weddings and flamenco lessons and dates at some intimate bistro named after a freaking Disney character - and you had to sit here, constantly interrupted, looked over and forced to listen to every second of it, how would you feel?”
“I was doing that to you.” The pain he feels is instant, regret following quickly after. “I didn’t realize.”
“Which, if I’m being honest, Ethan, makes it hurt ten times more. Because that says that you didn’t think of me or my feelings at all.”
He wants to jump up and dispute her claims. She’s the only thing he thinks of on most days and it kills him that he’s somehow made her feel the opposite.
“I don’t care that you’re friends with your ex, Harper is wonderful. But when you sit here and talk about dates you went on and veer off topic to bring up some inside joke, it makes me feel like you don’t respect me or our relationship. Like this is a casual fling you could quickly let go off and not a committed relationship. Like I’m an afterthought and that isn’t fair to me.”
Ethan stands from his chair, unable to cope with the distance between them any longer. He steps in front of her, holding her face in his hands. “This isn’t causal, Gen. Far from it. And you’re not an afterthought, you never have been.”
“Yeah, well actions speak louder than words and half of your actions lately say otherwise.”
“You’re right. I was being inconsiderate and tactless” He can see by the way she pulls away that his words aren’t enough. If he’s going to really set things back into place, Gen is going to need a real apology.
Ethan lets out a breath, holding her gaze for a long moment. “It was wrong of me to do that to you, even worse that I did it without realizing. Your thoughts and feelings are important to me, they take precedence. I’m sorry, Genevieve. Truly. It won’t happen again.”
“Thank you.” She reaches for his hand, interlacing their fingers.
“Not that there’ll be a next time, but should I do something this imbecilic again, feel free to call me out on it sooner rather than later.”
“Trust me, I will.”
Her smile returns, brighter than it was when she’d walked in ten minutes ago. Ethan leans forward, pressing his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. He gets bolder when she sighs, as she opens up to him and threads her fingers through his hair.
“This is teetering towards a pg-13 rating.” Gen mutters against his lips, their foreheads pressed together as they catch their breaths. “Take me home.”
“Whatever you want, Rookie.”
a/n: it took me all week to get this to a point where I liked it enough to post it. But we did it and I like it enough.
Tag Lists:
Perma: @terrm9 @potionsprefect @iemcpbchoices @archxxronrookie @coffeeheartaddict @queencarb @lucy-268 @custaroonie @maurine07 @gryffindordaughterofathena @ohchoices @choicesaddict5 @fireycookie @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @oldminniemcg @sizzlingcashherohumanoid @taniasethi @mrs-ramsey @shanzay44 @aussieez @stygianflood @uneravine @openheartfan @fayeswiftie @stateofgracious @sophxwithers @estellaelysian @mm2305 @withbeautyandrage @udishaman @mercury84choices @silma-words @headoverheelsforramsey @iloveethanramsey
Fic: @overwhelminglyaquarius @me-and-my-choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @drakewalkerfantasy @adrex04 @drariellevalentine @openheartthot @caseyvalentineramsey @aworldoffandoms @dulceghernandez @elwetritsche75 @emotionalswift2 @thegreentwin @starrystarrytrouble @utterlyinevitable @angela8754 @jooous @3riche @open-heart-ramseyy @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @alexabeta @smilex1104 @arnikki-2406 @jamespotterthefirst @openheartfanfics
#ethan ramsey x mc#ethan x mc#open heart#open heart fanfiction#Anonymous#asked and answered#ethan x gen#intimacy prompts
146 notes
·
View notes
Text
in the gravity of you
Lucifer has come to Raphael’s garden in shambles. A maelstrom of sorts, frenetic almost. His vermillion feathers twitch heedlessly, hands trembling.
Ficlet inspired by this post!
Rating: G (Gen Lucifer & Raphael)
No warnings apply.
Short Ficlet & Playlist available on AO3! (Feel free to read under the cut, however!)
Raphael doesn’t know how to offer comfort to his brother when he’s like this.
Tears, he can handle. Ranting, it’s not a problem. Assistance, in a heartbeat. It’s always been an unrewarded gift of Raphael’s: alleviation, healing for the anguished—Though, Raphael found his compensation within each time he offered open arms to his archangelic brothers. He took great lengths to establish to them that he would always be willing to listen and help in ways he could.
It’s different this time.
Lucifer has come to Raphael’s garden in shambles. A maelstrom of sorts, frenetic almost. His vermillion feathers twitch heedlessly, hands trembling. Pale skin tainted, famished septicity branched like crepuscular veins under his flesh. The whites of scarlet eyes have blackened and are leaking, an execrable liquid of certain contamination. An infected bird carrying histoplasmosis, concealed fungal spores rotted and festered.
He’s not the only being to enter the garden; Lucifer brings a presence with him. Dark matter perhaps, for it is unseeable and untouchable. An aphotic entity of esoteric damnation. Vile and infernal. It lurks in the shadows, perhaps internally bound. Within the cloak of dark energy enveloping the Morningstar, a searing smoulder of a sigil resides alight like boiling blood upon Lucifer's befouled skin—the Mark. Raphael freezes within its flames.
The perception scares him: Lucifer is no longer. The angel who had helped raise Raphael, the angel that once clung to his advice and that granted Raphael peace of mind, had vanished. The malignant being that stood before him was foreign, not a wink of his brother left. Unsalvageable. Raphael can only observe as Lucifer's lips move, a once-soothing voice he grew accustomed to now blaringly unfamiliar. Even the garden seems to retreat from the sick shadow, a seep of acidic fear seeping into their lively roots.
Stand with me.
His words are soft, soft but sharp, and he keeps speaking. Raphael can’t find it in himself to make the rest of it out. His garden is weeping, his own grace feels strangely cynical. The more Lucifer speaks, the faster inflamed blisters and decayed skin become visible and flake from his being. Moldering, putrefying, falling away. Infected. Raphael can't bear to look at it.
An ailing archangel, a rotted corpse that talks. Raphael refuses it.
──『✙』──
It’s surreal, a breathing nightmare. Raphael has nothing as excruciating to compare it to; Enduring his big brother’s haunting shrieks of distress as he falls is undoubtedly the worst thing Raphael had ever experienced.
Raphael contemplates if he made the right decision.
Maybe if he were next to him, if he had been there to reassure him, to aid him, then Lucifer would be okay.
That was Raphael’s job, wasn’t it? His duty, his obligation to Heaven and his brothers. Raphael had promised Lucifer that he would continuously be there to console him, to heal him —and he’d failed miserably in the worst way possible. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what Lucifer had been thinking, feeling, when he plummeted from Home.
As time slugs by, Raphael continues to ponder on his decision. Gabriel has left, Michael is in ruins. And the infected bird is caged.
A bird he couldn’t heal. Though, in his weaker moments, Raphael starts to question if he was ever infected to begin with.
A past compulsory perception, a groomed choice. Coerced; What could have pushed his awareness to the point of fungal affliction? Lucifer had appeared pristine under the flames of his own wings, alien to the ill maleficence he had seen standing in his garden. The idea frightened Raphael.
The reflective thought that Lucifer’s dark matter had not at all been nefarious or rotted— The thought that Lucifer had instead been scared. The thought that Lucifer had come to him as a cry for help. The thought that Lucifer had been so quickly rejected and was made to suffer. A broken promise on Raphael's part.
Would it be so bad to fall beside his brother if it meant keeping his word? Had he been hallucinating in his own garden? What did Lucifer know that Heaven seemingly did not?
Raphael prays to Lucifer for answers— He prays for forgiveness.
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
i'm very interested in how you would change ro (especially since i totally agree with the post you made about her). do you mind sharing?
nonsie I would absolutely love to share. I've mentioned for a while that the ogres feel flat and that Ro's character has become repetitive, but I don't think I ever explained what I'd want to do with her given the chance.
my main grievance boils down to me wanting her to acknowledge her weaknesses. a soldier with the confidence of a god is only interesting to a certain point and becomes boring, but someone who can look at themselves and acknowledge their faults and work on them is infinitely more interesting and explorable to me. this is something we see with literally every soldier like character, and I'm just over it. Sandor and Grizel frequently bicker about their talents and who could beat each other, Bo, Ro, and Sandor try to one up each other and just say they could beat each other with nothing more to it.
I can accept and actually encourage this confidence in Ro up to a point, especially when she's first introduced. it makes sense. she's entering a hostile situation, surrounded by people who hate her--there is literally no one open to her at that time. Not even the other ogre. having that front of composed strength, so secure in herself she has the time to get invested in the little, unimportant things (complaining about elves and their culture), it gives her security in a way. But we've gotten past a lot of that. now it's stubborn and a refusal to change that will get her killed. I think it nearly did in Nightfall.
second thing i want to change: emotional vulnerability and awareness. What we've (or at least I've) been talking about recently is how she doesn't care how her actions affect others. Now, I don't think empathy is the solution to this, not for her. Empathy isn't necessary to be conscious and considerate of others and its ableist to think it is. So many people without natural empathy make deliberate decisions to be aware of and caring towards others every day. if Ro is going to be this highly intelligent trained soldier, i think it would make more sense for her to have a technical approach to emotions. to be trained to assess her soldiers and how they're doing and what she needs to do to support them to get them through the mission. right now she's just doing what she wants with no regard to the real impact it has on Sophie and keefe. i want her to use these skills to look at the situation and step back. talk to each of them seriously, individually. assess it. and then decide what she'll do next.
for the vulnerability part, I want her to have a real goal she's working towards. something she enjoys outside of just being threatening. something she does in her free time just for her. considering she's been in three and a half books we really don't know that much about her. I also want her to make an effort for an emotion she has to be understood outside of confidence and a sense of superiority. she doesn't fit in anywhere she goes, that's something sophie can relate to. I want them to form a legitimate relationship based on genuine shared experiences. right now we know she eventually wants to be queen, but with her father still alive that's a distant personal goal. maybe she wants to develop a new type of microorganism, or figure out how to make her own weapons, or anything that has personal meaning. we don't have that from her right now (that I can think of) and I think it's a big...letdown? i can't think of the right word. disappointment? like she doesn't live up to her potential and we were rooting for her but she fell short.
finally, I want her rebellion to be more deliberate. right now it feels like she's rebellious and plays with knives just because she can. i started to touch on this in the tags of a previous post where i was saying I love her for her potential. i have a soft spot for rebellious characters, but I want it to be intelligent misbehavior and criticism. she's so close yet so far. she doesn't like how sparkly and crystalline the elven world is. okay, but why? i'd make it about politics or something similar. maybe she doesn't like the crystal infrastructure because the constant harvesting is damaging to land important to her people. maybe the bright colors make it inaccessible to other species (life dwarves).
she thinks elves look boring and plain? okay, why is that a problem? maybe it's because the repetition off their species erases individuality and she values who people are and not who society wants them to be. she gets tattoos because she fully believes her body is just that: a body. she doesn't need to be careful and deliberate and sacred with it (nothing wrong if you are like that), and not every piece of art on it needs to have deep meaning. she does her tattoos herself? maybe it's because she wants to challenge the idea that everything meaningful needs to be done the "right" way.
I think Ro could be a great avenue for a lot of meaningful messages about nonconformity and individual thought, but she's gotten stuck into this box of being the Sokeefe shipper and messing around with teen drama. i want her to exist outside of that. this is not to say that every individual thing she does needs to be profound or have a secretive message behind it, but I think some of them should be more than just rebellion for the sake of it.
I'll stop here before this post gets any longer, but these are just some of the thoughts I have about what I'd want to do with Ro in relation to the series. as possible future queen she has reason to be more than just this character meant to further a ship and make everyone uncomfortable in the process. i think there's a lot of potential for her that hasn't been used yet.
is there anything you'd want to do with her or that you think Shannon should've done to add depth to her character? /gen. I kinda threw a lot at you so thought i'd give you this opportunity to respond if you wanted !!
#thinking about what i'd do with ro makes me want to get some work done on a few of my ocs#i need to redesign a lot of them and rework them#but thinking about the depth i would add to ro is inspiring me#we'll see if that carries over into tomorrow or even if i'll have time despite motivation#I have another class starting tomorrow so#we'll see#probably a lot of reading for that one#hmm#i love homework /s#one day maybe i'll share something about them#there's just!!#so much potential i can see in ro#that isn't being realized in favor of shipping#and it infuriates me#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc ro#quil's queries#nonsie#long post
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
every day I see people or mutuals of mutuals and I Must Resist Befriending them because this exactly thing happens so often. congrats you're the newest victim!! please ramble about your stories my eyes and ears are open and ready to receive the inevitable magnificence of your writing ability
OHG HII ok imma talk abt my 3 fav stories rn under the cut leta go
Tws for hunters: implied suicidal thoughts, implied homelessness
Tws for unspeakable: sex mentions and implied sexual abuse
Tws for boiling over: abuse, murder, drugging, assault, self harm ment, self hate
OK first is hunters, I used to never shut up about this story (it still is my most full story tag 💀) but I haven't talked as much about it lately I feel? Here's main cast my beloveds
Hunters is a monster of the week style monster hunting story about 4 humans protecting their city from magical threats! Honestly pls read the s1 villain summaries after this they're my beloveds even if I don't have any extra interesting things to talk about with them on this post 😭💞
Anyways THE HUNTERS THEMSELVES from left to right that's gabby, an 11 year old girlscout who has a sword and is super motivated and wants to do EVERYTHING but can't cus she's 11 and ppl won't let her 😔
then there's peter who a 40 year old depressed museum worker/weaver who honestly didn't ask to be here but who gets dragged along by gabby and genny. They hang out with gabby because they has a cookie addiction, are a mentor figure to her (for girlscouts related volunteer reasons), and also cus she was kind of the only thing keeping them alive pre-story (gabby doesn't know this tho and peter ain't telling her.) Peter is kind of the kind of person who likes to lone wolf their own things, so they struggle to get along with genny and gabby who both have very dominant leaders personalities.
Next is hash, ultra anxious 15 year old girl, she's an artist a lesbian and a nervous wreck but she likes monster hunting because shockingly it makes her feel more in control of her life (she's scared out of her mind of monsters, but she's also terrified of her home life and at least monsters she can like, hit with a sword or genuinely run away from.) She ends up being the introvert adopted by all the other three, gabby becomes her best friend, genny metaphorically adopts her cus she's baby (genny was originally mean to hash cus she saw herself in her, but at some point gens was like 'wtf am I doing this is literally just a pathetic incredibly stressed teen I should be protecting her not making her life worse'), and peter LITERALLY adopts her a little ways into s2 (she kind of starts living with them late s1 but adoption wasn't a super easy process :P.)
And finally genny tall queen, single mom of a 3 year old (and then later a second fish baby who she found dead in a sewer who got resurrected with fish magic, long story) who is very very sweet to kids being a tutor and mother, but who will absolutely kick adult villains asses lol. She's honestly generally kind of mean at first, but it's mostly cus she's self conscious and needs everything to be perfect so she can kind of put others down to try and make things everyone's fault but her own. Ah don't worry, she gets character developement :3
Peter also gets a boyfriend at the end of season 1 (said boyfriend being the villain who was trying to seduce peter by fighting his "family" (the other hunters) for the first season. I'd say he has bad taste by that description but tbf prince has a whole arc or whatever. Why am I saying or whatever he's literally my favorite monsters223 character 😭 ohg this post isn't about him tho.) Prince is a ghostly boi from the underworld whos just absolutely head over heels for peter. Hes a demon history and language nerd, a romantic dork, and a good cook although he's not always up to it cus he has ~chronic pain~. Yeah hes in that villain post I linked if u wanna look at him beautiful face [edit: WAIT U HAVE SEEN PRINCE I FORGOT HIM FACE IS MY ICON :O ]
Universe tag: monsters223
Story tag: hunters223
Character tags: gabby garner, peter, hash brown, genny, prince
Blinkie:
Ok NEXT imma talk about unspeakable my beloved it's main character is peck who uve probably seen cus pea likes him but here's the beloved him
He is a character I used to plan on never talking about but then randomly became a deranged amounts of obsessed with (/pos) and then drew 8 million times and like wrote out his whole life story and stuff which u do not have to read cus I wrote it one night at 3 am and haven't double fact checked since so it's probably a mess LOL
He's a lil succubus lad who goes on adventures and seduces ppl, he's peppy and somewhat silly and def has a bunch of unprocessed childhood trauma (this is why I put his old math teacher on the punchability list <3) that caused his hypersexuality (not every succubus is hypersexuality, like his best friend bray is actually very sex repulsed because of being a succubus.) He has a couple longer term partners: his life partner wings whos a short ancient angel he found out sleeping in the woods when he was like 14 and has stuck with since. They're repairing a house together over by the beach (unspeakable main setting is a town in a forest which has farmland and a beach a short walk through the forest land.) There's his boyfriend Red who he's just constantly been on and off with since they were in highschool, hes a gamer boy who likes frog and is currently studying to become a highschool teacher, although that's not super important since I haven't got too much into writing adult red yet. Then Angel has been pecks boyfriend since he was like 18, but they're like part time boyfriends lol, peck visits when he can but it's taken him a hot while to convince angel to ever come back to town with non-angels and angel still isn't fully sold on spending good amounts of time there (tbf to him he is nine feet tall and kinda has overheating problems outside his part of the forest, like human society isn't exactly convenient for him.) He's a real sweetheart, he adores peck and peck adores him. Pecks most recent boyfriend is mail, who's currently my fav unspeakable character 😚 kitty mailman but not exactly in a cute little cat boy way, this is him:
So big boy!!!! Also vaguely cryptid boy, cat species generally grow up in the woods and his lil racoon face with the sideburns just adds to that vibe. Anyways hes the one of the longtime bfs (and general love interests) who peck has the hardest time seducing bcus hez very much like, a tired 40 year old man who isn't interested in sex and romance he just wants to deliver the mail and stuff buuuut he slowly starts to grow fond of peck :3. Next partner isn't a boyfriend as much, it's more of an alterous relationship but peck still calls him his boyfriend, vinnie/vignette. Mail and him are sort of partners in work (and later just partners in life in general) and he's a lil satyr mail deliverer! He's demosexual and his getting with peck was slow, he was oblivious of the fact that peck was like, ACTUALLY flirting with him at first cus he just thinks (kind of rightfully so) peck is just like that with everyone. At some point he suddenly gains consciousness and is like "wait a minute he's kind of hot hh?????" and that leads to yknow. Things. So yeah they go on dates and stuff but like I said ~alterously~ cus vinnie doesn't feel exactly romantic things in general he is just? Idk who needs labels he's just him. Also ngl I'm obsessed with mail trio lately so fuck it look at vinnie too he's cute
BABY U ARE MY ANGELLLL
Yeah anyways unspeakable has story arcs and plot things tasty worldbuilding (look at species chart I lov them even if I missed sirens and unicorns and what not) but at the moment my brain is just consumed by the peck polycule so that's all u get to hear about lol
Universe tag: n/a (no other stories in universe)
Story tag: unspeakable
Character tags (not everyone has tags yet cus barely anyone has names 😭): peck, red, mail, vignette
Blinkie:
LAST STORY u might like this one cus ik you've reblogged some pics of cayanne, my beloved boy who's ass I constantly kick, whos from this story 😚💕💞💞💞
He never did anything wrong and yet he gets this shit 😔 I just like destroying him lol
Boiling over is a horror (well it's half horror and half parody horror, once we get to victim gang I'm more just having a fun time bein silly with horror tropes than anything lol.) I'm not actually gonna talk about victim gang rn cus I'm mostly in a kai and vanilla mood, so I'm gonna talk about them :3
Vanilla: very cute little guy who's Marshall's beloved baby brother who would definitely never hurt anyone! Except he does 😇
he's actually the absolute worst to cayanne with a big ol smile on his face. He really likes control, he's incredibly obsessive over his brother marshall and best friend/joyfriend kath. He likes having Marshall under his thumb, not to even do anything really, he just needs his comfort person around. What leads him to do not so great things is the fear of losing his favorite people, he has frequently purposefully and secretly poisoned or injured Marshall to avoid him going on trips and to keep him trapped in the house where vanilla can take care of him and make him love his little brother more. Marshall is totally oblivious, he honestly believes that what's making him get sick is just the stress from becoming more popular and successful in his baseball career and having a lot of pressure put on him, if anything he's just so glad his sweet baby brother is helping him get through it! Kath is less oblivious, I won't get into what vanilla does to kath cus I simply do not want to, but kath is very happy to punish him which vanilla actually loves partially because he thinks he deserves to be hurt but mostly because he's a masochist. (Ps kath also sucks lol they murder and torture people :]))
Cayanne is Marshall's boyfriend, he's also a baseball player. He plays up his big ego and acts like he's the hottest shit ever, he's always confident and totally doesn't have an incredibly fragile self esteem that relies entirely on winning /s. Hes a bit of a mess and super competitive and kind of hates himself, but he always has got to be strong and cool and never break. Vanilla absolutely hates kai, because he finds kai pathetic and Marshall loves kai, which makes vanilla very jealous (of how much attention kai gets I mean, not in an incestuous way ew. Vanilla is ew in general but not in that specific field.) So umg he ends up sort of, hurting kai and threatens him not to talk abt it with black mail. But kai kind of has a very difficult relationship with pain and ends up sort of coming back to vanilla, because despite how gross he feels vanilla was the first person who made him feel like the part of him that was pathetic, a sore loser, etc. was something not just worth acknowledging but something to be prioritized and given room to be expressed. They have a veryyy unhealthy relationship to say the least, cayanne feels very guilty for it but vanilla doesn't really, frankly as far as he cares if anything ever comes out about it he'll blame kai for everything and finally get to have Marshall cut kai out of his life. To be honest Marshall would probably side with cayanne if he found out, but cayanne honestly doesn't think he would so he's afraid to speak up about anything <:)
Yes very sorry for not talking about kath and the gang 😔 to summarize the rest of the gang:
Luke is kath and vanillas friend who's spent his whole life in danger and can basically turn off his humanity because his existence is so buried is defense mechanisms. He does have a personality tho, he's pretty flirty, he likes food, he's just your average casual cool guy who you are screaming at your screen to his non murderer friends that he is OBVIOUSLY leading them on to betray them.
Kath is a depressed bastard who likes digging around in garbage and torturing people cus hearing people scream is basically all that makes xem feel anything anymore. Xe especially takes a liking to kai and nessa, but they're glad to fuck with Emory and Jake too, equality. They dont touch Marshall cus vanilla would be pissed at xem and they want to keep vanilla around. Besides Marshall is teaching them to bake, it's the first hobby they've felt any real interest in years. Oh yeah they're also with kai and Marshall on the whole baseball thing.
Victim gangggg Jake is a repressed trans lesbian who's eyesight is shit and who as such is constantly recording everything cus they see better looking through their phone camera than with their eyes (get this kid some glasses please.) They have a crush on vanessa, who's ur average scaredy cat horror girl, she likes statistics and hanging out with her gang exploring scary places. (What? She likes being scared, she may be easily freaked out but that doesn't mean it's not fun for her when she's not Literally Being Murdered lol.) Luke is also in victim gang but I already sorta talked about him, and the Emory is nessas big step brother/sibling, they're a peer pressure king and just wants people to think he's cool and brave, but because they're an absolute dumbass this leads them to dangerous stupid ass situations. Also kai is an unofficial part of the victim gang, hes their supervisor since they're all like 16 or 17 or whatever and Emorys mom is tired of him going out and getting hurt so she's patronizing them and nessa by basically forcing a babysitter on them lol.
Universe tag: n/a again
Story tag: boiling over
Character tags: cayanne, vanilla, marshall, kath, luke, emory, jake, vanessa
Blinkie:
To tell you the truth I don't even like boiling over that much, I just happen to be in a mood for it rn lol.
#peck#mail#vignette#hash brown#gabby garner#genny#peter#kath#cayanne#vanilla#marshall#luke#🌵#SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER I TYPED MORE THAN EXPECTED 😭 its not that often someone just says like 'talk abt ur ocs!' lol#i mostly just summarized characters but yeah#if u have any questions abt anyone here feel free to ask#but i must warn u theres a possibility it wont get answered til tommorow morning since it is like 3 am rn lol#ohgs gxof OH GOD ive been to distracted rambling about stories i havent though of an emoji tag yet#im sorry ur too new im not prepared to properly kin assign an emoji to u ill come back and add one when i make the decision#usually people lurk for months before i have to tag assign them lol#i am regretting mentioning vanilla was a comfort character on that last post considering ive now immediately launched into talking about hi#m being an abuser 😬😬😬 woops#im not a vanilla apologist vanilla and kai are just my vent characters so they're also comfort characters 😭#promise i dont talk this much in the tags normally im just very talkative today for some reason lol#i am glad i have kidnapped u as a mutual. i love stealing peas mutuals its like when u make friends with one person and then get the rest o#f your friends by just hoping u get absorbed into their friendgroup lol#monsters223#hunters223#unspeakable#boiling over
7 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ana-paul-draws
Ana Paul
timetravelersagainstkant
Immanuel Kant Was A Bastard Man
lauriechristianvacationrent-blog
Laurie Christian Vacation Rentals Ocean Shores
ashenburst
broken chords can sing a little
thehottestprewett
Fabian Prewett