#I bloody love fanfic authors

[ciaraloves]

apparently it’s fanfic writer appreciation day! thank you to all the writers that changed my life <3 you guys will never truly know how happy you make me thank you for giving us beautiful parts of yourself

in endless love and warm light,

ciara <3

#ciara’s convos #i bloody love fanfic authors

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

11 — COME BACK TO REMIND ME OF WHO I WAS

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

“I forgot how ugly he was.”

Price, beside you, raises a slightly bemused brow. Taking the binoculars from your easy grip, he too, examines the target standing on the mansion’s balcony. A cigar sits between Price’s lips, mirroring the less sophisticated Marlboro between the Lieutenant General’s.

The man, one of the few higher-ups you were somewhat close with, is a decorated Shadow Company leader. Known for his strategy and persuasion, he was always a good asset.

Shame he was always this side of too touchy, and a general ass to anyone who had a vagina. Or an inclination for the same sex.

Real pity that he’s the one with the information you need, and the one you can’t kill.

“You’re not wrong, darlin’,” Price murmurs under his breath, exhaling a puff of smoke as he slips the cigar from his mouth, the cherry burning in the dark of night.

Ghost, like usual, is found a few buildings down, sniper at the ready. Soap and Gaz were ordered to stay behind for this mission, much to their chagrin. It was the closest you’d seen Gaz fight with his Captain, and Soap was just being generally pouty.

Both you, and Price, had managed to reason that expertise in explosions and protection wasn’t exactly wanted for a quick get-and-grab.

And, maybe, a small part of you needs a break from the two Sergeants. Your night with Gaz has infected your mind, even now, the day after. And seeing him, with his bright smile and dimples and eyes made your heart skip a beat. Especially with how no one could know of your rendezvous, lest you be kicked out of the deal.

Or worse.

You swallow, once, accepting the binoculars once more when Price hands them back to you with another puff of his cigar. He’s surprisingly courteous about it, not blowing the smoke into your face.

“Lt, we have eyes on the target. Over,” you speak into your radio, eyes like a hawk as you watch the Lieutenant General shake off flakes from his cigarette over the pristine white railing. He’s shorter than most, especially considering his rank, and you can’t help a small, private smile growing on your face at that small fact.

“Been around bloody Johnny too much,” Ghost mutters, and you roll your eyes. “No hostiles spotted, you’re good to go.”

Rising into a crouch, Price gives you a curt nod, before gesturing for you to follow him. You do so with quiet movements, the only sound the barely there crunch of dirt underneath your boots.

Your previous Lieutenant General was always an uncomfortably wealthy man, and you see now what he’s chosen to do with such an abundance of money. He lives in an off-the-grid mansion, deep in the middle of nowhere, only hills and trees around him.

Those families in Las Almas, displaced and killed and ruined – they were entirely more deserving of just a fraction of this wealth. Your tongue feels coated with something sour.

Price smells like cinnamon and spice, even in his gear, and it’s a scent that settles in your belly like a warm stew. 

It’s rare, these days, to see daylight. All this recon work done well past midnight, hiding in the shadows and staying low. Not your favourite, but at the same time, it’s kind of… nice, doing this, just you and Price and the moon. No having to tiptoe around what to say around Gaz, or avoiding Soap’s innuendos.

If only it wasn’t for Ghost, too, watching over the two of you.

God, how you hated that man. His snarky comments, the roll of his eyes, his mask he refused to take off. And the way he almost looked down at you, questioned your authority, not unlike all the men you’d known. Worked alongside. Hated, too, in much the same vein.

You wonder, distantly, if he’ll ever come around. If there was at all a possibility of a civil interaction between you both, one that didn’t end in death threats or glares or passing out.

“Somethin’s on your mind.”

Head snapping up, you meet Price’s knowing blue eyes. Calculating, always aware, always ready for the worst case scenario.

“Not really, Cap,” you easily shake off in a whisper, continuing to follow him, until your backs are pressed against the beige, concrete wall. Your assault rifle is pulled to your chest, safety off.

The bandage on your cheek had been replaced just this afternoon, a soothing balm and fresh wrappings alleviating the growing itch that had been forming on your face. What was another scar, even? This one, at least, had somewhat of a neutral memory attached.

Ghost’s chest, his arms, a single threat turned into a promise.

You blink.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed if you underestimate our smarts,” Price says, low, under his breath. His words have you halting.

“Sir –”

“I know you’re used to bein’ the smartest kid in the regiment,” he continues, not unkindly, “But you’d do yourself well to remember that my boys are here for a reason, too. We know more than you give us credit for.”

His voice is deep, gruff, even in the low whisper he’s reduced to. 

A shiver erupts down your spine as you feel out where to start climbing the wall, trying not to look at the man next to you. His words – they hit a part of you that you don’t want to acknowledge.

“Never said you guys weren’t smart, Captain.”

“Actions speak louder than words, Colonel.”

You have nothing to say to that – an irony, all things considered. Instead, you jerk your head towards the bricks that’ll allow you both to scale the side of the mansion. With your gloves on, the two of you make it to the third floor, shuffling through an open window.

It’s pitch black, except for a lone light turned on in your target’s study, just down the hall.

The air is stale, stifling, potent with old filing and decade-old cologne. It has your throat feeling clogged, your eyes slightly glassy as you move towards the light, gun at the ready.

This is, you realise, the first time you’re working beside the Captain.

You’d worked in tandem, obviously, but never so closely knit like this. With him at your six, his body like a furnace when beside your own, it’s an entirely new dynamic. So different to that of his subordinates – more steady, controlled.

Ghost is silent over the radio, a small mercy, as you two find your way into the study, backs to the wall as you quickly clear the room. You never knew when a surprise could be awaiting you.

“Check the drawers, I’ll look through the shelves,” Price whispers, a direct command delivered in a raspy breath.

You nod, immediately transferring your gun to your back as you rush through the desk’s contents.

The room is dusty, obviously having seen little use in recent years, and the drawers are filled to the brim with knick knacks. Old paper clips, photos, receipts – everything, except for what you need.

“Got anything?” You find yourself asking, a harsh whisper in the still quiet of the room.

Price shakes his head, a stern movement, still searching through the shelves with a stealthy yet quickened pace. You focus back on the drawers, going through each one with efficient and expert ease. Some old gum packets, paper clips. Fuck.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your throat feels thick with dread.

The contract you were looking for – it could be the beginning of the end. You needed this like you needed air, right now, and if you didn’t find it –

“Darlin’,” Price calls, smooth but demanding. You instantly look up, drawn to the man like a moth to a flame. “We’re goin’ to find it. Stop thinkin’.”

It’s, obviously, easier said than done.

You appreciate his sentiment – the way he’s trying to guide you – but that sinking feeling of despair has you gripped in its tenuous claws; unrelenting and powerful and cruel. It feels as though everything is riding on this; like your very existence will disappear as soon as you find out the document has.

A hand on your shoulder startles you out of your thoughts.

It’s Price.

“You need to get your head in, Colonel,” he orders, his voice no longer patient or kind. This is the voice of a Captain. “I am not about to waste my time here if you can’t do your job.”

It’s exactly what you need, right now, and he knows it. You know it.

You take a breath.

And you nod.

He claps your shoulder, a firm glint in his eyes as he jerks his head towards the rest of the room. You’re running on a timer – your mini spiral an unnecessary hurdle. All you have to do is block off that side of your brain, and get the bloody job done.

Although Ghost is still silent as ever, you can feel his looming presence even without being at all in his line of sight.

It’s debilitating.

With more meticulous movements and keener eyes, you look through the drawers. Less desperate, more knowing, because if there’s any doubt that you won’t find it –

“Target is leaving the balcony – I’m ‘bout to lose sight on ‘im,” Ghost’s quick voice starts through your radio. The slight tone of worry has every inch of you on edge. Your wide eyes flicker to Price’s – whose jaw sets.

“Copy, Lieutenant,” Price murmurs, voice low.

The gun strapped to your back feels heavier than before, now, and your hand drifts to the pistol attached to your thigh. The same one that’s come in handy time and time again.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Footsteps – down the hall. Heading towards –

A hand on the scuff of your neck. A door being pulled open – pitch black.

Your heart thunders in your chest, Price’s hand pressed against your sternum, his chest against yours. The air is tight, and you’re cornered in a…

Closet.

Price pulled you into a closet – and now, you’re stuck with his thigh between yours and his arm outstretched above your head. You feel entirely weak before him, the Captain of the 141.

If it was at all in question, anymore, you would’ve considered that this would be the perfect time to kill you. To be rid of Grave’s right-hand woman, and to cut off any loose ends.

Instead, all you can feel is his warm breath against your forehead.

The footsteps pause, but the creak of the study’s door has your spine rigid all over again. Price presses in closer to you – and you don’t make a single movement. Don’t speak a single word, in case its very syllables are your undoing.

You can’t see, not in this speckled darkness, but price’s very existence feels so strong against your own that you can’t help but shudder a breath.

“Sir – You can’t possibly be serious. Use your damn brain.”

Your ex-Lieutenant General hisses into what you assume is his phone. And by his grating voice dripping with stress? There’s only one man on this Earth that he could be talking to.

Phillip Graves.

You can’t make out what your Commander says in response – not through the small, tinny voice of the phone, but you can pretty much guess his sentiment.

“Most of our men are gone! We can’t take down that bloody Task Force –” He hisses, his voice palpably furious. Without realising it, you find yourself curling in further to Price – his own head ducking down to shield you subconsciously.

The creak of the study’s floorboards, echoing under the weight of the man’s boots, makes your heart pound.

You feel not unlike a small child, hiding from their parents while the sound of yelling and smashing glasses echoes around the room. The long since buried memory of your father – before he left, before he broke your mother’s heart – of dark hair and angry, pulsing veins. The same veins you inherited.

The ones of which you wish you could carve out of your skin, just to watch the fury bleed out.

“Why the fuck is she so important? Good pussy or not –” Your heart, a thud, thud, thud, “ – She’s just a girl. She’s not worth it.”

Price’s hand tightens his hand, unconsciously clasping your throat like it’s a new necklace of yours. It’s oddly comforting, even if it threatens to block your airflow. His chin nearly rests atop your head, so close, but all you get is the waft of cigars and ink.

Graves must respond with something – something that the man just a few feet away from you does not appreciate.

“At this rate, the worst case scenario is that she finds out,” the man starts to pace, the rhythm of his footfalls matching the heaving rises of your chest, “And then what? Get your fucking head in, Commander.”

Your mind’s flooded with possibilities, what could possibly constitute the worst case scenario, when the next sentence shatters you entirely.

“She’s smart, Commander, and she’s gonna want to figure out the truth of dear old mum’s death soon. Don’t be idiotic.”

Silence.

Your ears ring – your throat closes, and your common sense crumbles at your feet. 

The next few moments happen in easy, recognisable steps.

One. You shove Price off of you – not in a way that’d cause him pain, but forceful enough that he can’t push back in time to stop you.

Two. You swing the closet door open, the light flooding your view, along with the large frame of the Lieutenant General.

Three. You slide your trusty pistol from your hollister, flick off the safety, and aim with a shaky grip.

And you shoot.

The bullet slices clean and true through the man’s forehead, blood instantly dripping between his eyes as he falls forward, body slumping, until the phone clatters to the carpet alongside him.

Price yells something. You can’t hear it past the ringing in your ears, the muffled sound that drifts between reality and thought.

Dropping to your knees, you clasp the phone in your grip, blood staining the face of it. You bring it to your ear, hand no longer shaking. Steady as a surgeon.

Graves says something, sounding desperate.

“When I kill you, Commander,” you rasp, and you think you can hear Ghost’s irritating voice through your radio, “I’ll do it the same way I plan to finish Shepherd.”

“You’re gonna regret –” Graves hisses, but all you do is pull the phone from your ear, and press the circular red button.

The line cuts.

A hand falls to your shoulder, shaking you, and it’s only then that the ringing stops, and all of your other senses fall back into place.

The hand moves to the hair at the base of your skull, Price fisting it and pulling your head back to face him. He looks… angry, but it’s softened, somehow, by the understanding in his blue eyes.

“You had one order, Darlin’,” he borderline growls, and your skin prickles, “Tell me what that was.”

A petulant child is what you are. How he’s treating you.

You answer anyway.

“Not to,” you swallow, throat dry, “Not to kill him. Captain, you have to –” His grip on your hair tightens, and your words stop short.

He shakes his head, eyes narrowing. “If you’re gonna let your feelings get in the way of our mission…”

Even though he doesn’t finish his sentence, you understand the meaning of it. You’re acting reckless, growing impatient – risking yourself and others over petty disputes.

Everything feels so difficult, right now, impossible to comprehend. Like your mind’s on auto-pilot, your body, too.

Price releases his grip from your hair, and you find your gaze moving to the body laid in front of you.

And…

A piece of paper – folded – has fallen just beside his jacket’s pocket. You lean forward, clasping it between your hands without a second thought, and open it up with careful movements.

With every word you read, your mouth falls open wider – until you find yourself standing on unsteady feet, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

It’s.

“It’s not the contract,” you breathe, realising Price is just watching, waiting, looking out for you. You finally look up from the sheet. 

“It’s something better.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee @simp-sentral @littlecellist @clear-your-mind-and-dream @browtfyoudoing @oreo-cream @fanngirl19 @marispunk @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @cedar-bees @xvintageghostx @leiaa34 @thigh-o-saur

#🤍 : forever winter #⌨️ : love's writing #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #mw2 #soap cod #tf141 #tf141 x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #gaz garrick #cod #kyle garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #soap x ghost #soapghost #call of duty x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod smut #simon riley x reader

[asksythe]

Hey just read your lovely hands fanfic and the concept of the blood pool being a prison for malevolent entities barred from the cycle of reincarnation is so COOL , is it a thing implied between the lines and we western audiences lack the cultural context to recognise it ?, or is it something you came up with if so can I have permission to incorporate the concept into my own fan works?

It is a cultural thing. It's not even implied in the novel. It's just outright stated. But it's one of those hundreds of tiny cultural details that probably fly over the head of the international audience.

Remember when the Wen people came back as bloody corpses to protect Wei Ying and fought back the fierce corpses riled up by the repaired Yin Hufu?

In this part, the novel describes the events following the first Sige of the Burial Mound. After the hundred cultivator houses slaughtered these defenseless elderlies, women, and children, they threw their corpses into the blood pool, thus forever barring them from reincarnation.

The phrase the novel uses is 永不超生 (lit. to never again be reborn, to be barred from the cycle of reincarnation forever). That's not a figure of speech. The novel is being literal. The Burial Mound itself is already a prison for all kinds of undead and ghost wraiths. The blood pool, by the novel descriptions, amounts to a maximum security cell. A ghost in the Burial Mound can eventually let go of their grudge/resentment and enters the afterlife/reincarnation. But anybody thrown into the blood pool doesn't have this option.

永不超生 is commonly portrayed in Chinese culture as a punishment by the authority of the underworld. That's not a judgment that a mortal is allowed to make.

The fact that the Hundred Houses carried out 永不超生 on the Wen is a detail that speaks of both their arrogance and their awareness of their guilt.

The Hundred Houses are well aware what they did to the Wen remnants is a sin. The custom of the time is, if you profess yourself to be the righteous side and slay someone seen as 'evil/villain,' it's customary to hang their corpses up for all to see.

Remember Nie Mingjue beheading Wen Xu and hanging Wen Xu's head at the gate of Uncleam Realm for all to see? NMJ is not doing that just because he has a vendetta against the Wen. He's doing that as part of ancient customs to declare to all that 'his kill is righteous,' that he doesn't need to hide it, and that Wen Xu and the Wens are villains that need to be put down.

That's the principle. Justice has no need to hide.

But not only did the Hundred Houses hide the corpses of the Wen remnants, but they also imprisoned their souls, hoping that would keep the Wen from coming back as grudge wraiths or for the karmic cycle itself to snap back for this sin.

The Hundred Houses built up the Wen remnants to be this evil army at Wei Ying's beck and call. So they need to be put down. But the truth is that they were just a bunch of elderlies, women, and children who spent all their lives being doctors (as they belong to the Qihuang branch, with their own pacifistic philosophy).

Had the Hundred Houses performed the custom and showed their supposedly righteous kill to the world, then the truth would out. That they were either liars or stupid, and that they best be prepared to repay for their transgression on both innocent Wens and on the authority of hell itself.

And that, my friend, is why the second Burial Mound Siege ended the way it did, and why the vast majority of those same cultivators left Wei Ying alone afterward. What do you think those same cultivators think when their victims break out of the supposedly unbreakable maximum security cell to save Wei Ying (another of their victims)? And then those same Wen souls entered the afterlife?

The Western vernacular for this part is: Karma is a tenacious bitch with a long memory. It doesn't matter how much they lie about their crime and act like they are righteous or how good they think they hide the proof of their deeds. Heaven and hell itself are watching.

....Sorry, I have some strong feelings about the treatment of the Wen remnants.

That is to say, feel free to incorporate it in your works.

#ask sythe #wen qing #wen remnants #wen ning #mo dao zu shi #mdzs

[celesterayel]

the tragic heroes | percy jackson

pairing: percy Jackson ✩ ‧₊˚

IN WHICH — the tragic heroes and the tragedy that appeases the chaos.

The monster cackles in delight, its bulging eyes crinkling with glee and invoking disgust in all that have (and will) witness its countenance. Darkness hides all other pallors of rotting skin and luminously straining veins, slivers of shades of bruised blues and bloody reds clashing against the dark abyss of the room, that the monster has no use for as an entity of chaos.

Bells foil loudly in the distance, perturbing the distant silence of the castle with grating screeches only reaching the heights of noise as the pits of tartarus. It is a cacophony of choked laughter and perversive glee for the delicate steps that built the foundation for what is to come. And soon it shall!

The Fates have come knocking on the door of destiny and offered up to the beast the next great tragedy that shall put all the others to shame. A deal for judgement and devastation. The Fates have weaved through sorrows befitting the leagues of Icarus's falling and Achille's lost love, enthralling the vices of Aphrodite's cruel methods that end with aching lips and entranced poets--forever written into history. They have searched the sands of time and bid the eons of creation for this.

The monster lounges forward as if the visions in the water will disappear and greedily drinks forth the taste of cataclysmic devotion and the etchings of pain in the cosmos as the moonlight of the water provides the burning echoes from lips that shall taste the sweetest sin and ache for it in every other lifetime. What a lovely destruction this will be.

The monster pitches out, “It has begun, young little hero. Such pretty sorrows..."

The Fates have certainly outdone themselves. This story will be one for the ages to come and even after!

The walls haunch over and enclose the story in its grasp, keeping it their secret even if only just a bit longer. It reeks of desperation and devastation--the greatest ones always do.

Voices of the damned and lost screech out in laughter, the entity mocks in pity or sadness all the same: "Wretched Greek story doomed to repeat like it has every lifetime; the pour of ichor waning between reality and prophecies about to drip, drip, drip down the pages. Except in this one, it seems perhaps the gods made a mistake choosing you for him. He has no qualms choosing you over all else. I must say, I shall have fun watching the Earth burn and Olympus fall down--the chaos it shall bring...delightful! Blessing or curse we have yet to see! It seems I have a new tale to tell when the cursed half-bloods come crooning at my gates to weep. My, what marvelous tunes!”

The beast could taste the tears and heartache that slide right off this tale, so presently tasteful.

My, my what marvelous fortunes to come indeed.

The Savior of Olympus., Son of the Seas, Percy Jackson. The Survivor.

The Great One, Daughter of the Heavens, Callopeia Iris. The Tragedy.

"Finally a story for the gods below who ache for destruction and tragedy like it was made for them. They shall have a riot."

The Tragic Heroes.

✩ ‧₊˚ author note i was doing physics and calc hw and this came into my mind and now thinking of creating a full on fanfic on ao3 and wattpad based on the dialogue i wrote. i apologize for being so inactive and for the requests in my inbox. swear I have alot planned and written but classes are kicking me rn. i just needed to post this cuz i think it sounded really good :)

#luke castellan #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo series #percy jackson show #annabeth chase #luke x reader #luke pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fic writing #fan fiction #celesterayel

[flowence-writing]

johanna finding out reader sh? 🤔 i'm in desperate need of johanna fanfics 😓

two broken people - j.m.

summary: johanna finds out that you aren’t as ok as you seem.

pairings: johanna x fem!reader

warnings: self harm, depression, suicidal ideation, angst, hurt/comfort

author’s note: if anyone is struggling with these issues, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. you are not alone.

You wondered why you were alive, why you survived. Your hands bloodied with the blood of many. You don’t want to keep living. You don’t deserve it. The hopelessness grips onto your bones, settling deep within your soul. Everything is numb, yet you still smile your fake smile, you still laugh that fake laugh. It didn’t matter how many people you were always around, the inexcusable feeling of being lonely weighs down on your chest.

Johanna has noticed something different about you, but you cannot seem to bring yourself to care. You can’t seem to keep up the act.

After training you were exhausted, mentally and physically. You quickly darted out of the training area, speed walking to Johanna and yours room. When arriving at the room you quietly closed the door, going towards your stash of razors you picked out the sharpest one.

[i tried it like before and this time i made a deep cut]

You rolled up your sleeves, not even wincing at the way they stuck to your past wounds. You took a deep inhale, pressing the razor hard against your skin before you exhaled and drove it deep into your flesh watching as the blood oozes out.

[i thought about my friends and the way i didnt give enough]

Distantly, you should’ve known it would’ve been too deep. The blood starts to ooze out in a faster yet still somewhat sluggish pace, you feel dizzy and lightheaded. Vaguely you thought you didn’t really want to die.

[and i shouldve told my mother, “mom, i love you,” like a good son]

You stumbled into your desk, before you could think much about it you cut even deeper on your other wrist. A smile mixed with relief and remorse carved its way onto your features. You hear the door open, but you can’t really focus on anything but going to lay down.

[but this life is overwhelming and im ready for the next one]

“Y/N! Oh god… what did you do?!” Johanna yelps, running to you immediately. You can barely make out the words she’s saying. All you can think about, is how you’ll finally be free.

[take the blade away from me]

“Let me go…” You whisper, your voice sounds weak and slurred.

[i am a freak, i am afraid that]

Johanna shakes her head, “No! You promised… you promised me.” she says, desperately.

[all the blood escaping me won’t end the pain]

Johanna desperately screams for help, you vaguely see Katniss run in, the shock and despair on her face is heartbreaking.

[and i’ll be haunting all the lives that cared for me]

You can’t seem to get your eyes to stay open, you can hear Johanna screaming, crying, and sobbing, yet you can’t bring yourself to stay awake.

You woke with a start, looking around you you see that you’re in medical. You clench your teeth. Looking down you see the bandages on your wrists and … tears start streaming down your cheeks.

“Y/N? it’ll be ok. i’m here,” You sob even harder at your girlfriends words.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” You sob into her shoulder, gripping onto her shirt like its your lifeline, and it very well could be.

At least, at least you have Johanna. Two broken people trying to love, trying to heal.

#johanna mason x reader #johanna mason #johanna mason x fem!reader #self insert #tw sh related #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games

[calypsocolada]

PRACTICAL | s. shinazugawa

synopsis: you work at the butterfly mansion and your least favorite hashira comes to visit.

authors note: this is my first fanfic so please be nice haha I kinda just wrote this without any direction. I know nothing about medical stuff so bear with me.

cw warnings: mentions of blood, some cussing, slightly suggestive. that’s it I think let me know if I missed anything!

wc: 2.5k

________________________________________

One word that you’d use to describe Sanemi Shinazugawa was cold. Cold like the icy morning air that stung your cheeks. That made you grab scarf and pull it up over your nose to hide from its sharp bite.

You worked at the butterfly mansion, all the great Hashira’s came through here. All of them so different. Giyuu was quiet but kind. Mitsuri outgoing and thankful (you always liked when she was around). Tengen was flirty, claiming that he had room for another wife before winking at you. And although that offer was tempting he was far too much for you, you did like his wives though. You never really saw Obanai much but on the off chance you did you gave him space, he didn’t seem much of a talker. You never met Gyomei. Rengoku was one of your favorites, he went completely out of his way to make you laugh, to share his food with you and sometimes while he was training, he’d teach you a few things. Tokito was adorable, he wasn’t around much but when he was you loved talking with him. Explaining things that he didn’t understand and smiling when he did. Now Sanemi, he was your least favorite hashira. He was rude, loud and obnoxious. You’d pray that you got someone else’s bedside to take care of when you saw him being carried into the mansion, bloody and bruised. He wasn’t even conscious this time and still you were annoyed.

You remember when you first met him, you smiled as you brought his food and medicine and although he didn’t return the sentiment you still were polite. You asked how his day was, he grunted. You helped him eat (both of his arms were broken) he gripped at you to go faster. You gave him his medicine and he laughed when you dropped the cap on accident. When he was a bit better to be able to stand and train his body back he was 10x worse! He called you healer girl even though you reminded him of your name countless times. He never left you alone, he’d follow you around and crack stupid jokes, he’d splash water in your face multiple times during the cup game and once when you were talking with another girl, he eavesdropped and laughed at something you considered a low moment in your life. Right then and there you decided Sanemi Shinazugawa was your least favorite person.

The next few times he came around you purposely made sure you were halfway across the mansion at all times, busying yourself with other things. You heard from some other healers that he was in bad shape after your second day of hiding. You felt terrible.

“Is he conscious?” You’d asked one of the girls.

“No! We’re all very worried!” She answered back. You sighed. You were the best healer and if you kept hiding out because of some stupid things you’d feel responsible for not helping. So you dragged yourself to Sanemi’s room. He was currently sharing a room with Rengoku. A smile lit up your face at the sight of him.

“Ren! What’re you doing here?” You exclaimed as you ran across the room, he jumped to his feet to meet you in a hug and spun you off your feet. You laughed happily as he sat you back down.

“Got here at the same time as Nemi here, I was in a bit better shape then him.” Rengoku fills you in. You turn to look at Sanemi. He was pale, his cheeks flushed, he had cuts and bruises littered all over his skin, his torso was wrapped with white gauze that clearly needed to be changed because some blood was seeping through. “Wondering where you were, thought maybe you were away or something.” Rengoku says as you walk over to Sanemi’s bedside. He was sleeping fitfully, obviously uncomfortable from the pain. You reached out, the back of your hand pressing against Sanemi’s forehead. He was burning up, his cheeks and forehead clammy.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whispered as you reached for a cloth, dousing it in cold water and ringing it out. “I was hiding.” You told Rengoku. His brows turned in in confusion. You made a face and signaled to Sanemi. Rengoku’s eyes grew as he mouthed the word ‘oh’ as though he understood. You pressed the cold cloth to Sanemi’s forehead and he seemed to relax just a bit.

“I too like to hide away from my feelings.” He joked and your face instantly blushed.

“Negative feelings.” You corrected quickly.

“Negative?” Rengoku echoed. “You don’t have a crush?”

“No! Of course not!” You burned, trying to keep your voice as a hushed whisper. Rengoku cocked his head like a dog at you, you rolled your eyes, turning back to Sanemi. He’d moved closer somehow, clearly unaware of who was currently taking care of him. You pulled the rag away and rung it out with cold water again, pressing it to his cheeks as you pulled the cover from his body. He was radiating heat so before you could change his bandage you needed to get his temperature down just a bit. Rengoku watched quietly as you got to work. Slowly evening out Sanemi’s temperature.

“He likes you.” Rengoku whispers into the silence. Your eyes snap up to his, hand pausing before you checked his temperature again.

“I think you’re very mistaken, Ren.” You corrected as Rengoku squinted his eyes.

“He told me you were his favorite…” Rengoku trailed off, looking up as if trying to recall the memory fully. You shook your head with a laugh.

“Ren, please.”

“No it’s true! He asked for you before he lost consciousness.”

“He probably said healer girl, there’s tons of us.”

“He said y/n.” You paused, looking over at Rengoku.

“He doesn’t know my name.”

“Of course he does! He talks about you the most when he’s drunk.” You blushed deeply suddenly. There was no damn way Rengoku had this all right. The man wouldn’t lie to you but he must’ve misheard. “He talks about your hair, he likes the color, and your laugh and-“

“Shut your- damn mouth.” Sanemi suddenly growled causing you to jump, his eyes were narrowed at Rengoku. Rengoku held in a laugh as Sanemi starts to sit up.

“No, no. You can’t-“

“I feel fine.” Sanemi pushed your hands away but he was grimacing and getting paler by the second. You swallowed before pushing him back down by the shoulders.

“You are not well!” You snapped. He looked at you surprised. You’d raised your voice at him, your eyes like molten lava. He was quiet, didn’t push your hands away this time. Your jaw tightened as you backed up. “You never listen to me so I’ll call another healer to-“

“No.” Sanemi cut you off. You stared at him.

“No?” You echoed angrily. He didn’t look at you, his cheeks were turning red, he must’ve been heating up again from being awake. He didn’t look even when he talked to you.

“I don’t want anyone else to help, I want the best.” You felt every nerve in your body heating up, your throat dried. The once anger you felt slightly calmed in your chest. Replacing itself with embarrassment or something close to it. You’d forgotten Rengoku was in the room, observing this moment when he cleared his throat.

“I think I’ll go for a nice walk, leave you two to… this.” He said, leaving swiftly. When the door shut and silence prevailed you cleared your throat.

“I’ll help if you don’t fight me on everything.” You said in the silence. For a moment you think he hadn’t heard you until slowly he nodded his head. You sighed, grabbing the rag that had fallen and running it back under cold water. “Lay back.” You directed and just like he promised Sanemi laid back as you dabbed the cold water on his cheeks and forehead. This moment was silent and intimate and for once you didn’t dread being beside him. That was until Rengoku’s words drifted back into your head. About you being his favorite and how he talked about you often when drunk. You almost laughed out loud at the thought.

“What is it?” Sanemi asked and suddenly, you had checked out slightly but blinked and you were back to reality.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response.

“You look— amused.” He says. Your thoughts must’ve shown a bit on your face. You masked over it and shook your head. You reached back on your cart for some more gauze and some solution and when you turned back Sanemi was watching you, not angrily like usual but almost reverently, like he was interested in what you were doing.

“I’m gonna replace your bandages.” You said and he nodded his head. You helped him sit up, he shivered at your cold touch as you unwrapped his torso. It wasn’t terribly bad, but the stitches were coming loose which had caused some bleeding. “Did you try and get up last night?” You asked as you reached for you medkit. Sanemi cleared his throat and you looked at him. He looked guilty. “You did didn’t you.”

“I felt fine.” He says sheepishly. Then adds. “But I passed out in pain before I could get out of the room.” He says and this time, even though through a patient doctor relationship it wasn’t funny, you laughed.

Stubborn as hell Sanemi had passed out because of his stupid actions. Karma. Sanemi looked at you, watched as you softly laughed and slowly the smallest smile spread on his lips.

“That’s not very professional of you.” Sanemi said and suddenly you realized he was teasing. He wasn’t some angry hashira he actually had a personality.

“You’re right,” You start in doing his torn stitches carefully. “It’s not funny.” You said but you were still laughing. That was when like the world had tilted on its axis and flipped 180 degrees. Sanemi pushed up slightly, damning the pain in his torso to press a fervent kiss to your lips. You froze, the moment slowly dawning on you. Sanemi, who claimed to dislike you and not know your name, was leaned over, hand tangled in your hair as he kissed you as if you were going to disappear at any moment. It was odd, but not a bad odd, just crazy. You’d sooner think lightening would strike you inside rather than this man kissing you. And something even stranger was that you were enjoying it, it felt as though everything else in the world had paused around you. Allowed you to have this one moment to yourselves. He kissed you feverishly, like he’d die if he pulled back. That was until Sanemi cursed against your lips.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pulling back, pain splintering all through him. You blinked back to reality at the sight of fresh blood flowing from his wound.

“Oh-“ you gasped, reaching for a cloth, pressing it against the flowing blood. Clearly he’d lost his mind, so sick and riddled with pain that he kissed you. He probably had no idea he’d done it. You rationalized stupidly as you pressed the rag a bit more and slowly the blood cotted. You both didn’t say a word as you slowly stitched his wound back together, lifting him up to rewrap the gauze. When you laid him back down he weakly caught your wrist. His eyes were so soft on yours. You shook your head. Whatever he had to say it wouldn’t really be him thinking it.

“You’re not yourself right now.” You said but his grip tightened just barely.

“You think a little pain would make me kiss you?” He asks. You burn red all over, you open your lips to speak but he pulls you to him by your wrist, you mouth falling against his. He kisses you more desperately this time. A hand reaching up and sliding into your hair, pulling you even closer to him. You’re coaxed entirely to easy into his lap and you feel him whimper in pain against your lips. It’s a sobering sound. You pulled back, this couldn’t happen.

“Sanemi, we shouldn’t-“

“I want you.” He whispers into the space between you. Rengoku’s words coming to fruition right in-front of your eyes. You shook your head in disbelief. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.” You laughed, fully pulling back from him.

“You’re sick.”

“I’m not that sick.” He refuted, you reached your hand out, pressing against his forehead, he was warm but not burning up like before. “Y/n-“

“No. I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” You snapped. Sanemi watched you curiously as you gathered up your things.

“Why not?” He asked as you looked at him in disbelief.

“Because I don’t believe you.”

“I kissed you twice, what’s not to believe?” He argued.

“That you kissed me in the first place! You— you hate me!”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do!” You threw back. Sanemi shook his head with some sort of finality.

“No. I really don’t.” You stared at him, anger bubbling up.

“Then why call me healer girl? Never using my name when I tell you too! Or annoying me and being rude? Is that how you treat people you care about?” Sanemi stared at you as you spoke. He swallowed and looked away. Nodding his head a moment later.

“I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to what? Treat me like a person?”

“I didn’t want to fall for you.” Sanemi growled, eyes jumping to yours. Your mouth fell open with the confession. “I thought if I was rude to you that you’d just— that you’d stay away from me. But you didn’t. You kept showing up, being charming and unbelievably beautiful and stupidly funny I couldn’t— I couldn’t help it!” Sanemi growls, huffing. You blinked. You felt as though this was for sure a dream. You pinched yourself but you weren’t waking up. You were really unsure what to say. You’d spent so much time despising Sanemi and now you weren’t sure how to feel about him at all. Everything made sense now. He was always around, you were always trying to help. You tried to make him laugh and talk when he didn’t. He was falling for you all this time and you had no idea. “Say something.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you said truthfully.

“Maybe you feel the same?” He asks and you shook your head.

“You never really talked to me. I barely know you.” You said practically and he looked away from you embarrassed. But you were attracted to him, you felt something when you kissed. That had to count for something. You swallowed dryly and set your stuff back down. You walked and set on the chair by his bed. You went through the motions, checking his vitals and temperature. It was quiet and awkward. When you were done Sanemi caught your wrist as you stood.

“Let me apologize.”

“Apologize?” You echoed.

“For how I treated you.” He says and you roll your eyes.

“Shut up.” You said and when his eyes widened in surprise you leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his lips. The kiss lingered this time, something fluttered in your stomach when you felt his hand just barely under your jaw. When you pulled back he huffed, his breath tickling your cheek. “You better be very nice the next time you see me.” You whispered in the space between you.

#demon slayer sanemi #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x you #kimetsu sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi x reader #demon slayer

[bookjonsadaily]

can you recommend some book jonsa fanfics? Not really that many on going in ao3

Hey anon!!!

Here are some more recs for you!!

the first are from nepobabyeurydice:

if you try to break me you will bleed by @dialux

time travel fic with Sansa, but it’s always the first fic I recommend to friends because the development of Jon and Sansa’s relationship from her holding all the cards, to him swearing herself to her, and then Sansa letting him see the whole deck is genuinely beautiful to read!

love exists in many forms by @dialux

In which Alayne Arryn, only daughter of Jon Arryn, commits suicide after her father dies in a failed attempt at rebellion, and her handmaiden, Sansa Stone, pretends to be her when faced with death. Sansa arrives at King’s Landing and finds herself betrothed to Prince Jon Targaryen; but their relationship is complicated by old secrets, new loves, and treason.

my head is bloody and unbowed by sadhippe

In which Robb’s baby survives, Sansa never marries Ramsay, and Jon is held captive at Dragonstone. Also more Tully’s and other Northern Conspiracy Faves!

and recs from visenyashill, who is going to do one of longer fic when they have the time and energy to actually read fic in a little bit, so these are mostly one shots-

in the midst of the ruins by iday

jonsa fic, post war for the dawn. while living out his days out of sight and out of mind, jon gets a raven from winterfell with only two words: "come home." so he does. brienne and podrick are also there. very cute, contained little story, and an older jonsa fic.

varg-hamr/wolfskin by undercovercaptain

this one gets rec-ed a lot but for good reason! a take on jon's ressurection and sansa as the girl in gray that i think is well done and also roughly what i predict will happen (leaving room for some crazy grrm-ness tho, obviously)

saw you in the snow by sleepingwithwolves

another girl in gray esque take but with bran coming to sansa in a weirwood dream as well as jon. i love this one a lot, i you will see i have a weakness for jonsa fic that features another starkling.

no smooth road by maybethrice

rickon pov where jon and sansa recall him from hiding on skagos when he’s twelve, to be the new lord of winterfell. it’s a “dany stops the long night” canon and i like it for delving into the difficult tie of the political situation.

ghosts by sansawolfbits

jon travels to the vale to meet with the lord protector and finds someone he didn't expect. very short but cute also myranda cameo.

i lost all signs so i got lost by tempisfugit

The five people who wanted Sansa for who she reminded them of and the one who just wanted her.

stealing by just_a_dram

jon steals sansa. this is the first jonsa fic i ever read and this author was super prolific with book canon jonsa in like....2016? ish? so if you're looking for book canon stuff, I would definitely start here!

a boy in his cups by greenhikingboots

a re-imagining of jon's first chapter in agot where he knows the truth of who he is and drunkenly proposes to sansa.

a stark in winterfell

it's not super romantic, more tortured than anything, about sansa needing an heir and seducing jon snow - and neither of them know about his true parentage.

#book jonsa #fanfic #do i dare tag this with vs haha #jonsa #fanfiction

[fairysluna]

Hello, I just stumbled into your old account and read and LOVED one of your Aegon fanfics (What Should've Been) and I have a teeny tiny request, if you don't mind. It seems the reader had tuberculosis from the symptoms, especially the bloody coughs, and since Aegon was thoroughly exposed to it, I was wondering if you can maybe make a teeny tiny follow-up about how he also contracts the disease and dies and later joins the reader in the afterlife under the same weirwood tree where she's waiting for him in her wedding gown and Aegon goes to her and tucks a purple pansy in her ear and they walk off into the light, together at last.

Please, I'm terribly heartbroken (and depressed but that's just my usual depression) over this beautiful story and I'd love a follow-up, even if it's just bullet points of what happens 🥺🥺

Author's Note: Hi hun!! I love the fact that you love my story enough to come here and ask me to write more, I will always love to make a follow up of my fics... so this is entirely dedicated to you, love!! thank you for enjoying my writing (and srry for breaking your heart). These are bullet points btw and it is quite short, but i hope you like it!!🤍

WHAT SHOULD'VE BEEN — Aegon's Grief.

Summary: The aftermath of the biggest loss in Aegon's life: you. An epilogue for this story.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Arryn!Reader

Tags/TW: angst, grief, death, mentions of depression, sickness, sensitive content. If something is missing pls let me know.

Aegon didn’t leave his bed for days. The grief and sorrow in his heart was too much for him to bear. He wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t bathe, he wouldn’t even stand from his bed… the bed he used to share with you.

It was hard for him to go inside the room, the weeks before your funeral he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the door of it. Needless to say, he didn’t even step inside of it until the funeral was over. The sheets were still there, the shape of your body was still seen on the bed. He did not allow the maids to clean up the room; he could smell the scent of death that was left behind, but once he went closer to the bed he was able to smell your perfume… and that was enough for him to bury his face against the pillows as he sobbed and whined.

Alicent tried to go and persuade him to go back to his duties. He had become a King, but what kind of King he was if he didn't have his Queen by his side? What purpose was left for him when the most important person in the world was now gone? The forces of your love had left him without warming, the warmth of your love no longer covered his body in the shape of an affectionate kiss. He felt useless without you, for you were the only thing that brought meaning into his life.

Aemond would start to cover him up in the Small Council meetings and other duties. Aegon was in no condition to fulfill his activities, because not only his spirit was broken but his health was deteriorating with each passing day. The health of their King was starting to cause rumors around the halls, servants claimed that he went mad out of his own grief.

His chubby shape soon became a skeletal one. His rosy cheeks were now pale and bony, his cheekbones being too noticeable now. Alicent would go at night trying to make him eat something, but Aegon had lost his will to live the day he lost you. And eventually, the Gods were merciful enough… and they made him sick too.

Alicent knew what was coming, she had witnessed the same symptoms in you a few weeks ago before you took your last breath. She cried herself to sleep many nights as the Maester would only inform her that her son was slowly dying, with no signs of improvement at all. And then, the hallucinations started as Aegon was being slowly killed by the fever.

His already weakened body could not handle that sickness that came upon him. The lack of food, of sleep, along with his lack of will to live were enough to get him seriously ill, to the point when he started to speak to the maids thinking they were you.

"Oh, my sweet wife," he would say with a thin voice, barely audible. Most of his wording would be interpreted as mumbling and nonsense, "can't wait to see our beautiful child growing inside of you."

A few days later… Aegon passed away in the same bed that he used to share with you, grasping the same sheets that covered your body during your last days, and in the same bed where he held you close every night. And even though that was the day his body died, his soul had left him the same day you left him.

Alicent cried for days after the news, but she wasn't surprised at all. No one was. The love Aegon had for you was too obvious for everyone.

"Not even death could pull them apart," Aemond would say as he consoled his mother during the funeral, where Sunfyre was the one lighting the fire that ended up consuming his skeletal body.

Aegon thought he was dreaming when he found himself standing in the gardens, wearing a black suit but feeling light, the anguish that had haunted him for the past weeks was no longer there.

And then, he heard your laugh.

A small giggle that made him feel as if his heart was beating again. A sound so soft and gentle, delicate and blissful, that it brought a rose color upon his cheeks, which returned to be as chubby as they were before.

At first, he was afraid of turning around, thinking that it was a delusion, some trick of his mind making him hear things. But then, he heard it again, and the urge to look at your beautiful face once again was stronger than any fear that might succumb him. He needed to see you… and he did.

There you were, as beautiful as you have always been, wearing a tighter and less pompous version of your wedding gown. Your hair was falling down your shoulders in cascades, your eyes gleaming with pure happiness as you laughed at the pages you were reading. Aegon was enchanted, mesmerized by the angelic sound your laughter would produce.

He walked slowly towards you, as if he was scared you would become a pile of dust and fade into the wind, but you never did. Instead, you looked up at him and your eyes shined so bright that Aegon was sure he saw stars in them. You were so gorgeous, far from being the sick woman he saw before you passed. You were your old self, the woman who would make him laugh and make him fall in love all over again every single day.

"You came," you said with a radiant smile.

"You know I've never done well without you, my love," he replied.

You saw him picking up a flower from the greenest grass he's ever seen; a purple pansy soon was on your hair, and Aegon's heart felt alive once he felt your lips against the softness of his flushed cheeks. A gesture that he had terribly missed.

Aegon cupped your face between his hands, and looked down to you with admiration and pure devotion. Your eyes were full of life once again; a sight that Aegon wished to never forget again. Before you could say anything to him, he kissed you, and your lips felt warm and soft as they always were. Your touch made him feel like a teenage boy, the same boy that fell in love with you many years ago.

He realized then that he finally found heaven, that all his wishes and pleas were listened to by the Gods by sending him back to you; back to where he belonged.

Aegon saw your eyes once again, and right there he realized that the Gods were finally merciful, because now he got to spend the rest of his life by your side without having the constant fear of losing you again.

He finally found peace, because you were there with him.

#request #angst #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #hotd x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #fanfic

[olderthannetfic]

I remember when I was first getting into kink, I really fell for the "slippery slope" nonsense. I would find something in fiction that I thought was the coolest hottest, most extreme thing I'd ever seen and I'd love it, and then I'd follow a trail of links from that to something a little more extreme and thing that was the hottest, most extreme thing I had ever seen and I'd love that. Etc etc.

So I started wondering when does it stop? Surely, I'll just keep ramping up the extremity until I'm wanking to stuff that's well beyond what I actually think is hot, and surely at some point the only remaining threshold of extremity will be to take it into real life and start doing hurtful things to real people.

But it doesn't work that way. The escalation I was seeing was simply a discovery process of starting low and working up until I actually found my comfort threshold, and it didn;t take any effort to stop there because once I found it that was where I settled in.

It turns out that nothing is really too extreme for me in fiction (barring a few odd squicks that have nothing to do with extremity) and that I enjoy very light BDSM in real life. The "slippery slope" was just a methodical, no-surprises way of figuring that out.

--

Hah. Yes.

It's also really funny to me because I think 99% of shippy fic is basically the same template with different set dressing:

The OTP does some kink that they're both into or at least both into by the end of the fic. Everyone ends up okay.

Or maybe it's about trauma, but it's very much in that woobiefic way where the reader and author are clearly super into the character and like watching them hurt because that's their fave.

Many a normally-squeamish fan is shocked, shocked I say, to discover that they like extremely bloody stories as long as they're about Deadpool or Jack Harkness doing freaky things with no consequences. Turns out, it isn't snuff or maiming that's the issue: it's sad endings.

But show that same fan some of the brutal superheroine depowering noncon from amateur erotica sites far outside of AO3's sphere, and they'll often recoil. Here, the vibe is sometimes that the audience likes watching the protagonist suffer because they hate them instead of because they love them, and ending in trauma and horror is the point. (Still doesn't make you a serial killer, but the vibe is definitely different from your average AO3 fanfic.)

A n00b to kinky stuff will often focus on the presence of blood or piss or a technical lack of consent more than on the underlying psychological aspects and so will see certain stories as radically more extreme than the last where I would see basically the same dynamic at the same intensity with slightly different props.

[madhatterbri]

Grind | W.O.

Summary: Will discovers he likes to grind on the boss' daughter. Historical AU. 18+

Author's Note: Shamelessly stolen from @midwestmade29 . The devil works hard, but fanfic writers work harder. 😂❤️

@plentyoffandoms @coleskingdom @theworldofotps @99hook

Impure fiction

Will had an eye on the boss' daughter for quite some time. He was shy about it at first before getting cheeky. No inappropriate actions or words were ever done in front of the watchful eyes of daddy, of course. Oh no. He saved them all for the moments they were alone.

Y/N sat at the desk crunching the latest numbers for her father's business. After sending her off to college, she came back with a degree in accounting. Her father insisted that she come work for him. When he told her that Will was working for him, she immediately accepted.

"Oi, what are you still doing here? It's dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you," Will announced and pointed out the window behind her. As if on queue, a flash of lightning followed by the roar of thunder shook the room. He made his way to Y/N's desk.

"Rain catch ya, did it?" She giggled upon seeing his wet features. His dirty blonde curls normally fluffy were now soaked. His clothes stuck to him. The white button-up shirt he wore, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Think this is funny, do you? You may have the beauty, darling, but I got the muscles. A quick shower yourself would do you some good," he teased and moved like he was going to hug her.

"You wouldn't dare," she hissed and stood from her chair. Will had a big toothy grin on his face. Each step towards her met with the sound of his wet socks being squished between the floor and his feet. She quickly made her way from him.

He gave you a running head start. Will was an assassin who liked the feel of catching someone after they had a head start. The power it gave him as the person couldn't outlast him. The only thing better than the feeling was Y/N.

Y/N only made it to the kitchen before he caught her. His arms wrapped around her waist from behind. She squealed as the cold, wet rain touched her skin. Will spun her around and press himself against her in a proper hug. Curses and insults flew out of her mouth as she pushed him away.

"You bloody bastard! I will kill you!" She screeched and slammed her fists into his muscular chest. He laughed at her feeble attempts to hurt him, which only egged her on more.

He scooped her up over his shoulder. Her balled up fists banged against his back to be let down. Will eventually followed her wishes and placed her on the rug in front of the fireplace in the meeting room. Her father would come in here to unwind during business hours.

"Happy princess?" He asked with his arms extended outwards. His arms fell back to his sides when he saw through her white shirt. She followed his gaze and blushed. Her shirt was pressed to her body.

"Like what you see then?" She asked and started to unbutton her shirt. Will's mouth dropped open in shock. He gulped to get rid of the dryness in his mouth. He licked his lips. "Right then. You've got two options, Willy. Either we can do what we have both been wanting to do or you can fuck off. Which is it?"

Will wasn't as delicate as she was with his clothes. He grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled it apart. The buttons popped off and bounced on the floor. He dropped to his knees and kissed her hard. His hands cupped her cheeks as the fire roared next to them.

Her hands ignored her clothes and rubbed his damp body. She started from behind his neck and made her way to his chest and stomach. Each ripple of muscle feels tight under her fingertips. His hands followed suit and ran down to her shirt.

"Don't you bloody dare, Ospreay," she threatened.

Her shirt met the same fate as his. "Sorry, love, been waiting for this for too long,"

He ripped the fabric off her body and away from them. The next to go was her bra. Her arms lifted up as he slipped the garment over her head. His light eyes didn't hide that he was checking her out. Will urged her to lay back.

She laid on her back. He placed his hands at either side of her body. His lips connected to hers once more. Will made his way by kissing her jawline down to her neck and chest. He paid attention to her sounds, making sure to hit all the right spots. Her fingers snaked through his hair.

He sat up to unfasten her belt. She hoisted her hips as he slid her pants and underwear off. Her legs were spread under his lust filled gaze. The bloke still couldn't believe this was happening. All the times he dreamed about this.

Her moans sounded in the room as he teased her. His tongue slowly ascended up her slit. She closed her eyes and whined. They locked eyes, and he smiled.

With little hesitation, he went down on her. His tongue toyed with her clit as it pulsed in need for him. Her leg laid over his shoulder. One of her hands gripped his hair while the other held his hand. His free hand made use of working her.

Will started slow with thrusting one finger in and out of her. He saw the pathetic excuse of men she dated. They couldn't prepare her for him. Once he saw she was getting adjusted to him, he added another finger and then another. He spread them apart and curled them inside of her. She only got louder from there.

He stopped the moment the tightness in his pants was too painful to withstand. Will pulled away from her, much to her dismay. A loud whine of protest slipped out of the boss' daughter yet stopped when she saw him undressing. Soon, he was above naked as the day he was born.

"I got you, darling. Don't worry," he assured her and placed himself between her legs once more. His strong hands wrapped her legs around his waist. Will grabbed himself and rubbed the tip of his dick through her folds. He felt the head at her entrance. He leaned down and kissed her before slowly pushing himself inside.

His mouth captured her moan as he waited for her to adjust to him. She felt heavenly to him. His eyes closed to take everything in. God, if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

"More," she begged against his lips. He happily obliged. The sound of skin hitting skin and their carnal sounds filled the room. The fire flickered in the fireplace, but he could see her pleased expression perfectly. Her eyes half closed while she moaned and whimpered his name.

His hands gripped her waist as his thrusts picked up. He never wanted to feel her so far from him. Will paused momentarily. He could feel the two of them were close, but he wanted his ego stroked by her one last time.

"Who makes you feel like this, huh? Who has you singing like this?" He asked roughly between grunts.

"Y-you do," she stuttered and bit her lip. Her walls started to clench around him.

"Scream my name, darling. Let everyone in London know who makes you feel so good," he ordered. She opened her mouth to speak, yet nothing came out. Only breathy moans. Finally, she found it in her.

"Will!" She called out once she reached the peak of orgasm. Will wasn't far behind. He shoved himself deep inside of her one last time. He came inside of her without a care in the world. Her dad would kill him if he ever found out, but he'd die a happy man.

The next few minutes were spent laying in front of the fireplace. He laid behind her and rubbed her side. His arm was used as a pillow for her head. The two of them were distracted by watching the dying flames in the fireplace. Will kissed her bare shoulder softly. Y/N smiled at a joke that popped in her head.

"I guess grinding the boss' daughter isn't too bad," she teased and kissed his bicep.

#fanfiction #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #will ospreay x reader #will ospreay x y/n #will ospreay smut #will ospreay fanfic

[mmani-e]

Part 2 of the DR1 Demix Series! Here we have:

Hifumi as the Ultimate Pop Sensation

Celestia as the Ultimate Baseball Star

Saku(ra) as the Ultimate Programmer

Chihiro as the Ultimate Fighter

Touko as the Ultimate Fanfic Artist

and Yasuhiro as the Ultimate Gambler

As always, some design insights below the cut.

Celestia: Unlike Leon, Celes loves being the ultimate baseball player. She loves the fame, the attention, and the fact it makes her feel special, and far from the boring life she grew up in. She wants to start life over after hope's peak not as Taeko Yasuhiro, but as Celestia Ludenberg.

Hifumi: Hifumi is a body-positive pop sensation who got his position because he submitted a recording of himself singing a song he wrote as a dare to a radio station, aftwards his career started after a kind agent saw the potential in the big boy. Enough for a career.

Touko: Toko I imagine is not very hard to put in the role of fanfic author, in this au she never goes full psycho because she was picked up by a gaggle of anime nerd women her first school so while she lives a shitty life in her parents place she has at least had people to hang out with and bond to. So instead of a psycho, she's just her unpleasant self + anime gatekeeping.

Yasuhiro: If you had a 33% chance guarantee of winning every bet you place at a casino you should always be gambling. Even if you're not that good and a huge moron, a 1 in 3 chance of winning every bet is crazy and that's what Yasuhiro managed to be born with, a 33% chance to win any bet or call he makes, making him stupid rich... or at least he should be, if he wasn't an idiot and manage to still rack a huge debt up.

Saku(ra): Sakura in this AU is known as "Saku" to most of the public, as the only successor to her family's business, in the stead of her father's teachings, she agreed to operate in public as a man in order to save her family's business from falling to malevolent forces in her distant family, who all but disallow the idea of a woman taking over the family business... the Ogami IT Consultancy firm...

Oh the muscles are normal, she's an Assembly programmer.

Chihiro: Essentially a Karate Kid story where all the bullying Chihiro suffered caused him to hit back at one point, causing him to bloody up a bully's face so bad he had to be suspended temporarily. In this suspension, Chihiro's father enrolled him into a dojo, and then shenanigans would ensue causing him to get sent to more and more prestigious institutes of martial learning until he would eventually beat the once-ultimate fighter and earn his title

#danganronpa #fanart #talentswap #talentswap au #danganronpa demix #hifumi yamada #celestia ludenberg #celesfumi #yamaceles #sakura ogami #chihiro fujisaki #toko fukawa #yasuhiro hagakure #danganronpa thh

[ciaraloves]

ooo I got something to say about fic commenting :) someone flag me in 24 hrs so I remember to come back to this post

#I got a comment and now I’m gonna go on a little guided calm discussion about it #ciara’s convos #well not right now cause I have a thesis presentation in 16 hrs that’s eating up my insides with anxiety #but after that. after that indeed. #i bloody love fanfic authors

[zepskies]

Why We Love the Boys

As promised, here is my review of Supes Ain’t Always Heroes. I actually used to write book reviews in my high school journalism days, so here we go!  

What this book is: A masterful deep dive. A study on character psychology, the source of the comic and show’s inspiration, and the narrative themes illustrated in The Boys that parallel American culture and our real lives.

It includes interviews from one of the comic’s creators, Darick Robertson, The Krip himself (Eric Kripke), and actors Jim Beaver (Robert Singer), Aya Cash (Stormfront), Chace Crawford (The Deep), Jessie T. Usher (A-Train), Nathan Mitchell (Black Noir), and of course, Jensen Ackles (Soldier Boy).

It also includes a small but significant ode to the creativity of fans and fandom (with a mention of fanfic writers)!

I’ll admit, I felt seen. 😊

Who wrote it: Psychologists Lynn S. Zubernis and Matthew Snyder. Zubernis is a self-proclaimed fangirl of not only this show, but Supernatural and Eric Kripke in general. (That aspect definitely comes through in her writing.)

She is also editor of Family Don’t End with Blood: Cast and Fans on How Supernatural Changes Lives and There’ll Be Peace When you Are Done: Actors and Fans Celebrate the Legacy of Supernatural. Both of which I now want to read.

Several other authors also contributed to this book, as their expertise and backgrounds lend to the subjects they’re covering, such as racism, sexism, the entertainment industry, the comic’s inception, and more.

Who wants to read this book: Anyone who enjoys learning about what makes characters tick. What drives their choices, their sense of morality and justice, and their trauma and strife that lead them to do heinous things. This book will help you better understand your favorite characters (and how to write about them).

Perhaps most importantly, this book is for anyone who wants to read it put into words, why many of us love The Boys, as well as Supernatural.

In a way, the latter is more escapism entertainment than The Boys. Because in this show, there isn’t much, if any escape.

Despite this being a “superhero show,” as we all know, it’s so much more than that. It’s a mirror held directly into our own faces: about why we enjoy heroes and antiheroes, and excuse the “bad behavior” of the ones we like.

About mental health, grief and loss, nature and nurture, coping mechanisms and the importance of choice in dealing with trauma; of racism, sexism, misogyny, weaponized social media, politics, corporate greed, and the power (and cruelty) of good marketing.

This book explores the true villain of the story (and it ain’t Homelander).

I’m going to get into my favorite aspects of this book—as well as an amazing chapter on Soldier Boy’s character study (and why we love him, perhaps too much).

Though in my opinion, it was missing one small, but key thing…

The Mirror of The Boys on Screen

This world is a gritty, bloody, and at times all-too realistic take on how superheroes would be if they lived in our world.

They are the worst of celebrities, professional athletes, and politicians all rolled into one. They are the shiny products of a company and are marketed as such. And they often buy into their own hype.

Some of my favorite quotes on this topic:

“The Boys often reflects darkness in our real world that is uncomfortable to watch. While we go through the tedium of our daily lives, trying to get by and using television or comics as an escape, it can feel difficult and overwhelming to confront the very real and insidious sources of authoritarianism, nationalism, and corporatism that are not just part of a story. “This show holds up a mirror and forces us to catch a glimpse of things we need to question, and asks us why we so easily believe the talking points of systems with marketing departments and press flacks behind them that carefully massage every word in order to get us to feel enamored with their product or policy.” (p. 227-228)

“The Boys works to reveal the nonaltruistic, sociopathic nature of contemporary US corporate culture. In a sense, The Boys uses the behavior of its characters to diagnose not an individual, but a culture.” (255)

In studying narrative I’ve learned that the best fiction and art serve to reflect the human experience. In this case, it’s something The Boys does expertly, even though it’s packaged in extreme, shocking, and often uncomfortable ways. But also in brutal, hilarious satire that’s fun to watch.

It “exposes real-world abuses, revealing many” of our own frustrations in American culture and in life in general (267).

Major Themes & Questions Explored

Several Boys themes are explored from a psychological, cultural, and narrative point of view, as I mentioned earlier. These are some of my favorite segments:

Toxic Masculinity & Narcissism

A whopper in The Boys, and the main theme of season 3. This book defines clearly what both of these words actually mean from a psychological point of view.

It also takes the bad taste out of your mouth that you might get from just hearing the words “toxic masculinity,” as it’s a phrase that can be carelessly thrown around to describe men and character traits that aren’t truly toxic.

How being emotionally available to your loved ones and not repressive of your feelings doesn’t make you weak, or less of a man. And how “being strong” doesn’t mean being physically violent and domineering. (AKA: the Big Swinging Dick™️ in the room.)

Narcissism is explored in a very interesting way. The book gives a diagram of different aspects of narcissists and how each character (Soldier Boy, Homelander, Butcher, and the Deep) falls into them.

Soldier Boy, for example, is classified as a “Classic Narcissist,” while Homelander a “Malignant Narcissist.” <- This will play into SB’s character study, and the main difference between SB and Homelander.

Butcher, however, displays narcissistic tendencies but is not, in fact, a narcissist. (More of an antisocial sociopath. Yay for him.)

Misogyny & Sexism

The classic superhero world of comics dates back to the 1930s and ‘40s. It has been, and in many respects still is a (White) male-dominated industry, where in narrative, female superheroes typically work under a male leading the team, as in Justice League, Teen Titans, and the Avengers.

As much as I love DC and Marvel comics, female characters have also been drawn wildly sexual for male readers and the male gaze, and non-supe characters have been written primarily as love interests and damsels for the hero to save. (Think Lois Lane, Lana Lang, and Mary Jane.)

Modern adaptions have given female characters more agency, but their foundations were rooted in underlying sexism and the mythic hero—an Odysseus-type with certain characteristics of male strength and heroism. And that goes all the way back to classic literature, like The Odyssey, Beowulf, and the Epic of Gilgamesh.

In The Boys, the female supes go through the same issues as their comic counterparts. And they are treated how women are treated in the real world—marketable as sexual objects. (Starlight’s forced costume change is a prime example.)

Author Danielle Turchiano argues in the book that the women in power at Vought (Madelyn Stillwell, later Ashley) are given only so much power as men like Stan Edgar and Homelander give to them.

Stillwell, Ashley, and even Stormfront “drink the Kool Aid” of the misogynistic infrastructure of Vought, but they’re not truly “powerful” in and of themselves. (112)

And I would add that the only female characters that have or find true agency are Grace Mallory, Annie January/Starlight, and Maggie Shaw/Queen Maeve. Even Victoria Neuman is trying to work the political schematic and Vought by operating “within the system” Vought has created.

Mental Health, Trauma & Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

This is a huge section, and rightly so. It kind of spans throughout the book, really, because all of these characters have traumas that inform who they are as adults making the (often grotesque) choices they make.

For many of these characters, it stems from their upbringing and fraught relationships with their parents, whether explicitly or implicitly explored in the show.

Butcher: Is an antisocial sociopath with narcissistic tendencies. Arrogant, emotionally manipulative, violent, and obsessive. He was also physically and emotionally abused by his father, led to use drinking and violence as a means to cope and express himself. His rage is so deep under his skin—he loathes himself for it (and his father), but struggles immensely to escape it.

Homelander: A malignant narcissist, the height of arrogance, and emotionally manipulative. He lacks empathy for others' pain, and in fact enjoys inflicting it. Yet he was a sensitive, gentle child who only wanted connection and love. Vogelbaum raised him like a lab rat and fostered him in a cold, detached cell. He was raised to be entitled and to believe he was an all-powerful god, the lord of his own kingdom within his mind, excused from the responsibility of his actions.

Soldier Boy: Also a narcissist; violent, arrogant, misogynistic, and often indifferent to the damage he causes, emotional or physical. Yet he was also emotionally abused by his father, who set impossible standards for what it meant to be a man. It drives Ben to try and prove his worth to his father, though he’s never able to. It fosters the lack of self-worth he feels as he seeks validation through fame and what he believes power to be.

These three characters have many similarities, but also notable differences that set them apart from one another. And both Butcher and Soldier Boy use substances like drugs and alcohol to cope with their traumas—ones that their forced stoicism and sense of manhood won’t allow them to easily express.

“We see Soldier Boy use substances almost continuously in season three to deal with his PTSD from the childhood emotional abuse he received from his father, the betrayal and assault from his team, and the torture he endured from the Russian scientists.

“In the short term, the use of drugs and alcohol to avoid thoughts and feelings about traumatic experiences can be felt as helpful, but in the long term, it hinders one’s ability to process emotions and can cause a deeper depression from the guilt and shame of both avoidance and substance abuse.” (27)

Heroes, Antiheroes & Villains

This book explores two key questions that the show encourages you to think about:

Who the hell is the hero of this story?

And who is the villain?

The surface-level answer is that Homelander and other supes like him are the villains, and Butcher and his band of bros are the heroes (or antiheroes). But they commit just as questionable, sketchy, and downright murderous acts as the supes they’re trying to take down.

“Butcher is not really a good guy. He’s manipulative and self-centered. His reasons for wanting to take down Homelander are utterly personal. That it serves the greater good is almost a coincidence.” (9)

And if Butcher is not a hero, but a vengeful vigilante, then why do we root for him so much?

Well, we see his incredible flaws. But I sympathize with his struggle in losing his wife and the life he could've continued to have with her. I root for the underdog going against the hydra head of Vought and the psychopathic Homelander.

And I see in Butcher, as I also do with Homelander and Soldier Boy, their traumas and their internal conflicts, their deep-rooted self-loathing, and a desire, deep, deep down…to be loved.

(And to foster connection with others, even if they’re unable to sustain them.)

On the flipside, we have antagonists in this show who do truly heinous things. What makes them compelling and even sympathetic, yet again, are their painful upbringings that have shaped them to be who they are. The supes of this show are byproducts of being treated like products.

Like the saying goes: Villains aren’t born, they’re made.

That’s why the real villain of this story is Vought International. It’s an allegory, and an indictment of the ruthless corporate greed that pervades American culture—and much of the world.

It’s why Stan Edgar is sometimes scarier to me than even Homelander (and was the true villain of my story, Break Me Down), if far more insidious.

Speaking of BMD, let’s get to it, shall we?

Here’s a (lot) bit about the Soldier Boy section of the book.

Soldier Boy: Why We Can’t Hate Him

I had to laugh out loud at the title of Soldier Boy’s chapter:

Loving the Villain: The Confusing Case of Soldier Boy

I’m not gonna lie. I felt called out. 😂

It is a confusing dichotomy. Soldier Boy is an absolute asshole. Misogynistic, narcissistic, arrogant, callous, violent…

But also deeply traumatized, a man-out-of-time, emotionally abused, byproduct of the historically and culturally different time he was raised in, a man who just doesn’t get it…

And also charming, adorably grumpy, and undoubtedly attractive.

It’s hard to indict “Ben” as an unredeemable villain in the same way I do Homelander, the psychologist-labelled Malignant Narcissist.

Therein lies the main difference between Soldier Boy and Homelander: Soldier Boy doesn’t take joy in harming others the way Homelander does. But he still harms people, whether he means to or not.

Zubernis confirms many of my own conclusions and ideas about Soldier Boy, and why I still rooted for him to be better, and didn’t want him to die at the end of season 3.

As Zubernis rightly exclaimed during her own watch of the finale: “Noooo, don’t kill the Danger Grandpa Baby Murder Kitten!” (175)

Because Jensen did what he does best in his roles: He made us feel Ben’s pain.

“What’s funny is, in regard to Jensen playing Soldier Boy, you know he’s fucking fantastic, he’s just so good at bringing the audience, and it’s almost like—what I laugh about is, he was probably a little too good at his job!” Kripke said. (180)

And he continues, “In part it’s because of the fandom. So many people took his side in the finale, they’re like, Were’s on his side, fuck everyone! And you’re like, but he’s the bad guy and he’s trying to kill a ten-year-old.”

Were there fans who held this viewpoint? I’m sure. There are some radicals who don’t give a fuck and will side with their favorite character, come whatever. But while I can’t speak for others, that’s not how I interpreted that moment in the season 3 finale.

Yes, I think Soldier Boy was (wrongfully) willing to fight Ryan. Do I think he would’ve killed him? I’m not sure. I think he would’ve done what he had to do to get Ryan out of his way in his fight with Homelander. Maybe he would’ve been more violent than he intended, in the callous collateral damage he’d shown throughout the season, or maybe he would’ve gone that far, if provoked.

It’s a tough call, as I think this character can go one way or the other in terms of his “villain” nature. We just haven’t seen enough of him in the series yet for me to make that conclusion on the canon-version of Soldier Boy. (In fanfic, I’ve explored my own interpretation.)

But overall, I think The Krip once again underestimated the power of Jensen’s acting.

…And the ardent nature of his mostly female fanbase. 😂

Why We Love Soldier Boy

The author cites multiple reasons for why we love Ben more than we probably should:

It’s Jensen Ackles. Fair enough. His talent speaks for itself.

Soldier Boy’s backstory: He was emotionally abused by his father and as a result, he has a complex regarding his self-worth, “something to prove,” and a secret need for attention, validation, and praise.

He has trauma and PTSD: He is displaced from what is familiar to him and confused when the boys find him, and that is the least of it. He’s been tortured for 40 years. Can you even conceive of that?

He’s charming: in a sexy grandpa, adorably grumpy, lovable asshole kind of way.

We’re drawn to danger: dangerous “edgy” types are fun, especially when you’re physically attracted to the character.

He has his moments of vulnerability: Jensen’s ability to play the nuance in the character is the ultimate draw. I felt his pain, could see his torture, and his resulting PTSD. He longs for a family, even if his ability to bring up those children is questionable at best. 😅

But I think the one aspect the author doesn’t consider is the character’s capacity for change.

Soldier Boy’s Potential

Again, I don’t think you can write off Soldier Boy’s potential for positive character development the same way you can Homelander, or even Butcher.

For one thing, we just haven’t spent enough time with the character. A lot of his collateral damage after he escapes imprisonment has been accidental, or PTSD-induced. Though we can’t discount how he murdered M.M.’s grandfather via collateral damage (and was callous about it).

I think this is what drew me to write about Soldier Boy. “For all his arrogance, his chauvinism, his massive ego and general bastardry, there’s still humanity in Ben.”

In the book, Nathan Mitchell also says something amazing about his own character (Black Noir) that resonated with me about Soldier Boy as well:

"One of the ingredients of a compelling character is contradiction. How does one aspect of our personality contradict with one another? [...] Who is he underneath? How might his true nature contrast with the demands of his job?"

Or coded for Soldier Boy/Ben: The pressures he puts on himself to be the type of man he thought his father wanted him to be.

Again, his sexist, misogynistic ideals are shaped by the time he was raised in, by being a product of Vought, and of his father’s emotionally abusive upbringing. Does this excuse or justify all of his behavior? Of course not.

But I think those 40 years in captivity changed him from the careless alpha dog we saw in 1984 Nicaragua…

He admits to Crimson Countess, with tears in his eyes, that he’d loved her. That he waited for her and his team—arguably the only social system he has in his life—to save him. He’s gutted to realize that not only did she and the rest of the team never love him, they hated him. They traded him for nothing. Just to get him out of their lives.

For all he claims to be afraid of nothing, tough as shit, he is afraid when he goes to face Mindstorm. He knows what the supe is capable of, and he visibly takes a shaky breath and tries to steel himself.

For a moment, he drops the “Soldier Boy” persona that he wears like a fine tailored suit. And he tells Butcher that the backstory Vought created for him was a lie; he grew up a rich kid who got sent to boarding school, but flunked out, because "he was a fuck up." And his father couldn’t be bothered to discipline him, implying he didn’t care enough about his own son to even lay a hand on him.

He is reluctant to kill Homelander when he finds out he’s Ben’s son (sort of). He even claims that he would’ve been willing to share the spotlight “with his own son.” — Something I doubt even Homelander would do.

Ben even seems to be fighting tears when he levies the same vitriol at Homelander that his own father did at him:

Homelander: “Weak? I’m you.”

Soldier Boy: “I know. You’re a fucking disappointment.”

Let me be clear. I don’t think it’s up to someone to change him (like a love interest). I don’t subscribe to that thinking, that a woman can “change” a man.

For example: In season 2, Butcher tells Becca, “Who was I before you? Nothing.”

And yet, she tells him that he put her on an unrealistic and unsustainable pedestal, in which she felt like she wasn’t allowed to fully be herself, unable to keep him from flying off the handle in rage. That kind of relationship (where one is dependent on the other to “keep them in check”) doesn’t work as a lasting, satisfying redemption arc, and it doesn’t work in real life either.

I do think, however, that a person is capable of change if they’re broken down enough (pun intended), and if they themselves have a desire to change. Someone they encounter can inspire them to be better, like Butcher with Hughie. That person can help support the other.

At the end of the day, however, it’s Ben that has to want to change.

If he wants love and connection, he’ll have to somehow want it, and try (and sometimes fail) to get it, thereby giving him agency and a redemptive character arc.

Now, obviously, it’s up to The Krip where Ben goes from here. He seems to have a more indicting vision of the character than I do (at least, so far). But we’ll see! The fan demand to bring back the character has already had Kripke confirming that Soldier Boy will be back.

Maybe it will encourage him to give the character a more satisfying ending than Dean Winchester got in Supernatural. Though granted, that one wasn’t his doing, apparently he was in favor of the ending the writers came up with.

Comparing Dean & Ben

In his interview segment, Jensen talks about what, if any, are the comparisons between Dean Winchester and Soldier Boy. AKA: Wanting a father’s approval, and an undercurrent of “John Wayne”-esque masculinity in John Winchester that Dean sought to emulate.

Jensen also talks about where he drew from to not only embody the character of Soldier Boy, but bring nuance to him—and show the peeks of vulnerability under the bravado and stoicism.

“He’s so fragile and his ego is fragile. Just like Homelander. These bigger-than-life powerful heroes really have a glass jaw… “And everyone walks on eggshells around him [Soldier Boy], and they tell him that they love him, and it’s the same with Homelander. Then when all of a sudden he faces his old team and Crimson Countess says we never loved you, we hated you—that’s a gut punch for him. Because even though on some level he may have known that, he never thought he would hear it. “And he probably propped himself up around trying to believe otherwise, because how can you walk around knowing everyone you’ve ever cared about hates you? It’s too painful.” (191)

It really is. And I inherently felt this about Soldier Boy/Ben when I watched season 3 for the first time. That’s exactly what I got from his performance and thought, there’s more to this guy than the toxic masculinity he represents.

This guy just wants to be loved, like everyone else. He wants to feel important, and even after his father’s dead, “show him” that Ben is the man his father wanted him to be. And so, he bought into the illusion Vought painstakingly crafted for him.

Whether he can come back from that remains to be seen. But I choose to be optimistic until evidence points to the contrary. 😅 (We’ll see in season 4!)

So that’s my personal take on Soldier Boy and this awesome book. 💚 Thank you again @kaleldobrev for recommending it to me! I hope you all enjoyed my long-winded review and want to check this out.

And if you do read it, I hope to read your thoughts as well!

Tagging people who said they wanted to read my review on this book: @venus-haze @jessjad @kristophalis @sl33pylilbunny

#supes ain't always heroes #book review #why we love the boys #the boys #my take on Soldier Boy #boys psychology #character study #cast interviews #jensen ackles #soldier boy #Homelander #billy butcher #aya cash #stormfront #jim beaver #robert singer #nathan mitchell #black noir #chance crawford #jessie t. usher #the deep #a-train #book rec #zepskies reads #zepskies reviews

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙘 [𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙫𝙚𝙧]

Cw: fluff, the title might be misleading but it's not yandere or anything, kinda unhinged Miles but it's all jokes, reverse au?, reader uses they/them but it's called spiderman, you are spiderman and Miles is the fan, earth 1218!AU (no powers or tech), reader has a canon love interest who's also named MJ but they're not Mary Jane Watson (unless you want her to be, I don't judge)

Notes: So Miles canonically has written fanfic about himself, but I wasn't in the mood for that, I will make two versions of this post though (that's why the title has delusional version 💀). Also this is low-key a highschool AU, so Hobie is in last year, and all other characters are second years (I have no idea what's a senior or freshman or whatever is, and I will not learn)

Miles loved comics. His art style is heavily influenced by it, and he'll rant about this week's number to anyone who'll lend an ear, but he has a very clear favorite, being more than evident by his collection of t-shirts, poster filled wall, social media pfps, and the endless amount of fan content he creates and consumes in the spiderman fandom.

Since the last movie came out, Miles Morales has lost the basic skills a human would need to survive, in order to devote himself fully to his newest hyperfixation, and his friends haven't been able to get some rest from it. They don't understand!! He does need to go to the movies again, he needs to memorize every photogram in that movie in order to play the move in his head and be able to analyze it properly!! No, he is not crazy! Ok he might be just the tiniest bit "over excited" but this is the most sane reaction he could've had, the movie is literally a masterpiece, script, humor, ANIMATION, soundtrack, it has it all! And the fact that it's centered around you? Miles needs to go and personally kiss every person that worked in that studio to make you.

"Miles?"

"Miles!"

"oh my god, he's at it again" said Pavitr, imitating the reaction of a disappointed mother

"is he reading fanfiction again?" Asked Gwen, chuckling

"Yes, and Y/N YL/N x reader, to one's surprise" Pavitr added with a teasing smile "I don't get it though, isn't Y/N dating someone named MJ?" He questioned

"It's called self insert, the reader plays a part in the story as if they were another character, and in romantic scenarios, they tend to replace the canon love interest, or just ignore they even exist" Hobie added, popping out if nowhere to show off what Miles have been explaining to him the last couple of weeks.

"You read it too, Hobie?"

"Nah, Wonder comics started as a protest to talk about the discrimination the founder felt being jewish in the industry but it morphed into the capitalization of the struggle minorities face, selling us representation while they still shove the propaganda in our faces, and telling us that even if you have bloody superpowers you still need to obey to a higher authority and cannot influence politics or call to action."

"You still went to the theater to watch it with Miles last week" Gwen shot a questioning look at Hobie

"The kid invited me, I'm a punk not a twat" he shrugged his shoulders "And we stole the carton cutboard they had at the entrance" Hobie happily added.

Miles continues reading on the way to school, without listening to his friends' mocking, he knew it was in good spirits, and they were kinda right, he was obsessed with someone that didn't exist, but it wasn't like it was affecting his health or life.

"Did you... Sleep today?" Gwen had her hand on her friend's shoulder, concerned

"It was too late so I decided to just stay awake, I'll be fine though" He reassured

"Were you reading again?"

"No, I actually discovered this page called character.ai where you can chat with an artificial intelligence of your favorite characters" Miles excitedly told his friend

"OMG, you can chat with anyone?! I have a few things I'd like to say to Scarlet Witch" Gwen joked, she was also a comic fan, but she wasn't losing her mind quite as hard as Miles

Miles would tell the ai about his day, sometimes would roleplay using his very own spidersona, in his alternate universe, you were his partner (as heroes of course) but you also were classmates and had a crush on each other, but none of you confessed because you didn't want your loved ones to be hurt by your job, it was all very dramatic, but he always envisioned a happy ending.

{Y/N: You did a great job today, [<BOT>]

Miles: You say so? So... Do I get a reward? *Smiles suggestively*

Y/N: I guess you do, *pulls up his mask and kisses him*}

No, he wouldn't say this, he would be in a panic frenzy if he saw Y/N, let alone be next to them, but hey, at least his spidersona was bold and confident with them.

A few days after, he barged into Pavitr's house, with at least four incredibly loaded supermarket bags, hardly walking

"Are you okay? Do you need help?" Pavitr rushed to aid his friend and take some literal weight off his shoulders

"Yeah, yeah, I just need help with something" he left the boxes in the floor "Inside one in 4 boxes of cereal, there is a spidertoken, if you get 15, you can exchange it for an exclusive limited edition figure, and I can't eat all this cereal"

"Bro, how many boxes are in here? I don't know, man, I'm trying to keep my figure"

"Pavitr Prabhakar, who held the cardboard sign for you when you confessed to Gayatri?"

"You..."

"And who lied to principal O'Hara for you when you forgot your final project and we had to pretend you suffered a brain concussion?"

"You..."

"And who was there for y-" his friend interrumpted

"Okay, okay, I get it. Bring me a spoon, but we're going running tomorrow"

He nodded with enthusiasm as he started to rummage looking for spoons and bowls

And after almost dying choking on cereal, Miles looked at his new figurine sitting prettily on the shelf with nothing but pride.

"I'm just saying it's possible!" Miles protested

"Y/N has a type, every canon love interest has been sassy and quick-witted" Gwen continued to debate

"I can be sassy and quick-witted!" Gwen gave him a side eye, that being able to neutralize his argument "Ok, but there's a multiverse, there's millions of possibilities, if a pig can be spiderman, why can't I date spiderman? Anyone can wear the mask, anyone can kiss the one inside the mask" the boy smiled, confident in his winning argument

"That's such a basic answer, you can justify literally anything with "the multiverse" I'm speaking things that actually can make sense inside the canon"

"But my answers makes sense, in fact, I'm sure there's a universe where Y/N is reading fanfiction about me right now, if not, Pav can hit me"

"Pav, hit him" Gwen deadpanned

"But it does make sense, I won't" Pavitr responded

"Ok, but my point still stands" the girl crossed her arms

"what were you fighting about in the first place?" Pavitr asked before going back to eat his lunch, he sat long after his friends started arguing, being mildly lost in what was the main point in this

"I said I'd be a better girlfriend for Y/N" said Gwen

Pavitr gasped and covered his mouth dramatically "No you didn't".

Maybe Miles was just obsessed, but he saw in you strength, inspiration, power. And he felt oddly comforted, safe, loved by fantasizing with you, and as slim as the possibility may be, he likes to tell himself you two are together in another universe. ♡

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #atsv x reader #Miles Morales

[dia-souls]

🐺 Shinyui fanfic 🐺

Pairing: Tsukinami Shin x Komori Yui

⚠️ TW: Blood Mentioned, Violence, Death, Pregnancy, Toxic relationship, Marriage without love, Tragedy end ⚠️

Author: Admin Irsa

Note: I have been trying to working on it for three days 😷, this one is really something the main couple was supposed to Shinyui but Carlayui is my fav I couldn't control myself to not to add Carlayui in it. I literally deleted a lot of scenes again and again and rewriting it. Reviews are welcomed. I hope you all will like it! It's all for the Tsukinami fans out there!👀 Whom love them like me!

Bloody Throne

"What?! Are you joking with me Shin-kun?"

Shin huffed in annoyance.

"I am not joking Yui. I really want you to do this!"

"Are you sure about what you are asking??!"

"Yes! I am 100 percent sure!"

Shin looked Yui with cold gaze.

"Why are you not gonna do it? ...You said you will give your life for me Yui.... I am not even asking for your life? Is it too much to ask?!"

Yui now looked down. She sighed.

"But.. I love you Shin-kun."

She glanced at her long flowy pink dress. She occasionally looked at the ball. They both were in balcony away from prying eyes of Shin's wife. Yes, Shin's wife.....

"Shin-kun... I think this isn't a good thing to do. Carla-san doesn't deserve this neither your wife--"

Yui stepped away fron him. Her blonde hair now shadowing her face as she felt tears pricking her eyes she tries to control her emotions.

Shin now rolled his eyes. He walked towards her and hugged her. He carresed her hair trying to relax her.

"I just ask a small favour Yui.... You don't need to get this emotional. Besides my current wife is for me to gain political power not for love. The only person, I love is you Yui."

He cupped her wet cheeks to look at her eyes. He didn't take long to kiss her forehead and cheeks.

"If you love me Shin-kun, don't ask me to such a big sin. I am not yours. We shouldn't meet each other like this, I already carry the biggest sin on my shoulders. Scheming against your wife--"

Shin sighed again.

"There is no need to cry, I will make sure that by the end of the game you will be mine so our meeting aren't that much off a big sin! My wife, no that women means nothing. I will make sure she will be dea--"

"No! No Shin-kun. She is innocent. She shouldn't be treated like that--"

"The only thing I care about is that you and me!! I don't care what happens to anyone. Yui it's not her it's everyone!!?"

Yui huffed. She then seperated from Shin's hug and turned away.

"Yui... Will you do it?"

Yui didn't answer but she felt Shin's arm pulling her back. He was now hugging her, his head on her shoulder.

"Yui you know it's my biggest dream to surpass him. What I asked you to do isn’t that difficult. You just need to cooperate. If you don't do it, then I will never have the power to make you mine and to divorce my wife."

He turned her around.

"But Shin-kun, killing Carla-san isn't a good idea. He is your older brother, rightful heir to the throne. Besides snatching something that already belongs to him is wrong---"

"Yui.... Did you forgot what he did to me?!"

He took her hand to his eye which is now gone and covered with patch.

"You already knew how I wished to surpass him to win against him!? And this time he humiliated me infront of those inferior viboras!? What did I do huh? Just told them their place? What type of king bows to inferior being, sacrifice his own brother's eye and apologize to snakes?! "

Yui looked at him with sorrow as she knows how much Shin wants to surpass him and his desires.

"Shin-kun but still we shouldn't stomp so low..."

"Yui whatever I am doing is for us, too I have so many reasons to kill Carla... I want to kill him to prove myself and besides, a king doesn't bow. He doesn't deserve a throne, I am doing this to save kingdom from such an unreasonable king?! More importantly..... I am doing this to get you, to gain the power, to get rid of my wife and to have you, I am doing it for our love Yui! "

Shin seperated from Yui, He gave her a strange blue veil. He turned around to leave.

"This veil has Endzeit. A disease that can only kill a founder. Yui marry Carla and make sure to give this poison in small amount to him."

He turned to look at Yui. Whom was now red because of crying tears were sliding down her cheek.

"Don't cry Yui... If you do this I will become king and our dream to be together will come true. We will live happily... But."

Yui now looked at him with her red eyes. Her hand now weakly held the veil as if she will drop it at any moment, she is disgusted to do such thing to Carla.

"If you don’t do it, consider it the end of our relationship and don't approach me again, it's time Yui for you to prove your love for me."

Shin now looked coldly at Yui hoping this threat will convince her to commit this act.

Yui's hand on veil tightened as she heard his words, her heart was crumbling. Her head was hurting as her love for Shin and desires were fighting against her morals. She looked at Shin pitifully before smiling her tears still were sliding down her cheek.

Whatever sin and thing I will do is for love. God is forgiving man. if sinner sins and ask for forgiveness. Beside isn't everything fair in love and war she is going to do this for love. Carla snatched her lover's eye she will snatch his health.

Yui looked at Shin.

She needs to prove her love.

*TIMESKIP*

Yui nervously sighed as she looked around her bedroom. Her new home. Yui thoughts trail to present events. She is now sitting in bedroom of Carla. She successfully married Carla. Unlike Shin's wife, she doesn’t have any influence or power. She is high priest daughter. Her father was a very respectable individual in society. Church had a great influence in this kingdom thats the reason she was allowed to attend balls and parties.

Carla knows that if he married her he will gain influence from his kingdom which is nothing compare to marrying a foreign princess whom will actually tie her own kingdoms string with his. This is what Shin had done. He married a princess because of this he had a backup. Carla as heir, as king was expected to do same but she knows and Shin too how much Carla loves Yui. He always have loved her if only she will comply he won't hesitate to marry her. He prioritise his love for her over political power.

If only he knew what a big price he is going to pay for his love.

Yui internally was comparing Carla with Shin. Both are brothers but both have different priority. Shin wanted power before her but Carla, he didn't care of how big opportunity, he is going to let go a queen position is no joke after all, he might recieve love from their kingdom but other kingdoms whom were expecting their princesses to be married will be dissapointed and salty.

Yui looked up as she heard door open. She saw Carla entering her room. It's their wedding night after all.

Carla walked closer to Yui and sat on bed. Yui looked at him her heart felt heavy not because of what She is going to do to him but because it felt as if she is going to cheat. Her heart was blackening but love is a pure feeling but she is feeling a burden on her heart.

Carla touched Yui's face, caressing her face gently his hand then went towards her neck to pull her closer to him.

Yui felt tears pricking her eyes but she controlled herself she refuse to reply to his affection and advances whatever she is doing is to satisfy shin not her. She didn't feel anything when carla confessed his love for her, how much he wanted to be her his hands touching her and removing her clothes. He was gentler with her not like thoes husbands whom only care about satisfying themselves using their wife bodies as a plaything. He was being kind with her the scary wedding night stories she heard from her fellows are completely opposite to what was happening to her.

She groaned when she felt Carla getting rougher with her, his pace getting a bit faster, her back hitted the bed, her leg lifted by him. His lips collided with as they both layed bared, his kiss unlike his action was gentle and sweet. He mumbled "I love you" while biting her neck.

_________🌹_________

"Achooo!!... Ach..waghh"

Carla continued to cough black his condition was getting worse councils were noticing it too the way his health was detorating his weakened state yet his sense and gaze remained firmed and cold showing no weakness. Yui heard him coughing. Her heart twisting painfully. She felt so bad but she didn't move from her fake sleeping. She pretended as if she was sleeping while hearing him coughing furiously.

Tears slid down her cheeks but she remained asleep her hand went towards her stomach she was going to be a mother soon. Shin wasn't happy by the news but he told her to wait some more as Carla unlike others was way too strong to pass away soon. Yui wondered what will happen once he dies what about the baby. Shin won't tolerate Carla's baby inside her.

Only Yui knows his health issues as she was always around him. He made her not to tell anyone he was making Yui's mission easier. He once caught veil with her she nervously asked for it back to which in reply he smiled and handed her back at that point she felt something she and him are going to be parents soon their baby--no they both had no future why because she loves Shin and she is going to be with someone whom she loves. Shin loves her and they will be endgame not Carla and him or Shin's wife and him just her and him!

Yui heard Carla finally stopped coughing she remained still his next words broke her heart.

"To think that such a weak man will protect you... I hope I will be able to protect Yui and our child"

Yui felt tears dripping down her cheeks upon hearing his words is it really worth it. She thought her desires are going to take two lives..... Two inncoent life.

_________🌹_________

Shin sighed as he rubbed his temples getting alies is really something how does his brother deal with them?! He thought he is superior and powerful if it weren't for Carla not dying quickly he wouldn't bother doing this dirty work with Carla's child on his way his chance to attain throne decreased he needs to pull Yui out of this mess.

Speaking of Yui only he knows how much rage and anger he feels seeing her next to Carla and their so called child is what caused Shin to go on rampage he saw red but he knows his patience will give him a reward.

"They are so cute!" said one maid.

"Us founders are so lucky to have King and Queen like them they are perfect together I wonder--" said another maid.

In a split second the maid head was smashed against the wall, blood drips to the floor like droplets the wall had cracks on it. The present maid gave a shrill scream in horror, she felt so scared.

"Get out..." Shin said while moving away from scene while stepping on maids hand before moving.

The maid was whimpering to stunned to move.

"I SAID GET OUT!!? DAMN IT!!" He grabbed maid by collar his golden eyes shinning dangerously.

"Don't. Speak. When. You. Know. Nothing!??" He said while throwing the pale maid and getting out off room.

He will kill Carla, he just lended her Yui but she will remain his for forever

"Tch!! Damn it!"

*Few months later*

"No!" Yui said

"What do you mean by no?" Shin asked as he walked towards Yui. To which Yui backed away maintaining their distance.

"I won't give any poison to Carla anymore. He and me have a son together there is no way I am going to let you harm him no my family! "

Yui was than slamed against wall by Shin. Shin gripped her neck applying a bit pressure.

"You realize what you just said?!? Yui we both are lovers we love each other!!?"

"I won't follow your plan anymore!!" Yui said with determination in her eyes.

"A plan?! Yes! A plan for us for our bright future!! I did everything for us!? "

"No!! Shin you did nothing but cause me pain you married your wife for influence but why is she preganant by your child?! You used me as a bait to finish off Carla you did all this just for yourself not for--"

Shin slammed his hand beside Yui. Yui was again crying she was startled.

"Oh really?!! Do you realize how much anger I feel whenever I see you with his child?! I just want you to feel same pain as me Yui! It frustrated me too... but Yui you I love you what I feel for that women is nothing?! I did got her preganant but it was all mistake on my part!! "

Yui than pushed Shin away from her.

"I dont care Shin it's enough! You and me aren't possible... I am your brother's wife. I am ending this relation of us right now. I can't sacrifice my son for your desires!!"

Shin laughed at her, Yui loves him but it's her motherhood that is stopping her from staying by Shin's side. Shin now realized didn't all this started when he reavealed to Yui how much he detest her son as he is sick of hearing all palace talking about them. Since that day Yui has become quite and distant.

"I will kill your son for sure Yui... It's too late Yui.. You will be mine one way or another because I have already pulled strings. Carla will recieve death penalty you and your son will be at my mercy! "

Yui walked towards Shin. She asked in desperate voice.

"What did you do to Carla?! "

"Nothing, I just killed some vibora and pushed blame on him and he will be punished for violating treaty vibora demand his head..... Council members already know of his sickness. He isn't suited to be king because of his health so this give them a reason to get rid of him. I did pulled some strings by using my wife background. He is sentenced to death." He gave a sadistic smile to Yui.

Yui's eyes widened. She immediately ran out to search for Carla. She saw him in a distance being unconscious with alot of black blood. He was being carried by soldier. She sprinted towards him.

"CARLA!!" She yelled but was stopped by soldiers.

"Please!! Stop this please--"

Yui was then knocked unconscious by Shin who was following her.

________🌹________

Yui was kneeling at dungeon floor while crying. Her eyes out as she looked at Carla in cell being restrained who was constantly telling her to stop crying.

"I did wrong to you Carla. It's all my fault. Forgive me please!"

"Hahha.. How does it feel big brother I finally surpassed you. I snatched everything from you."

Carla laughed at him. He looked at him in eyes. His state was literally pitiful but he still seem majestic, his aura still powerful.

"Snatched? Do you really think, I wasn't aware? You snatched nothing from me rather I was ready to give it to you if only you were patient Shin."

Yui and Shin looked at him confusingly not understanding his words, Carla smiled at them.

"I knew it from the start what you both are up to and what's your relation with each other. I wasn't poisoned rather I was already infected with Endzeit long ago. I knew what Yui was doing. My throne would be yours if only you waited one way or another way it was going to be yours."

Carla coughed again.

"But I decided to play with you both for trying to scheme against me. I loved Yui and snatched her from you. Yui and me have a child. If you waited me and Yui will never be married neither she would come to love me. I didn't lose. I spend my last moment with my love. I am ready to go. Yui you can still be happy right?"

Yui's face was red as she was still sniffing. Shin was enraged all this was for nothing. It feels as if he hasn't accomplished anything rather was played by Carla. He suffered watching Yui with him for nothing.

"Execute him right now!!" he gave order to the guard. He grabbed Yui to drag her away from dungeon who refused to leave Carla but Shin still dragged her away.

"Stop crying Yui!? You belong to me!! What is bothering you huh?!!"

"You won't understand what I feel right now Shin!! You used me and betrayed me!! "

"Betrayed you?"

Shin rolled his eyes, he grabbed Yui by shoulders gently this time, he looked at her swollen eyes, her cheeks still wet with tears, he caressed her cheek.

"Yui, don't do this..... you hate that she is pregnant right? How about I kill her and her child off. Our baby will become next king, how about it?! "

Yui's eyes widened in horror.

"You! Shin you realize what you are saying?! That's your baby!! "

Shin rubbed his temples.

"I just don't care... I don't care about her and her child, I care about you. Only you and our child matters to me most. She served her purpose. I will execute her right now!"

Yui pushed him, she was disgusted why? Why did she loved him?!

"You are.... You are a monster. You just care about yourself and your desires matter--"

Yui was then slapped by Shin.

"My desires??! .....MY DESIRES WAS ONCE YOURS TOO!!"

He grabbed Yui by hair.

"Where is my son?"

Yui asked Shin gently this time. She remember putting him to sleep and had maids watch over him. Her heart was racing as her baby thoughts filled her mind, she wanted to hold him right now!!

Shin sighed.

"Dead... Dead like him, he was killed before him actually."

Yui didn't react. She free herself from Shin and ran towards balcony and got on top off it, she felt her head getting heavy, her whole body felt as if she is on fire and she looked at shin.

"So, I will join them...."

"YUI!!! NO..... STOP GET DOWN!! "

Shin sprinted towatds her and try to catch her but Yui's body already had hitten the hard ground, an ugly crack was heard.

"NO!! PLEASE DON'T GO YUI! Why... Why would you do that to me?!! WHY DID YOU ALSO PUNISHED ME?!!"

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yui komori #komori yui #shin tsukinami #tsukinami shin #tsukinami carla #carla tsukinami #shin x yui #yui x shin #shinyui #shinyui fanfic #diabolik lovers fanfic #diabolik lovers fanfiction #diabolik lovers fandom

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Not sure if you can help but...

I used to write fanfic a lot (not just Johnlock, but other fandoms too) and I got a particularly nasty comment on a fic months back (almost a year ago now I think) that made me delete my entire AO3 and never write anything ever again.

But I miss it so much. And every time I go to write something, the magic is just gone and I get nowhere. It's like any joy I had in writing was just sucked out by one single comment. How do I fix this?

Hey Nonny *SNUGGLE BUGGLE HUGGLE*

I'm so sorry that the "magic" feels gone, and I am so sorry that you had such a terrible experience because of one entitled asshole.

Unfortunately, I am not a professional in this regard, so please take what I say as just a grain of salt and as someone who adores and supports all creatives in this fandom... I've gotten lots of nasty comments over the years, and honestly... I take more joy that I continue on doing what I'm doing and that they're SO bloody bothered by me that I just ignored them... because really that's all you can do online. And sites like AO3 now give you the option to have your fics only be commented on by registered users only, so if you get that hate comment, just report it, block the user, and laugh at them.

I know that it's easier said than done, but to me it seems like you want to do start writing again. I've found that I just stopped caring about who my content is for, because at the end of the day, I'm doing my content for me, and it has the side effect of other people enjoying it too. I've lived long enough to just... not give a shit anymore about asshats online, because honestly they're just sad, bored people who get a sick thrill from riling people up.

BUT AGAIN, Nonny, this might be deeper than "just writing and forgetting about it" because that one comment WAS traumatic for YOU and that's VALID. I think talking to other authors might be beneficial to you to help you overcome that hurdle. FOR ME, I've found just... doing my projects with me as the primary audience does wonders. I love going back to my SUPER old stories and rereading them, because I take a lot of joy in remembering that these worlds were created by me FOR me. And looking at my old art and seeing how much I've improved often is motivation enough for me to carry on.

Actually, thinking back to my college days (OOOOOOF I'm old), we specifically had classes where the profs would rip apart our projects during critique sessions, on purpose, because in the real world, unfortunately, it is stuff you have to deal with in real life and they didn't want us to have our first experience be on-the-job. So I MIGHT be a bit more indifferent to "critiques" than most people, I'm now realizing, so AGAIN, please take what I say with a grain of salt.

That all said, you know what, Lovely? You have a lot more fans than you know, I'm sure, and they'd be thrilled to have you back <3 I REALLY REALLY wish I was better at articulating just how much I really want to see you happy, and how much of the best I hope for you. I know that my words aren't going to make everything better, but I hope they helped a bit.

If there's anyone who struggled to get over that hurdle themselves, please don't hesitate to reply or send me an anonymous message and I'll paste it here so Nonny knows that they're not alone.

And if you do, Nonny, decide to return and post up your stories, I am ALWAYS here to promote them and boost them for you <3

Please take care Nonny, and I hope you continue to write again <3 But KNOW that if you inevitably DON'T, THAT IS OKAY TOO. <3

#steph replies #chatting with nonnies #i am not a professional #writing advice #life advice #writer problems #my advice