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comphy-and-cozy · 3 months

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GASLIGHT - andrei svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Summary: A dance of desperation, destruction, and desire with the man who broke your heart.

Word Count: 5.4K

Author’s Note: This is about a year in the making thanks to the thirsty, depraved minds of @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech. Inspired strongly by gaslight by inji, I present to you: toxic, cocky ex Andrei.

Warnings: Toxic relationship, dubcon/drunk consent, infidelity. Alcohol use/mention. Smut (18+ ONLY): Unprotected sex, very public sex/exhibitionism, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), heavy degradation, Andrei has a filthy mouth.

Your media consumption is your responsibility. Do not proceed if any of the above warnings will trigger, hurt, or offend you. Masterlist / Moodboard

In all fairness, you knew Andrei Svechnikov was trouble as soon as your eyes locked with his at that fateful frat party, bathed in a deep blue light strobing on the ceiling. Even then, it was etched into his handsome face, his smile far too confident to be anything but a terrible, terrible idea. But you were young, dumb, and all too willing to fall for the broad Russian with the dimples and a body that looked like it was sculpted out of clay. He was way too hot to resist, and really, what’s a girl to do?

In all honesty, he was sweet at first, even genuine. He held the door open for you, walked you to class, let you wear his jersey. He swept you off your feet with an ease that should’ve had your radar beeping, but you were already in too deep to notice. Besides, you had no reason to believe that the handsome, charming boy with a toothy smile would be anything but wonderful.

Oh, how wrong you were.

When you look back on the chapter of your life regretfully titled ‘Andrei’, the pages stained with tears and spilled ink from all of the letters you never sent, you’ll remember the red flags that you didn’t notice (or maybe willfully ignored), heading straight into a myriad of heartbreak. You two were toxic together, in a seemingly endless cycle of hurt and betrayal.

But it was hands down, unequivocally, the best sex you’ve ever had.

And that’s what kept you coming back, even when he’d pull his shit and make his excuses for the hickeys on his neck that you didn’t put there or the purple thong on his floor that was a size too small for you. You’d turn a blind eye, pretending not to see, pretending that it didn’t sting after the sweet nothings he’d whisper to you after a night in his sheets.

The real turning point of your relationship was when you saw him leaving your sorority house the morning after a night out, a clear walk of shame—except you’d gone to bed alone. Seeing the bedhead and hickeys on your sorority sister, Callie, was all you needed to put the pieces together, your heart shattering for the first time.

So, after crying until you made yourself sick, drinking more tequila than you’d care to admit, you brushed yourself off, rose from the ashes, and did what any logical and sane girl would do in your shoes: fuck his teammate. And then another. And another. You took your rage and all of the hurt that simmered beneath your surface and channeled it into sweet, satisfying, addicting revenge. The orgasms weren’t quite the same, but you were surprised at how good getting even felt. Seeing the look on his face when he’d come down the stairs to find you in the kitchen, in a ratty old t-shirt of one of his friends… priceless.

From then on, you and Andrei were locked in what felt like an eternal battle at who could out-toxic the other. You thrived on knowing you were riling him up, getting under his skin, burrowing your way into his psyche to ensure he’d never forget you and would forever regret betraying you. You were the one who got away, not the other way around.

From the moment you stepped into the bar that fateful night, instantly feeling his eyes crawling over your legs, you couldn’t deny that you had voluntarily set yourself up for it. Unable to resist his charm, dripping in honey, trouble etched into the predatory gaze he held on you, there was no way you were getting out unscathed.

His white button-up is a size too small, hugging his muscles in a way that makes the fabric fight against the buttons in the middle. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the corded muscle of his forearms on display, the expensive watch sitting on his thick wrist. He wears it everywhere he goes, so you know he couldn’t have done it on purpose, but you can’t help but feel he knew you’d be there tonight, exposing it with the sole intention of driving you wild.

So, it’s only to be expected that you make your way over to a friend of his, slinking up beside him at the bar with a seductive smile and wide eyes, leaning into him and letting your hand rest on his bicep while you laugh at his joke. It feels over the top—because it is—but you’re fueled by the knowledge that Andrei will be fuming once he sees it. It’s the same old cat-and-mouse game that you always play, pushing his buttons even from afar.

It makes for the best foreplay.

Your new beau—Scott—struts off to the bar, smug at how easy his win tonight is. He barely had to work to have you hanging all over him, and the prospect of getting you into his bed at the end of the night is all but a slam dunk. Your eyes watch him, appreciatively admiring the broad shoulders and built back, envisioning what it’ll look like littered with angry, red scratches from your pristine, hot pink nails.

He saunters up behind you, and you feel his presence without even needing to turn around.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His words, heavily accented, are slurred—just slightly, but enough for you to know he’s been heavy on the vodka tonics. Part of you wonders if your antics with Scott have influenced his state of mind. Judging by the way his arms are crossed, revealing the curve of his enormous bicep and the thickness of his forearms, you’d wager that they have.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Andrei,” you say, tossing your hair back, dismissing him instantly.

“Cut the shit, sweetheart,” he sneers. His eyes drag shamelessly over your figure, heat lingering where his gaze travels. “That’s the third one of my teammates you’ve tried to fuck.”

“Fourth, actually.”

“Do you actually want them, or are you just whoring around my friends to get a rise out of me?”

“That’s rich,” you scoff, voice dripping with distaste. The absolute nerve on this guy. “Can’t handle the thought of your friend fucking me better than you?”

Andrei’s smile is sickly sweet. “We both know that was never the issue, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately, he’s right. Memories of late nights punctured by a thick Russian accent, bite marks that turned into bruises that lasted for days flood your mind, a phantom touch along your hip making your shiver.

“Where's your new bitch?” you pivot. “Let me guess, busy taking your Insta pics?”

His smirk grows, enough to reveal his missing tooth. The mockery in his tone drips from every word as he says, “That’s no way to talk about your sister.”

You bite back your grimace and the urge to say, “That’s not my sister,” but unfortunately he’s picked up your strategy of ticking off your friends on his bedpost one by one, and this latest iteration has landed him in bed with your suitemate, Jenna. When she broke up with her long-term boyfriend, you knew it was only a matter of time before Andrei swooped in with his handsome smile, dimples, and delicious muscles, sisterhood be damned. The fact that you two shared a wall was only the cherry on top.

With a glance at the bar, you see that Scott is stuck in line, your 3rd Mezcal margarita too far away. He sends you an apologetic shrug, gesturing to the growing crowd and signaling to wait for him. Your lips curl into a forced smile, blowing a kiss and offering a cheeky wave.

Andrei shifts on his feet, amused at the overzealous act that his idiotic linemate seems to be buying. With another glance across your figure, doing far more than just undressing you with his eyes, he sidles back up to you. With the way you look, he supposes he shouldn’t expect to resist.

“Seems like your man is gonna be a while. Dance with me?” he whispers into your ear. You ignore the way the heat from his breath travels down your spine, arousal instantly pooling through you despite every nerve in your body trying to fight it.

“I’m not your girlfriend, Andrei.”

“Doesn’t mean two old friends can’t have a dance,” he counters.

You resist the urge to snort at the label, as if you were ever friends. It’s the same look in his eye as always, the one that got your heart broken a thousand times before, but you find your hand slipping into his—ignoring the sheer size of it compared to yours—and letting him lead you into the throng of people anyways.

The way Andrei’s firm body slots up behind yours is far too easy, his hands all too familiar on your hips as he pulls you into him, forcing a slow and steady grind to the beat of the music. It should be shocking the way that Jenna—and Scott—completely slips from your mind, replaced by the feeling of his groin pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Look so fucking hot tonight,” he purrs in your ear. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but your body reacts involuntarily when his praise goes straight between your legs. “Made my dick hard just looking at you.”

“Wouldn’t want your girl hearing you talk like that,” you manage to retort, shaking away the arousal that threatens to warm your entire body.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“That what you said about me?” you ask, ignoring the pang of hurt that strikes your heart. It’s the first—and only—glimpse of a real emotion, hidden beneath snark and quick remarks.

“Aw, baby, let’s let the past stay in the past,” Andrei says, deflecting by pressing your ass against his groin, allowing you to feel the firmness beneath his zipper. The flash of any serious conversation disappears when the tips of his fingers graze against the underside of your breast, fostering the spread of goosebumps over your body. It’s a diversion, and you hate that it works; his hands have always been a source of weakness for you.

Heat simmers in your core, gradually growing until it’s bubbling; his hands crawling over your body while your hips move in sync with his. The chance of rekindling whatever you had before is long gone, and you’re well past any apology or reparation, so you might as well have fun with it, right?

His hands trail fire down your sides, over the bare skin between your top and skirt, to your bare leg. You’ve lost the ability to speak, to protest—not that you would—when you feel his fingers curl under the hem, tugging it up until you're all but entirely exposed, challenging you to resist. The air, though warm from the crowd, feels heavenly on your hot thighs, cool against the damp fabric of your panties. Your body gives an involuntary shiver when one large hand splays possessively over your hip, the other creeping over to the inside of your thigh.

You know what Andrei’s up to, and as much as you hate him, there’s not a single ounce in your body that wants to stop him. Your legs fall open against your will, making more space for his hand.

“Fucking soaked,” he sneers, laughing at the way you shudder when his finger barely grazes your clit, pressing against the wet scrap of fabric covering your modesty. “Knew you would be. You can never get enough of me, can you?”

Refusing to give in so easily, you reply by slowing the roll of your hips, pressing further against his groin to grind against him. His chuckle is low in your ear, amused at your attempt to keep the playing field even. The pad of his middle finger runs over your pussy, collecting the wetness that’s seeping through the cotton.

Andrei’s hand stays gripped on your thigh while the other comes up to press his finger against your lips. You can taste your own essence on the tip of his finger, coating your lip with the moisture. It presses into your mouth, pushing against your tongue in a display of dominance; though you want to push him away, your body betrays you and your lips close around his digit, sucking hard.

The sound of your moan when he roughly tugs your panties to the side is covered by the heavy bass pumping through the room. The lights are dim enough, strobing around to hide the way Andrei plunges a thick finger into you, though admittedly you wouldn’t notice or care if someone were to spot you, the thought making you even hotter.

“Always so fuckin’ tight,” he murmurs in your ear, shifting his hand to add another finger. “Dripping all over my hand like a fucking whore.”

“Andrei,” you whisper, fruitlessly, the sound of your voice swallowed by the electronic wobs of the remixed rap song overhead. Your resolve is slipping quickly, with each deep twist of his fingers inside of you, knees losing strength with every passing moment. Maybe it’s the cocktail, or maybe it’s just him; either way, you’re intoxicated.

His marriage and middle pump their way into you, the slick between your thighs making it all too easy for him to slide them in and out. Your eyes flutter shut, head lolling back slightly when he strokes you perfectly, even despite the awkward angle of his wrist, shoved between your legs in the middle of a sweaty, crowded room. So far, no one’s seemed to notice—or perhaps, if they did, they just opted to ignore it.

“Fuck, kisa,” he murmurs, and the heat in his voice makes you clench around his digits. It’s rough, deep in your ear, followed by what you presume is cursing in Russian. Andrei grips your hips so tightly you’re certain there’ll be fingerprint-sized bruises on them tomorrow. “Such a desperate whore for me, you’d let me take you right here in front of everyone, wouldn’t you?”

His finger presses against your g-spot in a way that has your resolve completely melting; suddenly, all you can focus on is the feeling that’s blooming in your core, flooding pleasure through your veins. Fuck it.

“Fuck yeah, give it to me.”

You’re not really serious, at least not entirely, but your stomach flutters with excitement when you feel one of his hands fidgeting behind your ass, fishing out his erection to press it against you. He’s hard, and you can feel the way he throbs against you through the thin material of your skirt. Admittedly, you had missed that specific part of him. No one, not even his linemate Scott with the big dick, could replicate Andrei.

“This what you want, huh? Want it deep in that little cunt?” he says, tapping himself lightly against your ass in the limited space he has between your bodies. “Guess my dick doesn’t know how much of a bitch you are.”

“Probably because your dick has been inside way bigger bitches than me,” you bite back, the throb between your legs not enough to cull the sass and bitterness that lingers just beneath the surface. If his fingers weren’t just buried between your thighs, you probably would’ve had more to say about the matter.

When you feel the curl of his fingers tugging the material of your skirt up farther, you arch into him, your senses ablaze with adrenaline. You can’t help it, giving into the way you throb, empty, waiting for him to soothe the need with the harsh thrust of his cock.

Andrei is slow, drawing out your torture. He keeps his hips pressed against your backside, shielding his erection with your ass, because you are still in public, after all. His large hand grips your hip while the other reaches between your bodies, and you let out a whimper when you feel his tip lining up with your entrance.

He pushes in, slowly, mainly to avoid attracting attention. His hands flex against your waist, pulling you into him and encouraging you to resume the grind of your hips; only this time, his dick is buried deep inside of you and he’s pressed directly against your g-spot. He hasn’t been inside you for 5 seconds and your legs are already shaking, trying desperately to steady your breathing while heat floods through your body.

Even through the loud music, you can hear the way Andrei grunts lowly in your ear, and you’re pleased to know he’s just as strung out as you, fucking you in the middle of a dance floor. His hips begin to push forward, subtly, forcing you to feel each inch and ridge of his cock dragging in and out of your soaked pussy. Large hands crawl over your hips, guiding them to gyrate against him and using your body to drive himself deeper inside of you.

It shouldn’t feel so good, getting blatantly fucked by your sworn enemy in the middle of a sweaty crowd, grinding shamelessly on his dick. But the beat syncs with his thrusts, heat flooding your system as he hits the perfect spot at the perfect pace to have your legs squeezing tightly around him.

“You been thinkin’ about this?” he whispers in your ear, and you can hear the smug smirk on his face. “Think about you while I’m fucking Jenna sometimes. She’s hot, but her cunt isn’t as tight as this one.”

“You’re—” you gasp when he delivers a hard thrust at the beat drop of the song that’s playing, “—such a fucking dick.”

“Aw, but you love it, don’t you?”

You hate him. Him and everything that he’s done to you—breaking your heart, picking up the pieces, only to shatter it again. There had been more nights spent crying over him than nights with him, screaming into your pillow until there were no tears left in your body. Worse than that, he’d turned you into someone you barely knew: someone who takes the low road and stoops to his level when you know you deserve better than all of it.

But damn, if you don’t love the way he fucks you.

It happens before you even have a chance to think about how you’ll mask it, instead crying out as your body goes limp against Andrei’s. His strong arms hold you in place, stilling his hips to feel the way your cunt clenches around him as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. The sound of your moan is swallowed by the bass, evaporating into thin air before it has the chance to make its way to any of the club’s patrons around you.

“Fuck,” Andrei husks in your ear, breath heavy against your skin. Your walls flutter around him as he lets the waves siphon through your shaking limbs. “Barely had to do any work for you to fall apart on my cock, huh? Comin’ for me like the pretty little slut you are.”

The retort you want to snap back doesn’t come out, mind still completely blown from the force of your climax. Your heart pounds in your throat, pussy clenching weakly around his thick cock, and you know you have no space to try and pretend he didn’t feel the way you came all over it.

“You gonna give me another one, dorogoy?”

“Drei,” you choke out, a wave of clarity splashing over you. “Not here.”

He hums, the vibration in his chest pressed against your back, so deep that it travels down your spine. “Unfortunate. But I suppose getting arrested for public indecency probably isn’t very good for my career.”

Behind you, you feel him tucking himself back into his pants, using your body to shield the way he adjusts before he’s gripping your arm and dragging you with him. “C’mon. M’not done until your face is painted with my cum.”

He doesn’t bother to fix your skirt, and you’re frantically tugging it back down to cover yourself as he leads you through the crowd. The next thing you know, you’re being pushed into the dark, dingy bathroom before his hands are pushing your crop top up, exposing your bra. Your eyes glance to the unlocked door when he tugs the cups of your bra down.

“Nah, a slut like you doesn’t need privacy,” he purrs, like he’s reading your mind. His eyes glitter as he follows your line of sight. “I wouldn’t even bother charging anyone who walks in for the show. S’a free for all.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s roughly pushing you against the countertop, growling when he pulls your skirt back up your hips. Your mouth opens to protest, but he speaks over you. “It’s so cute when you act all modest, but we both know you’re a cheap whore, huh? Pretendin’ that you wouldn’t like an audience. Like you wouldn’t let me bend you over one of those cocktail tables out there.”

“Think you wanna get caught, Svechnikov,” you tease, pressing your ass back against his pelvis, grinding on him in the same movements as earlier—only this time, you’re an orgasm deep, and you have at least some semblance of privacy, so you have no reservations. Your eyes lock with his in the reflection, holding his gaze. “Looking for an excuse to end things with Jenna, are you?”

“Nah, I think I’ll keep her around,” he says with a smile, pushing at your back to press your breasts against the cold countertop. “She’s a good fuck.”

“You gonna fuck me, or you just gonna talk about her? I can go get her, if you want. Catch her up on the details.”

With a laugh, Andrei tsks. “So impatient. Didn’t your mother ever teach you about manners?”

“More than yours ever taught you, that’s for sure,” you spit back. If only his mother knew the things he’d done and said to you; you’re sure she’d have plenty to say about her son’s behavior.

Andrei pulls himself out of his pants, fisting his dick before he’s dropping a wad of spit on the tip, running it through your folds. In the mirror, you see him watching the way it melds with your slick, coating the head of his dick. “I love when you talk dirty to me. Makes me so fuckin’ hard.”

He doesn’t give you the satisfaction of having the last word, shooting back whatever sassy comeback is lingering on your tongue, instead pushing into you so quickly a gasp is ripped from your throat. His hips press hard against your ass, buried to the hilt so you can throb around the entirety of him. “So tight, ‘specially for a cunt that gets used so often.”

The degradation pours out of his mouth, a hot wave of arousal trailing up your spine with every word. He’s the only one that can pull it off, igniting the blue flame inside of you with filthy whispers, paired perfectly with each precise thrust. His hands dig into your hips, pulling you back against him roughly, loud slaps of your ass against his pelvis echoing around the room.

A large hand makes its way up your spine, slipping into your hair and tugging you back until your spine is arched and his chest is pressed against your back. You take in your own reflection in the mirror, cheeks growing warm at the sight: hair mussed, makeup smeared, clothes disheveled across your frame. At the apex of your thighs, you can’t help but stare at his thick cock driving into you, glistening with your slick.

Andrei hums lowly in your ear. “Look at you, filthy fuckin’ whore with your tits out, getting this slutty little cunt destroyed by my dick.”

“Andrei,” you gasp out—whether at the filth spewing out of his mouth, or from the way he’s driving into you, relentless, you aren’t sure.

“Yeah, baby, you gonna come?”

Your reply is a choked cry. “No–”

“No? Yeah, you are, can feel the way you’re gripping my cock. You’re gonna gush all over me.”

Your hand betrays you, slipping from the edge of the counter to paw at your clit. His chuckle makes your cheeks hot, burning even hotter when his breath fans against your neck. “Say ‘please.’”

The last shred of dignity you have left lodges in your throat, and you glare at him in the reflection, refusing to take his bait. His eyebrow raises, and a moment later, his hips cease their movements.

An involuntary whine claws its way out of your throat, feeling the way your pussy flutters helplessly around him. You know he can feel it, too, judging by the way his eyes glitter as he looks at you. His voice is deep, rumbling lowly in your ear, “We both know you want it. Need it. Scott wasn’t gonna give it to you, was he? Not like this. Not like me.”

You purse your lips, shaking your head. You’re not quite sure what game you’re playing, not when he can read you like a book, can feel the evidence of your pending release, pulsing desperately around him. Begging.

When you don’t answer, still stubbornly clinging onto your last, desperate piece of humility, his hand slithers up to roughly grope at your breast. He massages, then pinches your peaked nipple between two large fingers. “Use your manners.”

Your hips cant backwards, attempting to goad him into moving—all you need is just a little bit, and you’ll be falling off the cliff into oblivion. He chuckles, hips moving quickly to avoid being sheathed fully inside you; you’re reprimanded with a slap to your breast. No words are necessary; he isn’t going to bother repeating himself, so you steel yourself and say with a shaky voice, “P-please, Andrei.”

A satisfied smirk curls onto his stupid, handsome face as he releases your breast, knocking your own hand out of the way to rub at your clit as he resumes the same brutal rhythm as before. The warmth of his finger sends a spark up your spine, heightening the pleasure that surges through you.

“C’mon, kisa. Come on it.”

You have no choice but to obey, the world shattering around you after freezing entirely for the briefest of moments. You swear your soul leaves your body in the middle of that dingy bathroom in the city’s hottest club; one set of fingers pressed against your throbbing clit, the other gripping the edge of the countertop, holding on for dear life. The sound of Andrei’s groan of satisfaction is deep in your ear, approving of the way your hips twitch in his hands.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” he says, patronizing, nipping affectionately at your shoulder. You don’t have it in you to roll your eyes, but you sigh loudly when he pulls out of you; the empty void in your pussy is devastating. “On your knees, sweetheart. Gotta clean up the mess you made.”

He isn’t rough, but he isn’t entirely gentle as he encourages you to your knees; you do your best not to imagine what is on the sticky, tiled floor of the bathroom—or the last time it was cleaned. Andrei smirks as he tilts his head down to look at you. “Knew I’d get you back here someday.”

“You want me to suck your dick or not?”

“I do,” he says slowly. “But I know you want that even more.”

Now, you do roll your eyes, ignoring him and leaning forward to take him in your mouth.

“Ah ah ah,” he stops you. You hate that he makes you feel like a greedy child going for a piece of candy before you say ‘thank you’. “Want you to say it.”

“Fuck you,” you spit out.

“Already did, sweetheart,” he winks, and you scowl in response. He’s the worst when he’s right.

“Wanna suck your dick, Andrei,” you say reluctantly, the words tasting awful in your mouth. You’re tempted to slap the smug look on his stupid, handsome face.

Your eyes draw to the way he takes his length in his hand, stroking it slowly. “Want it in your throat, hm?”

A glare, burning hot, shot in his direction. He watches you, expectant, and you know he’s waiting for you to repeat his words. The sooner you say it, the sooner it’ll be over. “Want it in my throat.”

“Want me to spill my cum all over that pretty face?” he smirks. You swallow, hot from the inside out.

“Want you to come all over my face, Drei.”

It sounds so sincere he pauses to stare. Then the smirk returns. “Aw, baby, all you had to do was ask.”

His dick meets your lips and you whimper as soon as it presses into your mouth. The weight of him is familiar, almost comforting on your tongue, though the width of him is something you never got used to. He’s big, and he knows it.

“Forgot how much I like the way you look with my cock stuffed in your mouth,” he says, pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his unzipped pants to snap a photo of you. “Should I post on my private story, you think?”

“You post and I’ll never suck your dick again, Svechnikov.”

“Don’t worry, kisa,” he coos. “Want to keep that for my eyes only. Now, put that pretty mouth to work, yeah?”

With a scoff, you roll your eyes and part your lips again—reluctantly. You can’t explain why, but there’s an inexplicable urge to have him back in your mouth, to deliver the pleasure he never fails to offer you.

To keep him addicted to you the same way you are him.

He presses in, doesn’t give you the time to adjust before he’s hitting the back of your throat, nor does he bother to hide his dark chuckle when you choke, tears brimming in your eyes. With a groan, his thrusts grow quicker, drool spilling out the side of your mouth.

“Not sure what I like fucking more: your cunt or your face,” he drawls, accent thick as he draws closer to his release. Thick fingers card through your hair, securing a hold at the back of your head and you blink away the stream of tears pooling in your eyes. A string of broken Russian falls from his mouth, eyes squeezed shut while his hips increase their pace. “Fuckin’ love when you gag on it though, baby.”

Andrei lets out another loud groan and a frantic series of thrusts before he’s pulling out of your mouth quickly, wrapping his fingers around length and stroking himself. He jerks a few times before releasing another curse in Russian before he spills onto your face, dripping thickly over your skin.

“Fuck,” he says, this time in English. “Now I gotta get a picture of that.”

When he tugs his phone out, you do your best to scramble away, but you hear the telltale click of the camera anyways. Andrei’s hum is smug as he admires his artistry. “M’sure Scott will love this preview of you for later.”

“You are the worst,” you huff, glaring at him as you clean up your face. Still, you can’t help the heat that creeps into your cheeks.

“What? All I was doing was warming you up for him. Think about how much dick you can take now that I’ve stretched you out.”

Not bothering to even waste the energy arguing back, you opt to flip him off. The effect is much less powerful given that you’re tossing out the paper towel that wiped his cum off your face. He raises an amused eyebrow, eyes raking over your figure before stepping beside you to grab his own paper towel.

While he’s cleaning himself up, you adjust your skirt, ensuring you’re properly covered. A glance in the mirror renders your reflection less than stellar, but you clean up the smudged lip gloss and wipe away the runny mascara from under your eyes. When you look back at Andrei, he’s distracted by his phone, so you seize the opportunity to take his wallet and pull out two crisp hundred dollar bills, fresh from the ATM.

Rubbing the bills together catches his attention, and he grimaces as he lunges toward you. Holding them just out of his grasp, you offer a big pucker of your lips, pressed to his cheek with a loud, “mwah!” before tucking the bills into your top, snug against your breast. With a wink, you walk out, feeling his gaze hot on your ass as the door swings shut behind you.

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8siangemini · 11 months

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You Sly Cat Pt 2 (Miles Morales x Black Cat!Reader)

part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Summary: After the debut of Black Cat to the public her name begins to rise in the media. ‘Black Cat or something more?’ Spider-Man’s motivation to catch Black Cat becomes something greater than just keeping Brooklyn safe. Meanwhile at school, Miles is falling more and more in love with Visions Academy’s heartthrob.

WARNINGS: VERY suggestive but no smut, (NADA SMUT IS COMING FROM ME ABOUT MILES), choking

Author’s note: This might be my longest thing I’ve ever posted but thank you so much for everyone that liked the last part!! I am so excited that people are now wanting to be part of a tag list!! I hope you all like this too and I am very sorry for the long wait, there has been so much going on but here y’all go <33

You took the notebooks and textbooks from your locker and put them inside of your backpack for the classes you had today. As you reapplied your perfume roller onto your neck you continued to hear the same topic floating around in the hallways.

‘Black Cat really fucked up Spider-Man.’

‘I need to see what Black Cat looks like in person.’

‘I heard Black Cat ripped out one of those security guards throats.’

Black Cat this, Black Cat that. Black Cat was the growing topic that spreaded like wildfire just over the weekened all over Brooklyn. Being the first person to attempt to rob the third most high security jewelry store in Brooklyn and successfully doing so, of course it would be a topic in conversations. And you loved it.

Your alias as Black Cat took the city by storm and you ran Spider-Man up. Gaining the attention of doing something so bad instead of being the image of perfection excited you in a way your perfect life never could. You were starting chaos, you were changing the peace of Brooklyn, your name was being heard by everyone, you lived a life with no rules as Black Cat.

One side of you was the girl of perfection. The girl who brought home good grades, had everything handed to her on a silver plate, never spoke out of line, sat straight up when sitting, not a scratch on your skin, not a hair out of place. This girl was the girl everyone saw and awed at. This girl was untouchable, the golden girl.

The other side was rebellious, flirtatious, took things that she wanted, spoke when she wanted, and got her hands dirty. Yet she was graceful, beautiful as she did her crimes, like a ballerina. Like a beautiful rose but once you go to touch you feel her thorns. She was confident in her abilities and in herself in the world of chaos.

But there is one thing they both hold strongly to their being. They hold their heads up high with confidence. In different ways, they were both untouchable.

You slam your locker close and put the lock on and immediately reveal a face near your locker door. Roxie, of course. She leaned against the other lockers with her arms crossed until she came to your side as you began walking through the halls. You already knew what she was going to be talking about.

“Bruh you hear about Black Cat??” She asked eagerly. A smirk came up to your face slightly, finding it funny everyone was talking about your alias.

“Duh, it’s what everyone has been posting and talking about over the weekened.” You point out.

“Yeah true.” She shrugs.

Just as you chuckle and look ahead you see Miles head bop up and down through the crowded hallway. Roxie bumps your elbow with her’s as she smirks and points at Miles with her eyes. You roll your eyes at her and direct your eyes back to Miles.

He caught your eyes and he gives a soft smile. You return the smile along with a small wave. Just as the crowd clears a little you see him limping, on his left leg.

‘Must be a coincidence.’

As Miles walks past you you turn away from Roxie’s side and jog a little bit to catch up with Miles. You gently tap on his arm and he stops to turn around and look down at you. He gives you another gentle smile, so sweet, so innocent.

“Hey” Miles said.

“Hey,” You respond. You point down to his left leg, curious of what happened. “What happened to your leg?”

Miles looks down at his leg, almost shocked that you noticed it. He then placed one of his hands onto his left thigh to acknowledge it.

“I was playing basketball with some of my friends this weekend and tweaked it.” He explained.

You hummed as a response as your eyes looked down at his leg. You did not believe it at all. A little ‘tweak’ could not have caused Miles to start limping so harshly. You were an acrobat, you knew the difference between tweaking your ankle and doing something much worse. Miles did something much worse to have him limping him throughout school.

But besides that you knew Miles was a person that would get embarrassed if you called him out on it so loudly in front of everyone. So for now you just shrugged off his obvious lie. But you did need to comment on something.

You walk up close to his side so that your shoulders are touching. You didn’t look at him but he turned his head to look down at you.

“If you’re gonna lie at least make it sound believable.” You said quietly enough for you two to just hear it.

Before he could say anything you turned around and headed back to Roxie’s side to walk to class together. As you two take a couple of steps forward Roxie speaks up.

“What you talking about with Morales?” She asked you as looked at you but you kept your face facing forward.

“Asked him why he was limping,” You reply. “He said he tweaked it while playing basketball.”

Roxie nods her head in response contiously. She pulls her eyes off of you and looked ahead of the halls.

“Everyone was staring when you stopped Morales.” Roxie commented as she smirked and looked at you at the corner of her eyes.

From what it looked like you were just looking at the hallways with your head high on your way to class. But in the inside you were combusting and you did not know why. You knew people always stared at your whenever you walked by but the fact that they were staring because you were talking to Miles made you feel…shy.

“Shut up,” You quickly say. “There is nothing between Morales and I.” You say slightly louder so other people could hear.

“Hmm, what did you write on that note on Friday during physics?” Roxie said with a smirk.

You blush out of embarressment and quickly slap her arm which lets out a loud laugh.

——

“So you’re gonna tell me there is absolutely nothing between you and Morales?” Roxie asks as you two begin packing up your acrobat stuff after practice.

You and Roxie have been doing acrobats since you two were kids. You loved it, you felt so graceful doing it, flying through the air accelerated you. Not only that but it was amazing practice for the night.

“Oh my god,” You throw your head back as you head towards the door and Roxie hurries up to catch up to you. “I already told you once there is nothing between Miles and I. We are just friends.”

You and Roxie walk out of the acrobat gym with duffel bags in hand and started walking towards your guys’ regular smoothie place you guys go to.

You began thinking about Miles. You always thought he was handsome but always dismissed the idea of dating him. You dismissed the idea all together because you were suppose to be strong and independent, unreachable. Right? You always thought that but now you recently started to ponder the idea of dating someone. But no one needed to know that.

“Miles hmm?” Roxie calls you out. “First name basis?”

You begin to blush and in the corner of your eye you see Roxie trying to see your face. You turn your face away from her and you knew her eyes widened in shock. She knew now. She began shaking your shoulder as you make it to the smoothie place.

“OH MY GOD YOU DO LIKE HIM!!” Roxie yells quietly as you walk into the smoothie shop and her just right behind her.

You roll your eyes while trying to avoid Roxie’s gaze, hoping to avoid anymore questions. But you knew Roxie was going to have so many more.

You walked up to the register and saw the familiar cashier lady with long blonde hair and gray eyes. You give her a smile and she returns one to you as Roxie tries and gets your attention.

“One mango smoothie,” You order. “And a strawberry banana one for her.” You say as you point to Roxie who was eagerly trying to get your attention like a child.

“Ok that will be $10.75.” The cashier says as she taps on the screen.

You finish paying as you walk over to the stools lined across the window and finally began listening to what Roxie has been asking.

“Miles Morales caught the heart of the (Y/n) (L/n).” Roxie teases loudly as she holds her heart with her hands like she was struck by Cupid.

Just then you both look out the window to see the passing byers. And the topic of discussion comes by both of you to walk into the shop. Your eyes widened in embarrassment and Roxie let’s out an empty ugly laugh as she slams the table lightly with her face in her arm. You slap her arm just as Miles walks in to try and quiet her.

“Girl shut the fuck up!” You say through your teeth.

You look over at Miles and just then Miles looks over at you. He looks surprised to see you and before he goes up to order he heads over to you and Roxie. You swivel in your stool so your body is facing Miles and your back towards Roxie who was still trying to hold in her laughing.

"Hey (Y/n)." Miles greets as he gives you a small wave as he approaches you.

"Hi Miles." You respond as you give him a smile with a slight blush to your face.

He leans over to his side to look behind you to try and see the laughing Roxie. Roxie gains her composure and looks up at Miles with a red face. Miles gives her a wave.

"Hey Roxie." Miles greets.

"Hello Morales." Roxie responds through a breathy voice. Miles looks back at you with all of his undivided attention.

"What are yall doin' here?" He asks you.

"We came back from our practice," You answer as you point to Roxie. "We always come here after practices."

Miles responds with a hum. You two stand there in silence for a little bit, smiling lightly at each other. Until the cashier calls out your name and two drinks are placed on the counter. Roxie gets up from her seat and goes to grab your drinks. You get off of your stool and look up at Miles one more time.

"I'll see you around Miles." You let his name roll off of your tongue.

Before Miles could say anything you walk away with Roxie as she hands you your mango smoothie and you two walk out the door. As you walk pass shop window you look back inside and see Miles staring at you through the window with a smile.

"Someone is falling for golden girl." Roxie teases with a smirk on her face. You look over at her with a pissed expression and continued looking forward. Roxie then looks ahead as well.

"And it seems like golden girl is falling for Morales." Roxie whispers underneath her breath but you were able to hear her remark.

----

You stood in front of your balcony with the window doors closed as you looked over Brooklyn. The lights made Brooklyn feel alive, it made Brooklyn feel like Brooklyn. Brooklyn may seem like it is alive in the day but it really becomes alive during the night. Especially with you.

Your father is just a few steps behind you as you stare out the window of Brooklyn. He knew of the Black Cat alias and was proud of you for continuing on the family business. Why would he not be? Your family's whole fortune was based off of stolen, scammed, and robbed money. But after your father's last heist he had retired and gone back to a normal wealthy life as a businessman.

"Any special requests?" You asked your father as you turned around to face him. He looked at your with a smirk on his face.

"Not for tonight." Your father starts. "But I do have one for next week."

You turn away from the window and give your father's full attention.

"Next Friday," Your school's dance. "Visions is having your school dance at the grand opening of the Museum of Natural History and Historical Art."

You already knew what he was talking about. The Delvadian Spider Idol. A historical relic that is worth millions for its tale told ability to endow powers to those destined for it. It has not been active since early Egytians times but now many criminals want their hands on it for the money it is worth.

"The Delvadian Spider Idol." You state. He goes quiet and he nods.

"You seem like a harmless student and will go in with no question. I want you to steal the Delvadian Spider Idol." Your father instructs.

You already knew of the relic but something about your father trusting you to take on a heist so big made you feel proud, almost prideful.

"This would be the biggest heist in your time as Black Cat so I will form the plan for then." Your father explains.

You nod and you turn away from him. You push open the doors and the cool night breeze hits your face.

"You cannot make a mistake in that heist." Your father warned you. "You know what to do for tonight?" He asks. You look over your shoulder at him.

"Break into the museum, hack into the system, plant our virus, and go." You explain through simplified explanations.

Without giving your father enough time to respond you run out of your room and leap out of the window like a glider. The window blowing through your hair as you are just a few feet before you hit hed first onto the ground, excilerating.

You reach your hand up and activate your small grappling hook from your wrist and catch it on top of the building. You repostition yourself and the grappling hook draws you up to the top of the building.

You make it to the museum and you stay planted at the highest point of the museum. There are a couple of security guards walking the premises of the unopened museum and you knew there were many scoping the area inside. Your stomach was churning inside because this was such a big aspect to the heist but you felt so nervous. You never done anything on a scale this big.

But then you remember, you are not the golden girl. You are Black Cat right now, Black Cat was not scared if she was caught or not because she was never caught.

You place a small compact device on the top of the building right underneath you and you take out your tablet. The device and table connect and it gave you a whole 3d live cam with heat signatures of the whole museum. You munover the screen a little bit and located the security room. Right underneath the first floor in a large basement-like room. You smirked at your tablet screen as it brightened your face.

“Child’s play.” You say to yourself.

You find a route with no guards and tattoo it into your memory. You slip the tablet into your backpack and find a skylight window that had an opening. You crawl over on your hands on feet and unhinge the window. You drop down into the empty room with elegance as the floor hits your toe first. You look around and find a singular pedestal with nothing in it but you read the title for the artifact. The Delvadian Spider.

The podium drew your interest and you took a very important mental note inside of your head for next Friday night. You took your attention off of it and swiftly whisp through the room and halls and stairs. You find the door to the security room and look around to find no one in the hallway.

‘Gotta make this quick.’ You say in your head.

You take out a small device from your bag and place it over the pin pad of the door on the handle. It begans to make small pressing noises and you hear the door unlock in just three seconds. You take off the device and walk down the stairs into the security. It was a long single hallway with many doors, some open and some closed. You walk through the hallway with ease and confidence as you walk pass rooms that had open doors with many men asleep at their desks or on their phones facing away from the doors.

You make it to the end of the hall and the plate on the door read Motherboard.

‘Bingo.’

You open the door silently and close it behind you. There sat one man in front of an array of screens surrounding him. He stared at the screen aimlessly. You reached into your bag and pulled out a needle and syringe with a green substance inside.

You slowly walked towards the man with no sound coming from your steps. You were a predator hunting for its kill. With no sound you covered the man’s mouth and injected the substance into his neck in one swift movement. His body becomes limp into your arms and you smirk at the man’s patheticness. You push him away in his swivel chair until he falls to the ground with a thud.

You go behind the main screen and feel around behind it to find one open USB plug in the back.

“Perfect.”

You take out a small USB drive from your pocket and plug it inside. You pull out your tablet and open it up. An app has been downloaded on it and you press on it. An identical display of the many screens from the monitors were now on the screens. You put the tablet away and look back up at the screens. In front of you sat a keyboard along with a microphone. You smirked and knew what your escape plan is. You press your finger on the microphone a small red dot glowed on it. You drew your mouth to it and spoke, all with a smirk.

“We have a situation at the back of the museum. I need all inside, outside, and security units on cite.” You said through a deep voice.

Just as you spoke you head many men scurring out of their rooms with loud bangs coming from swinging their doors open. After about a minute you heard the whole security room go quiet. You quickly open the door and in less than a minute you are out of the front door and on top of the building across from the museum. You look down at the museum and see it with no security, an open field for anyone to use.

“Now why are you not playing in your playpen you stray?”

You quickly turn your head and get onto your feet. Spider-Man standing right in front of you. You were not sure how long he has been standing there but you knew he was standing there for too long.

“I was waiting for my toy to come.” You say with a smirk and jump at him.

You attempt as slashes at him as he continued to duck them. He threw punches until he finally landed one right at your jaw. The pain went straight to your head and you held your jaw. With the other hand you reach behind onto the nape of his neck and yanked him down. He was surprised by your strength and you finally drew your hand away from your jaw

“What a beautiful sight,” You coo as you look down at Spider-Man.

Your legs on either sides of him with your hands trying to hold down his large wrist. The heat between you two became so hot it felt like it became one. One of your hands drops down, glazes over his muscular suited arm with light touches, and found its way to his face. Your claws gently carress his cheek and jaw until you pull away your hand just far enough until it is only your index finger underneath his chin. His breath quickened as your touches connected to his face. A smirk came to your face as a sinister idea came to your head. You close the space between you two as you put your lips close to his neck, your breaths just kissing his masked neck.

“It would be more beautiful if I knew what handsome face layed under here.” You say on his neck.

His eyes widned and your hand quickly drops from his chin to the end of his mask. You flipped up the hem of the mask and began drawing the mask up. His neck was a beautiful dark color and his lips, full and blush color, like they could be kissed. You began to try and pull the mask over his nose until Spider-Man quickly pulled his arms out of your grip, one hand on your thigh causing a heat in your face to rise, and the other on your hand near his face.

He swiftly turns you over on your back and he is now towering over you. His body planted between yours right inbetween your thighs as he quickly moved both of your hands into his one large hand and pressed it above your head. His body was so close to yours that his chest was squished against yours. His lips were so close to you as you kept on staring at them.

His free hand made its way to your neck and pressed slightly on the sides. It drove you crazy, your whole body was set on fire, you were melting into his touch. You wanted more of him on you if that was even physically possible. You wanted the barrier of hero and villain suits off. His face came close to your neck and he turned your head with his thumb to the right whille still having his grip on your neck. Your neck was exposed to him. This aggressiveness, this domiance from Spider-Man drove you insane.

“Now this is a stunning sight.” He spoke against your neck.

He kept his lips hovering above your neck, the tension driving you nuts. You shut your mouth tightly and your eyelids fall down, trying to not to make a sound. His face pulled away from your neck and without realizing it you were finally able to breath.

“Aww, cat got your tongue?” He asked.

He roughly pulled away and turned your head to face him which caused you to now widened your eyes at the sudden aggression. His face came close to yours with your lips just inches away. You kept looking down at his lips and then connecting back at his white masked eyes.

“Bad girls don’t get rewards.” Spider-Man said through a voice full of venom.

It had turned you on. As much as you wish it didn’t, this whole scenario had turned you on. The initial domiance from you being shattered by Spider-Man’s unknown aggression made you hot.

“I’ve been waiting to catch you since the last time I saw you, you sly cat.” He whispers into your ear.

But then suddenly you snap out of it, you remember you are on a mission. You threw a fast and hard punch to his face that the impact made him fall to his side. You slither out of his grip and threw a small ball from your bag at Spider-Man which contracted into a large net and them compacted around him which constrated him. He began to try and squirm out of the net.

“See you later darling.” You say with a smirk and ran into the night, escaping once again.

Taglist

@sakura-onesan @potato-studez-hungryformore @midnight-fairee @nightshxdex @nana-luvsyu @sukisprettyface @itszzmoon

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist just comment down below <33

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #spider man #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman #miles morales #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman x black cat #miles morales x black cat! reader

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aziraphales-library · 7 months

Note

Hi wonderful librarians! Thanks for providing this service. I'm hoping to hear a few of your favourite non-AU fics in which the author is delightfully creative with how they have Aziraphale and/or Crowley use their supernatural powers. E.g. guess who by attheborder where they settle a bet by temporarily wiping their memories and trying to figure out who's who. Thanks!

Hello! Here are some fics in which miracles are used in fun, silly, and dramatic ways...

Heavenly Dues by IneffableDoll (G)

Months after Armageddon, Heaven still receives receipts detailing Aziraphale’s daily miracle usage. Michael makes the mistake of checking them one idle day. OR Aziraphale reheats a lot of tea and admires his demon, scandalizing an archangel in the process.

Five's the Charm by EA_Lakambini (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley challenge each other to not perform more than five miracles in a day. (They’re both also competitive, and may or may not be above sabotage.)

Five Miracles Aziraphale Performed Accidentally and One that was Entirely Intentional by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0 (T)

Only inexperienced angels will become so overwhelmed with emotions that they accidentally perform a miracle. Doing so is laughable. Aziraphale would never! Except that he has... five times now. Each and every time when he was around the demon Crowley. Why on God's green Earth would a demon make an angel feel so strongly that he would perform accidental miracles? CW: discussion of car accidents, a nightmare with the use of holy water on Crowley by Crowley, description of a panic attack. It'll be very clear when it's coming in the story though, so if you want to skip it you can! Mind the tags :)

Barking Up the Wrong Tree by inflappible (G)

Crowley loses a bet with Adam and gets turned into a dachshund for a week as punishment. Aziraphale has to deal with the consequences.

A Curious Case of Miracles on Marlborough Street by akfedeau (M)

After stopping the apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale finally take the next step in their six-thousand-year friendship. But when a spate of miracles sweeps across Soho and Mayfair, they realize their amorous escapades may have an unintended side effect. As they scramble to restore balance and an archangel arrives to investigate, Heaven and Hell’s messengers learn that you can never have too much of a good thing.

One Miraculous December by journeytogallifrey (T)

Candles. Mistletoe. An entire frozen lake. Festive memories from their past together keep appearing out of nowhere. Crowley's sure he's manifesting them accidentally out of sheer romantic desperation. It's bad enough trying to hide his unrequited love as they grow closer post-Apocaloops - what if Aziraphale sees the objects for what they are, a window into his yearning soul? Unfortunately, the only way to banish the objects seems to be talking about each memory... Meanwhile, Aziraphale is just trying to woo his demon boyfriend with big gestures, ready to prove his devotion. And if Crowley acts awkward about the miracles? Surely that's just his difficulty accepting affection. The solution: shower him with as much of it as possible... Eventually these two will communicate, even if it takes 'til the end of the year. For now there will be cuddling, excuses for closeness, sappy words, flashbacks, nostalgia, bickering, and an obscene variety of holiday foods. Oh, and footnotes. That's right. We're doing those too.

And the one you mentioned...

guess who by attheborder (T)

“Ha!” exclaimed A. “We’re married!” He grabbed C.’s hand and held it up, pointing at the gold band around his ring finger. C. stared at the ring, and then at A., a delighted grin appearing on his face. “Oh— that’s brilliant!”

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #miracles #mod d

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otaku553 · 3 months

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The way you described sarie in the tags of your Sabo au reminds me a lot about boa and my favorite interpretation of her love for luffy: that boa isn’t really in love w luffy, she’s just so traumatized that she thinks she’s in love the first time she meets a guy that sees her for the person she is and doesn’t judge her for her past. Sarie seems like she’s the same way, with Sabo treating her well and making her believe that she’s in love when she’s rlly just experiencing decency for the first time

Heheheh yeah! I agree strongly on that for Boa and Luffy, I think that Boa does not actually feel romantic attraction to luffy but is just so alienated from this feeling of platonic friendship as a result of being the object of other people’s attraction and having been exposed to that for so long, what she has with luffy is unique and she comes to perceive it as “love,” just not necessarily the kind of love she thinks it is.

That said, with Sarie, I do feel that it is a bit different! It’s not so much “decency” that she is experiencing for the first time from Sabo, but rather honesty. The problem with being a princess is that everyone tells her that they love her, and at some point, she must realize that these are shallow words that people use to endear themselves to her for ulterior motives. I’ve been turning around this phrase in my head: ‘the realm of nobility is not one in which truths are said.’ Sarie herself is such a strong example of this in canon with her verbal tic of triple negations which make it very difficult to understand her, so playing on that, I think she would also have an intimate understanding of the ways nobles twist words and never say things straight out.

Now take Sabo, who has been one of her suitors for the better part of their teenage years, who she knows his parents have been trying to get with her to get an in to the royal family for ages, and he talks to her the night before she makes the decision on who to marry as the princess, who to choose as the third heir to the throne, and he says: “look. We both know that this is something my parents have always wanted more than me. You don’t have to choose me.” And she asks what he would do if he were king, and he answers about all the people he would help and all the ideas he has to better Goa for the masses, and. She’s charmed. I think Sabo is, if nothing else, capable of being extremely extremely genuine about the good he wants to do in the world, and he makes clear to her, in no uncertain terms, that he would be a good king, but doesn’t want to be king because he both respects her choice and knows that he is doing this for ulterior motives.

That honesty, in his moment of vulnerability, is what wins her over. But not quite just that— it is the way that he is so determined to save others, when she has been thinking for the past years about how miserable he looks and how she wants to save him somehow.

Now also, imagine that Sarie has been told for all her life the words “I love you.” And not a single time has those words been said in truth, in full genuine affection and care for her as a person rather than her as a princess, her as a vehicle to the throne, her as a political token for the royal family, her as a mascot and mouthpiece. I think this honesty that Sabo shows is a lifeline she clings onto, because she knows after his confession that he is capable, in moments of vulnerability, of being honest. And I think she truly wants to hear Sabo say to her, honestly, the words “I love you.” I think she wants to know that there is at least someone in the world that truly loves her, and she just thinks it will be easiest with Sabo because she can give Sabo everything he wants: means to help the people through political authority. She just gives it in what she hopes will be an exchange for his honest love.

I have very many thoughts about Sarie haha :) I don’t think she’s a good person, but I do think she has the potential to be a very complex character. This au is largely my way of examining the ways growing up with nobility might have affected the characters that are most closely associated with nobility. I think they must be very fucked up but in different ways from the main one piece cast and its usual supporting characters.

#one piece #sabo #I should make a tag for this au at this point.#king sabo au #sarie isntoinette

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unforth · 3 months

Text

Okay, so over on the business account ( @duckprintspress ) I said that I'd finished reading the newest article about the Hugos by Chris Barkley and Jason Sanford (this article) and written up some thoughts that troubled me. I AM gonna post them, because I feel strongly that there are aspects of this being pushed aside as if they don't matter, and. They do matter.

To be clear, I am NOT an expert. Most of my knowledge second or third hand, but I've been active in Chinese fandoms for four and a half years, have friends in China, am actively studying Chinese, and at least have a (white, Western) point of view a little different from what I've seen in coverage so far.

What's troubling to me here is the minimal discussion of the dangers in China. It's mentioned in passing that self-censorship happens because the placement of the red line is so unclear that no one is sure what will constitute passing it. Leaving aside that that's an intentional design feature from the Chinese government - they enforce when they want to enforce when they want to enforce it - what's not discussed in this article is who was actually at risk.

The Chengdu organizers in China: if McCarty and the others didn't comply, would the Chengdu organizers have been in danger of ruin? Imprisonment? Execution?

The Chinese authors who were removed from consideration: what were the perils to them and their families if they hadn't been removed from consideration?

The Western authors who were disqualified: if they hadn't been removed, what might have happened to them upon arrival in China? Could their safety have been ensured?

This article presents a very narrow view (and extremely important and informative one, but still only) into one aspect of what happened. At the beginning of it, Barkley indicates that this article shouldn't be considered a final word, and that's a point that really needs emphasis: we know now about exactly ONE aspect of what happened. We do not know what was getting communicated to the Chinese organizers, and we do not know what they were doing with that information. We don't even know who those Chinese organizers were, nor who their influencers, stakeholders, investors, etc., were, nor what their goals were.

This article, and many others, ultimately end up reading like the Western organizers were Actors and the Chinese government was an Actor and that everyone else in China involved who wasn't The Man (business, government, etc.) was a passive receiver of whatever these three groups did. Without more information about all those other people (who, granted, NEED anonymity to be safe, but we don't even have anonymous statements), what we know about this situation is glaringly, starkly lacking, and it feels (if I'm being generous in my interpretation) patronizing that all these regularly Chinese people are getting treated as not having agency under the monolith that is Chinese Government And Business Interests (ill-defined in everything I've read) on the one hand and, on the other hand, Very Specific Named Western People Who Get To Have Names, Power, Agency, And Active Participation In Events.

We have no information whatsoever on what risks the Chinese organizers might have been willing to take.

We have no information whatsoever on what was discussed with the specific Chinese people who set this event up, bought ballots, etc., etc.

It's this ginormous gaping hole in the coverage, and while this gets acknowledged a little in this article, what no one seems to be saying is "if people outside China can't get this information for various reasons, perhaps we're not the right people to tell this story" or at least "we're only able to tell a small part of the story and people who have the necessary language skills, information, expertise, and contacts should do what they can to bring more to light." And again, Barkley and Sanford DO acknowledge that, but in ways that read to me as throwaway and incidental (my opinion, only, other people may have found that wording more impactful, I was already getting frustrated by that point and that would have colored by interpretation), and in the end I feel like it prevents them from posing some of the questions that are truly essential to understanding this. (Some of this is likely known, just not by me, to be clear, but these are the questions I'd personally like to know more about before I can draw firm conclusions about what happened.) For example:

Who in China was really behind organizing and funding this?

Why was the decision made to hold the event in China?

What research was done into Chinese censorship before the event bid was accepted, and what impact did the results of that research have on the decision to accept the bid? How much of that information was provided to the people reviewing the bids, and when and how was that information presented?

What is happening that is causing Chinese posts on this topic to be deleted?

What is the danger to Chinese fans who've spoken out? What is the danger to the Chinese organizers of the event? Have they been victims of reprisals, and are they safe now?

WAS this self-censorship or active censorship, and who was ultimately responsible for the decisions to remove the ballots?

There's so much we don't know, and so much that we probably can't find out at all, but the focus solely on Western sources (by Western journalists and interests, who seem to rarely have ANY contacts in China, much less ones capable of providing useful information) has been a huge flaw of virtually every bit of coverage I've seen on this.

China isn't a ginormous evil black box, and I'm getting really tired of reading coverage that foists off explaining what happened there onto "well, acshwally, the Chinese government..."

What I really want is an acknowledgement that had Dave McCarty refused to do this research, there's a very real chance that people's lives could have been in danger in China. And it's all well and nice for a bunch of people in the West to say "they should have stood up for what was right." But the Western Hugo awards committee people are NOT the people who would have been in danger had they taken a stand. They could have sat perfectly safe in countries with more secure freedom of speech, while their counterparts in China and Chengdu had their lives ruined over it.

And I'm not saying that was a factor.

I'm say we don't know. And without knowing that, I'll own I'm extremely skeptical of any conclusions being drawn about what we DO know. And I'm saying that if McCarty and the others knew that was a risk that existed, it could have colored their decision-making process, and pretending that the issue wasn't a factor feels naive at best. Knowing that the event was settled in Chengdu and couldn't be moved, I wish I was seeing more people asking: was insisting that these works be nominated for an award worth risking the lives of people's lives for? If there was active censorship, and McCarty and the others had fought it, could the Hugo awards have possibly have won against that active censorship, and if they'd tried and failed, what would the consequences have been?

Based on this article, I'm genuinely frightened for Chinese SF/F fandom organizers, authors, and fans right now. I've seen what can happen to people in China, and I'll own it's distressing to see how little that factor seems to matter to the people upset about the censorship, all of whom are safe in places that aren't China.

I want to see more discussion of: once the bid for Chengdu was accepted, what were the genuine options left on this topic? Was this censorship an inevitable outcome of holding the Hugos there? Or, as I personally suspect, is what is happening now not the result of the Hugos being held there OR of the censorship that was done by whoever did it, but rather the result of how all this coverage is making China look bad (when we STILL DON'T KNOW IF CHINA HAD A HAND IN THE CENSORSHIP AT ALL)?

I think we're missing way, way to much information for the level of conclusion that I'm seeing people draw based on this article, including myself in the meme I made based on only a surface understanding of the contents of this article.

I'll own, as someone who knows just enough about China to understand some of the risks people there took, this is feeling like a lot of Westerners going "CENSORSHIP BAD! STAND FOR WHAT'S RIGHT!" while sitting safe and sound and ignoring their counterparts in China and all of the Chinese SF/F fandom screaming "THIS IS DANGEROUS FOR US THIS COULD RUIN OUR LIVES."

I'm. Not comfortable with a lot of what I'm reading, including parts of this article. I'm not saying I know bad things have happened or will happen, but I do feel that a lot of people opening their mouths know far too little about China, and do not seem to think they have a responsibility to learn more, to be taking the stands that they are.

#unforth rambles #please don't let this blow up in my face please don't let this blow up in my face please don't #i'm not tagging to relevant tags but i'm okay with people reblogging #if someone actually wants to and cares about my opinion on this topic

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autisticcassandracain · 1 year

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I dunno man I feel like most statements along the lines of ‘Batman isn’t REALLY x, he’s y’ don’t hold much water because usually, there’s a pretty good chance a number of writers over the years have written him as x, you just didn’t like it or think it doesn’t count for some reason.

For example ‘Batman isn’t REALLY a good parent, he’s actually a bad parent’, when Batman has been written as a good parent by a number of writers, and has, in addition, been written as realizing that he’s screwed up with his children and resolved to fix it by even more. At the same time, stating ‘Batman isn’t REALLY a bad parent, he’s actually a good parent’ is also incorrect, because Batman has been written as a bad parent by a number of writers, either intentionally or not; in addition, the pattern presented by the tug-of-war between writers who believe he should be a good parent and writers who don’t has, over the years, created an unintentional pattern that strongly resembles that of an abusive relationship. So, stating he is a good parent is inaccurate and dismisses a bunch of his canon writing, but stating he is a bad parent also dismisses a bunch of his canon writing and the intentions of the authors that wrote him.

The secret here is realizing that Batman has had so many writers over the years that it’s practically impossible to find a universal truth about him beyond the basic premise and maybe very, very basic characterization keystones. Writers with different beliefs about both the character and the world at large have written him in accordance to their worldview, and sometimes that worldview will align with yours, and sometimes it won’t.

Like, at this point, Batman is more an idea than he is a character. He is the bare-knuckled fight against injustice, but what ‘injustice’ is depends heavily on your worldview, as does what ‘bare-knuckled’ and ‘fight’ mean. Batman has been interpreted in dozens of different ways over the years, and singling out a few of those as the True Batman is largely arbitrary and dependent on your personal taste and belief in what the character should be. The only ‘objective’ measurement you could apply here are the old Golden Age comics, and I think most fans can agree that measuring modern Batman comics by how faithful they are to the Golden Age comics is, more often than not, a little ridiculous.

For the record, I do think that arguing about what Batman should be matters; if right-wing assholes use the character as a mouthpiece for their worldview we can and should critique that, but not because it’s ‘OOC’, but because the worldview espoused by those right-wing assholes is harmful and shitty. Batman should be a good parent, not because it’s ‘OOC’ for him to be a bad parent, but because having your paragon of justice be a child abuser is pretty shitty. Etc.

I don’t really have anywhere specific to go with this, I just think it’s a little strange when people try to view Batman as a character with a clear-cut characterization, rather than a concept that many people have approached in different ways over the years. Can that concept be mishandled? Sure. But it’s usually mishandled for reasons a bit more substantial than ‘a previous writer wrote it differently’.

#part of me feels like it's a cop-out to say #'batman isn't really a character so much as a concept and he can rarely ever be truly ooc'#'because he's been written by so many different people that practically any interpretation of him has canon back-up'#but at the same time. when you have a decades long history as one of the most well known pop culture icons of our time #i do think you kinda stop being a character and start being more of a concept #this post was inspired by a lot of stuff but the thing on my mind rn is conversations about why batman doesn't kill #and a lot of people being like 'saying batman doesn't kill because he thinks it'd turn him into an unstoppable killing monster is wrong!'#which. isn't true. that's a take many writers have on his character.#you may not like you or think it's stupid or whatever but. it's an interpretation of the no-kill rule with canon backing #and for that matter. even 'batman doesn't kill' is kind of up in the air with many writers taking a more relaxed stance on that #or even outright doing away with it. batman was also written before the concept of him not killing was added to his character #like. with a character with a history as long an profilic as batman. shit's complicated i feel #bruce wayne #my posts #infodumping

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lovelykhaleesiii · 6 months

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I have been going back and forth in posting this, but want to have a clean slate and a clear mind going forward.

this fandom if I am being honest (and from experience in many others) has been the most roller coaster ride. it has been wonderful and blossoming, yet also, toxic and disheartening…

my current state right now, I feel as though I have been shunned from the community from all corners. stranded alone, with only a few friends (I could count them on one hand) to talk to and to trust.

I have been incredibly disappointed in this fandom by people I had considered friends, people that I believed to be sincere and kind, but over time showed a very different and ugly side.

I am not going to sugar coat this topic anymore… and be warned, I will call you out if need be, from this point on. I always had hopes that as a community mostly dominated by adults, we would act more like it, but it seems not. then accountability is necessary, because this school yard behaviour is not it.

I work most of the time, I barely even have time for a social life on top of personal things… tumblr is not my priority. but when I log in on here, I do wish and intend for this to be a space where I can relax and enjoy myself, to be creative and write and share my ideas and stories. to interact with people, to bond over characters and stories that I don’t ever get the chance to in real life, because I barely meet people with similar interests.

this is meant to be my safe haven.

recently it has been quite the opposite…

I have been gaslit, bullied & ghosted/neglected. as someone who genuinely struggles to put herself out there, I have made attempts that I am thankful for yet hurt by the experiences. putting myself in discord chats only to leave in the matter of a few days…

I have said this before and I will say it again. If I ever say anything to you directly or indirectly, and it doesn’t sit right with you. I am open to talk privately about it. I am not perfect, in fact far from it. I have flaws as do we all. I can make mistakes, I am human. if the matter can be resolved, amazing, if not: I don’t expect to get along with EVERYONE on this hellsite. the block and unfollow options are there for a reason!!!

regardless, I understand everyone has their own personal lives and issues… believe me, I DO! I am a huge advocate for life > tumblr. you need a break, take the break. you want to go on hiatus, go on hiatus. you do not owe anyone in this fandom shit, as I have reminded myself as of late. In saying that, showing people common courtesy and decency is not by any means a stretch, it should be the bare minimum.

showing support to your fanfic authors/gif makers and creators is valid and ideal.

I have taken multiple breaks because the stress and exhaustion from my work and personal life has been a lot, that I am able to remove myself from a situation, to not allow anyone else to suffer my ordeal. your actions have repercussions, and you will be held accountable.

to wrap it all up, I will continue to write my little, silly stories, I will continue to read fics. However, I have of recent been so turned off by some of the people in this community, that if I’m being honest (which I also strongly advocate for, and believe I owe whoever read this that), I have no energy to interact with people that have crossed me and made me feel less of the person I am at this point in time. my friends who I respect and admire dearly, know who they are, I don’t need to tell them twice.

when I feel comfortable with this fandom, my interactions may change, but for now. I very much enjoy my small number of friends.

thank you to those who read this entire mouthful, I genuinely appreciate the small things and taking the time out of YOUR day to read and listen to little old me, says a lot.

please take care of yourselves, and I hope that we can create a better more wholesome fandom space.

love always, Hel 🤍

#rant #personal #thank you to anyone who reads this entire thing #I hope you have a wonderful fucking day

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antianakin · 6 months

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what are your opinions on the sequels? specifically how luke (and his new jedi order) is portrayed. but also like just the jedi stuff in general, the training and everyone becoming force ghosts and somehow palpatine

Oh gosh, it has been a MINUTE since I've even watched the Sequels. I'm planning on rewatching them sometime early next year for Reasons, but for both episodes 8 and 9, it'll be the first time I've seen them since I saw them in the theaters. I MIGHT have seen episode 7 after its theater release, but not often. I can definitely say I haven't watched a single one of them since 2019 lol.

All of that to say, I don't remember them super well. I liked episode 7, but didn't care AT ALL for TLJ and was ho hum on TROS. My overall opinion is that it's too bad these characters didn't have anyone writing for them who seemed to actually CARE about them at any point and that nobody bothered to create a fucking blueprint for the entire trilogy and then stick to it. Say what you will about the execution of the Prequels, but Lucas had a damn vision in mind and a clear end goal for the story and the characters and he STUCK TO IT. You can go back to those films and rewatch them and find that story and see the arc he was trying to take the characters on. You may not LIKE what he chose to do or feel like it worked very well, but it's clearly THERE. The same cannot be said for the Sequels. The characters change personalities in basically every film, the primary motivations and intended end goals for them are never consistent, the relationships aren't built up well, and the theme and message of the Sequels is so muddied with all of these changes that they may as well not exist.

All of that is very broad, though, and doesn't touch much on your specific question about the Jedi and Luke and how they were portrayed in the Sequels. To be honest, I don't remember it very well, and when I saw these films, I was a pretty casual Star Wars fan who was still what I would now consider Jedi critical. I didn't hate them by any means, but I had absorbed the fandom osmosis of the Jedi having been too repressive/old-fashioned and how they caused their own doom. So I haven't watched them from a more pro Jedi lens yet in order to comment on it with any level of authority.

What I DO remember feeling was that making Luke bitter was a bad choice. There's undoing a character a little in order to allow them to develop somewhere, and then there's complete and utter character assassination and TLJ's characterization of Luke falls closer to the latter for me. The biggest thing anyone remembers about Luke is that he chose not to kill Anakin in ROTJ. That's his big climactic triumph. He goes on an entire journey towards understanding Anakin and having to accept that Anakin was a person making evil choices so that he could believe in Anakin's ability to be BETTER. That's kind-of the core of Luke's WHOLE JOURNEY. So I don't really get the entire concept of Luke reacting so violently to "feeling some darkness" in his teenaged nephew. He's already sort-of worked through that particular flaw of his and overcome it, why is he suddenly reacting this way? What's the point of that? And why would Luke just completely lose himself to cynicism and bitterness in the aftermath of that kind of failure? What was the point of leaving a piece of map behind or whatever? None of it really seems to make any sense to me and you can just FEEL Rian Johnson sort-of tossing things in the trash as he wrote this so that he could do his own thing.

All of that being said, what I've seen other people comment on is that there's a lot of shit Luke says in TLJ that are pretty anti-Jedi, but that the whole point is that Luke is wrong. Luke is succumbing to despair and so he feels like he's defeated and there's no point to anything and he's WRONG. The movie does pretty strongly emphasize that he's WRONG to feel this way and act like this. So I think a lot of people take what Luke says in this film sort-of at face value without taking into account that context that you're not SUPPOSED to agree with him any more than Rey does. I'm interested to see how I feel about it when I do end up rewatching them in a few months, but it rings relatively true to what I can remember.

It doesn't seem wrong that Luke and Leia could end up being able to ghost, it doesn't make any sense that Han can ghost but we all know that that happened specifically because Carrie Fisher died mid-filming and they had to figure out how to work around that, so I'm willing to give a little bit of slack to TROS for that exact reason.

I don't remember much training even HAPPENING on screen. I remember Luke barely teaching Rey anything at all in the one week she spends with him and Leia sending Rey on an obstacle course at the beginning of TROS. I wish they'd chosen to spend more time really showcasing more of Rey's actual training (or, ya know, FINN training in Force abilities at all), but I don't have any strong feelings about it at this point.

And as for Palpatine, I think everybody knows it was a bad choice to make at this point. It was lazy, it was silly, and it doesn't work. It feels like a direct response to Snoke having been killed off too early and disagreements between the directors and the studio execs about whether Kylo Ren should be a villain or not. It doesn't work and nobody likes it.

So, yeah, my feelings are a little faded at this point because I disliked them enough that when I do my Star Wars marathons, I never include the Sequels in it and I just stop at ROTJ. I feel like that says enough on its own.

#star wars #star wars sequel trilogy

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kestalsblog · 2 years

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Sex & Violence in Writing

You might be surprised how similar writing a sex scene and a violent scene are. I'm not suggesting there is something inherently similar between the two, but rather that the craft of writing them can be remarkably alike

1.Subtlety. A strong sex scene and a war/battle/violent scene generally are more successful if they are subtle rather than over-the-top melodramatic. Why? Because both run the risk of sounding either absurd or funny if they're not carefully understated. A sex scene that goes into deep detail of all the anatomical processes can start to sound comedic or gross really fast. And a violent scene about "blood gushing everywhere, spraying like a fountain" or other hyperbolic descriptive language can quickly become gorey to the point of repulsion or humor. Better to leave out some details and focus on the physical only when necessary. Don't forget to utilize the power of the emotional for both kinds of scenes - characters' feelings & thought processes. Authors can get so caught up in the actions and movement of bodies, they forget the internal significance of scenes like this. And writing in a more subtle way usually helps with this problem.

2. Language: This goes off the last point. An author must be careful which words he/she chooses when writing a sex scene. Too formal and it'll sound to your readers like they are reading a surgery or anatomy book. Too in-depth and casual and it becomes prno/graphic or obscene. Also, some terms for genitalia can be offensive or read as hateful when that isn't the author's intention. I personally strongly dislike the c-word used to describe a woman’s vagina and will stop reading as soon as I confront it. (Let me interrupt myself here to say I am far more forgiving if a character uses a word like this in dialogue or thoughts. I expect characters to have different voices, some of them more grotesque. If you, the author, are using words like this, it can come off as very distatesful.) Regardless, make sure you know the different connotations of different words. Some are more vulgar than others. Same goes with fight/violent scenes. I've read too many scenes where the author dwells in the violence in an almost indulgent/romantic way. This feels sadistic and gratuitous. Also, please make sure you understand the correct anatomy for sex scenes AND fight scenes before you start. Many straight authors will portray gay sex incorrectly, for example. Or an author will write a battle scene where the weapons are not clear and/or the wounds don't align with the actual actions. You can get away with a lot by having an ignorant character, but if you're not informed as a writer, it is usually pretty apparent to more experienced readers. Do research if you need to, but choose your diction carefully.

3. Seriousness: This one is important to me personally. I've read so many stories where the authors go straight to the sex and violence without developing the plot/characters enough for me to understand the importance of either of those actions. Of course genre matters for your particular intentions, but I stand by the fact that for most fiction, authors want sex scenes and scenes of violent tragedy to mean something. And it can't mean much if you rush through the story to get to these points. These types of scenes require a certain kind of seriousness, an almost tender quality. (Yes, even for violence!) Because often these moments are life-altering for our characters, they need to be altering for readers as well.

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #writing #original writing #writing advice #writing help #writing tips #text post #fanfiction #ao3 #for writers #thoughts

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night-market-if · 8 months

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Hi! I've seen a lot of conversations going on about the Milo x Mal poly route and heard you mention self-insert a few times. I'm not sure about others, but I feel like what is off putting is more so the elimination of choice since it's not common amongst IF's as far as I've seen, but I'm not trying to rag on you for making that decision! I just think we're used to making up our own MC's and having freedom to control a lot of aspects of the story, especially when it comes to romance. That being said, look at Soul Stone Wars and Their Majesties Pleasures. EXCELLENT poly routes and I can't imagine playing through them any other way. I think people just need to be more patient and see how it plays out. We haven't interacted at all with the 2 of them together. Books, specifically IF, is actually what opened up my mind to polyamory and I'm excited to see what you do with it. I won't lie, I'm still hesitant but I think the super emotional ending and cliffhanger of book 1 just has people having really strong feelings about it. Feel free to ignore this rant lol I don't mean to give unsolicited opinions and hope this didn't come off as me trying to get you to change your mind. I think you're doing something right if you have us going through so much emotional turmoil over your story 😂

So self insert is kind of the way I use to describe the two very broad types of IF's out there. Of course there is more going into it but I do need to make it clear that while most IF's do not consider MC as a character, I do. It's a different kind of writing than some of the other more popular games out there and I like to remind people of that just in case they are expecting the same from me.

Personally, yes I am eliminating a choice that some readers want but it is not a choice that I want to write. It doesn't feel right to my characters. And I know that is going to irritate some people but I think it is important for readers to remember (this is not directed at you anon) that authors are trying to write the stories they are passionate about. If authors just catered to what the popular vote was for what people wanted out there, we would have a very narrow field of fiction to consume.

Now, I understand that might seem a bit more of a shaky argument when it comes to a game that has choices for you to make. But if an author does not feel strongly about a choice, they shouldn't have to write it. And if I get bad reviews on my game and writing for that? I feel that is far more a reflection on others than me. It also kind of reaffirms that I'm doing what is right for my game. Because sometimes, when shaking up the status quo, people get a little up in arms about it.

I am glad you are excited to see what is to come. I am hopeful this weird poly hate will die down. I am not forcing anyone to romance Milo and have wonderful other options in the game. At this point, it just kind of feels like an attack on the community than anything else.

#the night market #answering your asks #poly #here we go again #i'll wait while I get more hate mail for this answer lol

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andromeda-pleiades · 5 months

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Feel free to just read this and delete it, I don't need a response.

Re: your recent post about noncon/underage content in fandom spaces, specifically in CoD:MW.

It's not an individual's place to police what Fanfiction or Fanart people create. The characters are fictional. The death, torture, and destruction in CoD fics are also fictional. In no country is murder "okay" either, but people die in Fiction all the time. There's a specific tag on Ao3 that authors can and should put on their works if the work features Under-Age or noncon content. You can filter out that tag and not read it.

I don't read them, certainly, bc that's not the kind of story I'm interested in reading, but it doesn't mean it's my right to tell authors to stop writing it. I don't read fics involving daddy kink bc it squicks me out like hell, but it is not my place to tell authors to stop writing fics with it. Fictional characters can't break irl laws, even in "reader insert" fanfictions. Authors are not and cannot be held accountable for the things they write, because they write fictional stories.

I recommend you block the users and tags you don't want to see, and you help encourage the creators you do want to see without insulting others. Your experience will improve. I want it to improve. I don't want you to be unhappy with your experience in any fandom. Fandom spaces are places to find your people, find your little joys, and to coexist peaceably, and it's wonderful when it all works.

With all due respect, you're well spoken, but that's where my respect ends

Let's do this in points

I am not policing what people write. I simply stated how i feel about certain content on the internet.

If you think writing character death or death in general is the same or equal to writing pornographic content about children, you're too far gone.

Once again, you try to dumb down pedophilia into something less than what it is. The things about daddy kinks are two consenting adults who are not getting off on the manipulation and r*pe of children.

Like I said in my previous post, I don't care about your laws or that 'fictional characters' can't break them. I believe that pedophiles are the absolute scum of the earth, and I have no positive feeling when I think of those horrid and disgusting people.

Also, I want to make this very clear. I don't care if you write weird, illegal things like vore or kidnapping on the internet, I only care about the children, and I wish nothing but the worst on anyone who wishes harm on them mentally, physically, and sexually.

I know it may seem hypocritical for me to be okay with certain things on the internet and not okay with other things but I am my own person and I'm allowed to have my own moral compass. And I find no reason why anyone should be okay with this type of content being allowed on the internet.

I know that blocking them and moving on about my day would be the socially acceptable thing to do. But I don't have to be content with the media people consume on the internet. I also have a platform, and I feel strongly about this, so I'm gonna speak out on it.

I know I might sound a bit extremist on this matter, but that's exactly how I feel, I care so deeply about children and their future, and well-being. That I will commit war crimes to make sure they're safe

Also next time you write something think what's the point, if the point is defending pedophiles then you're probably on the wrong side.

#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #ghost #john soap mactavish #john price

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gffa · 6 months

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Hi! Loved your posts a lot. I love Nightwing and redhood .But the thing that annoyed a hell out of me is the way fandom jason is potrayed . Jason stans always want jason to be Nightwing 2.0.Their question is always like why jason isn't respected among heroes like dick? Why jason doesn't lead the titans like dick? .Was jason as good looking as dick?. Jason should be well suited to be spy than dick . Jaybabs is better than dickbabs.Dick is worst friend to roy. Jason should be Tim role model not dick.sometimes it confuses me if they both have same personality with different names. What's your thoughts on this.

I want to step carefully with this answer because I don't want to make it seem like Jason fans are a monolith (they're most definitely not, half of my Cool People in this fandom are the most excellent DC fans you'll ever meet and Jason is Their Guy!!!) or that I'm talking about anything other than a very specific subset of fans. And that any time I say "Jason fans", it is specifically about the subsection who falls into this, not the whole of his fandom!! And, as a caveat, I'm only talking about my experiences in Jason fandom--of which I do consider myself a part of!--but that someone else who is deeper into Jason fandom than I am may have COMPLETELY different experiences than what either you or I have experienced! And, to be clear, I will point the finger in any direction, that every Bat has a subset of fans that is deeply frustrating, Tim fans have it, Damian fans have it, Dick fans have it, Bruce fans have it, etc. Every one of them has that group of fans that I go ??? over. But also I think I should be clear in that I think we should try to approach other corners of fandom with empathy, because a) we're all annoying nerds to someone else as well, that's just what fandom is and b) this fandom is hostile enough over comic book characters of all things, I'm going to try to limit the amount of gasoline I throw on the fire. ;) I think what causes a lot of fanon Jason in a certain subset of fandom comes from a mix of - Not a lot of regular appearances/his own book/GOOD appearances in his own book/a consistent characterization in those books - A lot of people read more fic than they do the comics - People naturally want their babygirl to have nice things, that's a pretty human response - Jason was kind of created to be a Dick Grayson clone in the first place, in some ways, so it's a natural extension

Jason fans have it rough in canon because he is all over the place, he's not written consistently, so half of the time he's written as the woobie, half of the time he's written as two steps away from being full villain, and it feels like every author has a different take on how Jason sees himself or what he wants. It's hard to agree on what Jason's character is like/what the point of him in the larger comics landscape is, because even the canon can't agree on that. So, then you throw in all these epically long fics that are written by extremely talented authors, who have a consistent take within their own writing, which explores Jason's issues in a way that feels like it has a lot more depth and vulnerability to him, and it's easy to go, yeah, okay, comics are kind of thin, but now I have this strongly developed sense of him in my mind! And when comics don't match that, when Jason is meaner or more of a villain or less cool in the comics, because the comics didn't do all that character work, the fic did, it becomes easy to go, "This isn't what Jason deserves, he deserves to have his issues explored better!" And, like. Jason does deserve better than what Nu52 gave him. It's a thing that a lot of fic vs comics have--like, there's a subset of Tim's fandom that writes him as the most delicate character ever (there's a lot of fic that explores Tim's vulnerabilities, I am not talking about those!!!) and, guess what, has to make Dick a terrible person in those fics as well, like the whole "Dick tried to send Tim to Arkham" is a straight up lie about what happened, but how many of us have still come across it? Which I think comes from that Dick Grayson is a character that you just kind of can't remove from the foundational Batman narrative and mythos, like you can't remove Bruce and still get what you need for the set-up--but Bruce occupies the space of "Dad" for the characters, so he has a very different, defined place in the Robin Of Choice's life. Dick, on the other hand, you can't just lift him out--he created Robin, he was the one that dragged Bruce out of the dark in the first place and created the role of Adopted Kid Who Bruce Is Complicated About, and still occupies that space very strongly. Even when he hasn't been Robin in a long time, his shadow casts extremely long, because honestly I'll die on the hill that I think he's everyone's favorite Robin to this day. Bruce? Yeah. Jason? Yeah. Tim? Yeah. Damian? Even if he never met Robin!Dick, I'd bet he's still say Dick was his favorite Robin. Superman? Explicitly said it in a comic.

(And I feel like there's an element that can be explored on how Dick also set the expectation of how to grow out of being Robin--he moved on to being Nightwing, so we expect that of the other Robins. I've been complaining forever that Tim needs to be allowed to finally do this, to step out of being Robin and not just be Red Robin, but to find his own unique thing. And, honestly, that probably does look more like Nightwing than not. I think there's an expectation that eventually Damian will realize that he doesn't want to be Batman and will instead be something else--or at least that it's a strong possibility. Which again looks a lot more like Nightwing than it maybe should. Because what else do you do with characters when you want to establish them out on their own? So Jason should follow that same path, right? He's kind of halfway onto it, with being Red Hood now, it's just that Red Hood has such a complicated history with how many people he's murdered, so what other options should there be? And patterning him after Nightwing, just as his Robin was patterned off of Dick's Robin in a lot of ways, could be a natural step forward for him there, too.) So, the specter of Dick Grayson hangs over the role and the Bat-son's place in Bruce's life--two things that are big issues in Jason's life. Then you add in that Jason was basically created to replace Dick Grayson exactly, like you can't even tell the difference in half of the panels of Jason's time as Robin if you don't already know. Then you add in that, to try to flesh out Roy's character, they gave him Roy and Kory as friends, two people who were Dick's friends first. And that makes sense--who else would you have as Jason's friends, given his general age? The Justice League is too old for him, Young Justice is too young for him, the only major team in his age bracket are the Titans--characters he does have some connection with, via Roy and Kory. And it's a natural question of, well, why didn't Jason lead them, too? Because Dick lead a team, Tim lead a team, it felt like a thing Robin was supposed to do, to the point that, when Dick introduced Damian to the Teen Titans, he automatically assumed he would lead (well, that's also just Damian XD) because that's what Robins do, why shouldn't Jason, too? So, I see where all of it comes from and understand the appeal--it's a lot more fun than the canon for Jason can be at times and feels like it understands his character better and fanon Jason is a lot more likeable and there's often times a lot that's explore that is really, really good character stuff. I think a lot of Dick's characteristics get ported over to Jason because there's just not as much else established for him in the canon, whether friends or a solidified narrative presence or even a consistent characterization, and Dick's a fun character, he has a rich history of friends and complicated dynamics with characters, like his relationship with Bruce is ridiculously fun to dig into, his relationship with Jason can actually be really interesting, his relationship with Tim is both adorable and has some nice crunch, his relationship with Damian is heart-wrenching--who wouldn't want a character with a wealth of dynamics and characterization to step into? Especially when you go back to canon and Jason's borderline a villain who isn't justified in killing people but still does it anyway, whose trauma is not getting explored in a way that's as satisfying as fanon's version of him is, because canon Jason is a lot more of a hot mess and stepped over the line, while fanon Jason tends to be more righteous and still on the right side of the line. (Or at least intended to, there's a lot of "Jason should be allowed to kill people and not be a bad guy for it." out there.) I think this is why I get a lot of Jason fans reblogging my comics posts about canon who yell at me for liking garbage comics when, guys, I'm just reacting to what's actually on the page for Jason.

Jason is a character who has this massive fandom that has been built up around the potential of the character, much of which had to be borrowed from Dick because that's the only really available options and because his central relationship (the one with Bruce) has so many parallels to Dick's relationship (with Bruce) and because Dick being who he is means that he's very easy to like (Dick's not perfect and I'm certainly biased here, but I do genuinely think that Dick is pretty easy to like as a person) and because he has such a rich history of dynamics and relationships that fans see as being really fun to explore, if only Jason had had those relationships instead. I suspect a lot of it comes down to that there's this massive fandom for Jason--fic, posts about him, fanart of him, headcanons for him, etc., throw a rock in fandom and you'll hit a popular post that has Jason as their babygirl Blorbo--and comics themselves don't often match that and comics fandom are pretty notorious for hating their source material/throwing it out in a way that's borderline assumed default MO, so Jason fans aren't any different from people complaining that this comic or that comic coming out right now are garbage. Anyway, that's been my experience. It's not that Jason fandom doesn't do unique things with Jason's character (his death is different from what Dick's experienced, his relationship with Bruce does often come in different flavors, etc.) but the places where they overlap are ones that I can understand why it happens, even if I often personally find that it doesn't match up to who he is in the source material now and feel like there's a lot of really good, crunchy unexplored angles for a character who has been deeply hurt, but went over the line about it, like that's why the recent short story in Beast World Tour: Gotham went so hard for me, because it felt like it had teeth and claws in a way that I've been wanting for Jason for a long time.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #jason todd

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