#( its his only argument at this point but he's like after the comment: ''... pls don't be mad i can't believe i said that outloud?'' )

[chcoticmuses]

there was a better way to go about this, you know. - Troy/Odette

''--sorry, only following what my scheduled programming has loaded up for me.'' the frustration had been rising within him and the retort was out before he even realized it, turning away for a moment to drag a hand along his features. he never liked to get hot, troy attempted to remain as neutral as he could but.. the little bit of willpower he'd been holding onto, had snapped. ''i asked nicely.. not my fault no one took the hint to walk away.''

@dcydrecmings

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

So...did a little digging (like 8 minutes' worth, nothing too extravagant) and I think you're getting hate anons because that blog interacts with some of the worst from the fairy fandom. I don't think they're aware of it since they did ask people not to send you hate, but...I think the people sending you hate are pretty much damn near the same ones that did when you were worldsnotsaid.

Hi anon!

I thank you for that!

And warning this is long (and the last I will speak on it all! truly y'all no more screenshots and stuff pls this stuff is frustrating as it is)

But I'm gonna kind of push back on that. I received a lot -- and I mean alot of hate with discussing the topics on my @/worldsnotsaid blog, and hell -- I still do now, but it was a bit different.

That person can actually just kiss my black ass. And I mean that, wholeheartedly. All of those anons are flocking to my page arguing me with talking points from their post. A post that I cannot see - and that I did not MAKE.

That person only asked that after they had (1) already made yet another post essentially dumbing down all my points and focusing only on the one point I made about people only caring about the Darkling because he fulfill some sort of fantasy and then they then engaged in and enabled the idea that I was somehow without a brain for making such claims - or at least lumping me in with a general audience that did. They did so again after blocking me and continually continuing on the conversation under the post that I CAN NOT SEE. They then played the 'we really agree!"

If we 'really agreed' with one another - why did they block me? Why did they even have a problem with my post in the first place? We are literally making the exact same points at this point. The point that I literally made in the initial post that they and others commented on. The problem was that they (1) ignored the entire bottom half of the initial point and (2) made this assumption that I said the Grisha problem wasn't worth talking about. I never said those things. I literally said (1) that the Grisha oppression is written unseriously and that (2) the oppression of Grisha is hindered by the fantastical elements of the story. I then followed up that post with this post - expounding and making the same points they ended up just restating in another way. I never said that the Grisha plight 'wasn't worth being angry at' or that people 'had no right to feel about them I said in my own words that at some point we have to hang up the argument that the Grisha oppression is comparable to real life. If the point of contention wasn't my opinion on the Darkling as a character - and they secretly always agreed with the point I was making what was the reason for all of this? The real world talking point of misogynoir, racism, and the dynamic (the real dyanamic) between men of color and women of color in revolutions was literally completely ignored in favor of what????? Whatever fantasy fulfillment they get from his character. Like if you care about the topics regardless of the Darkling and my opinion on him -- what the fuck were we arguing? I know what I was arguing. And it stands as it always did. Fantasy racism is not comparable to real life. It stops being a fruitful allegory. It happened for ZooTopia, X-Men, Shadow and Bone, Bright, Attack on Titan. It stops being a fruitful discussion outside of the story. You are allowed anger at things - a dynamic that can echo real-life sentiments etc., but as an actual, coherent argument outside of the story - it's not viable (see: this post and this post). Racism is a very specific sort of ideology, as is Homophobia and Xenophobia or any adjacent. What makes them dangerous is the futileness of it. It is an irrational fear or bigotry and its able to evolve because it will always find a way to rear its head to create distinctions. That was literally the entirety of my claim. I critiqued the narrative, the author, and the structure of it all.

And again I can't even see all of this on my own - someone literally sent me the screenshots of all of this bullshit bc THEY blocked me immediately after making the post? So thank you very much anon, truly but that person can fuck off and take their 'don't bully🥺" bullshit with them. They created an argument where there was none and I am not interested in playing nice about it. That shit was frustrating and these anons are frustrating and I blame them all for that shit. If they wanted a proper conversation they would have stuck it out and had one with me, they could have DM'd me, they could have done anything but that. That shit was very disingenuous. I'm playing with the fandom Gaslighting shtick. And for the ones hanging around from my last blog pls fuck off I'm not going around in circles arguing about a ratface man. We have closed that chapter for the love of god.

[wooahaes]

agdghshd what if frenemies to lovers volleyball jihoon

ok i took a lil break from these (she says 20 hours after u sent this) and im not actually a 100% on which jihoon u mean BUT ive been getting a ton of trsr reqs so im gonna assume its tht jihoon!! if it just happens to be my wooahae man pls just send this again bc ill absolutely talk abt him too

frenemies to lovers tho omg... you and jihoon have always been like. friendly enough with one another. u both are on opposing volleyball teams (co-ed in general btw just to keep stuff gn) and ppl think that you two actually hate each other on the court because you constantly trash talk one another. its all in good fun, but there have def been a few instances where one of you genuinely ended up mad at the other bc it was taken too far (usually made up for with paying for the other's meal and apologizing). honestly i think the two of u just have friends in common too, so ur friendly w one another overall. the enemies part just comes out bc ur on rival teams and the two of u just happen to be competitive abt volleyball.

hmm... honestly i think there could be some kind of misunderstanding scenario here tht takes it from frenemies to legit enemies for a lil bit, but only with it coming after some one-on-one bonding (aka the falling for one another bit) and some sort of deal that he'll tell you a secret if your team beats him at the next major match between the two of u. maybe u get legit pissed at jihoon based off something you heard him say, but didnt get the full story since you had practice. ur aggressive during the next game, things escalate, and end up in an argument after someone gets hurt. ur team loses and u take off, kind of just pissed in general. jihoon ends up finding u where u usually go when ur mad (maybe a park or something) and sets down a sports drink next to you. serious convo abt what was said, jihoon clears it up, and u feel a lil dumb and apologize to him.

he asks if you remember the deal, and you do but point out that ur team lost. he makes a comment that he didnt say he wouldn't tell you if you lost--just that he would definitely do it if you won... and also his team is refusing to let him back down again. so he confesses he likes you and wants to take you on a date tonight. u point out tht his team is supposed to be celebrating and he says that he can celebrate after their next win and you can come along then, too, as his partner. its a lil cheesy and you tease him abt 'what if i don't like you back? hm?' but he chases after you and holds ur hand and asks what you wanna get for dinner and that he'll be a ~gracious~ date and pay for you too And walk you home afterward (bc he knows you'll tease him back over it all)

[youryanderedaddy]

Every breath you take

You heard of Corpse husband, now get ready for corpse wife--

tw: female reader, necrophilia so non - con, murder, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, dirty talk, overall nasty shit that i needed to get out of my system, pls don't read if such stuff makes u uncomfortable

Jack couldn’t bear to look at you without feeling his stomach crumble and twist sharply and violently. You looked almost normal. Besides the empty stare in your now dark lightless eyes and the dead weight of your arms stilled tightly by your side. Besides the necklace of pretty sky - coloured bruises and purple bite marks around your delicate neck. If your boyfriend was to simply press his lips against yours in a desperate attempt to savour your final cries, he might just be able to feel their silky softness - the smooth edges of your tiny side smile against his cheek, the pure scarlet warmth of your slightly open mouth and the millions pained whispers falling out with each heartbeat of your very soul. And If the man was to hold your hand he could pretend it wasn’t colder than ice itself.

It was an accident. It had to be, otherwise Jack wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Just minutes ago you were safe and sound in his embrace, screaming, thrashing and fighting at every turn, but still safe none the less. Then you had told him you hated him. That you could never love someone as cruel and sick as him. He didn’t remember much from the resulting argument, other than him on top of you with his hand around your throat, your lips turning blue and your eyes closing slowly as you lost consciousness completely. Your boyfriend was ready to give everything for you to shout at him again, for you to squirm around like a battered animal like you used to, insead of watching you lay on the ground, motionless and still, peaceful like an angel. He wanted the old you back, the you who wasn’t quite living (since you always went on about how Jack had stolen your life away from you), but breathing and alive. You were quiet and obedient just like your captor had always wanted, such a good girl for him now that you were dead and unable to protest any of his sick, twisted desires. 

A single tear ran down the man’s black charcoal eyes as he lowered his head and kissed you softly, careful and wary, like you would wake up any moment and push him away in horror. The graze was airy and almost sweet, so different from all the other rough invasive kisses he had forced upon you in the past as a reminder of your place beneath him. Yet this one tasted of nothing, but blood and ice. Your lips were cold, but your body was still warm somewhere under that flimsy blue sundress your boyfriend had helped you put on in the morning. It made you look so innocent, so childlike in your eternal sleep. Jack stared at you for what felt like an infinity, unable to look away, hypnotized. He ran a finger through your exposed collarbone, then laid his head on your chest, listening to the silence. You were dead, but your breasts were still so soft and squishy, the man decided. Jack’s hands were glued to your waist, admiring your curves as he dug his nails deep into the loose fabric, ripping it away from your figure, causing shivers down the delicate skin. Your back hit the ground, sinking into the soil and the mud, a couple of daisies forming a crown above your head. You were so beautiful all vulnerable like that, his sweet Persephone, queen of the underworld and of his heart, too. 

“You’re so lovely, dear.“ The man spoke out as he positioned himself above you, his eyes hungry and sharp as he stroked your cheek, devoid of any colour. “No panties, huh?“ Jack whispered lustfully, his voice raspy and deranged, and cupped your sex. If you were still alive you would have turned red, stuttering as you explained that it was him who ordered you to go bare under the dress, but now you remained quiet like a blushing bride on her wedding day. The lack of protest only managed to stir the maniac up further, and he unbuckled his jeans to free his half - hard member. “LIttle minx.“ He cooed at you and ruffled your hair, fisting your locks to pull your head down, thus arching your back and exposing your neck to his sharp teeth. “I am going to use you, precious. You want to be useful to me, don’t you?“ Your boyfriend muttered against your throat as he covered it in harsh lovebites and hickeys, only growing satisfied when there wasn’t even an inch unmarked. “Because you are mine, baby. You are my good girl.“ He kept going, stroking himself in the process until his cock was practically oozing with pre - cum. Jack smirked when he didn’t hear the typical whimpers and cries of disgust you usually showered him in when he let himself act possessive of you. The man wasn’t sure why you always denied the truth - you were his and his alone, even after death did you part.

Your tormentor spent the next ten minutes squeezing and kneading your breasts, pinching the nipples, covering them in sticky white semen. Jack almost missed the way your chest would rise and fall with each soft breath escaping your rosy lips. When he was done playing with your body like you were nothing more than a rag doll your boyfriend spread your legs wide open, and his mouth watered at the godly sight. “You have such a pretty cunt, dear.” He commented lovingly, his fingers pushing and poking at your pink slit, abusing the nerve ending still functional despite its owner not being able to. “I am doing to force my cock deep inside your pussy, and there is nothing you can do about it, baby.” The man laughed manically, high off this new found power and control over your lifeless body. When you were alive you would beg him to stop by this point, crying and whimpering helplessly. Now he could pretend that you actually wanted him to ruin you. That you needed him as much as he needed you. 

Your boyfriend entered your tight hole with a sharp deep thrust, his lenght reaching your cervix with each and every brutal move. In and out, in and out again and again. The man felt like he could fuck into you forever - there was no pressure to stop and your muscles were completely relaxed now so it was up to him to take his own pleasure from your unwilling uncooperative body. “You’re so loose, honey.” He growled, biting your earlobe and moaning into your ear. “Guess I really wore you out the past few months.” Jack suggested playfully, a hint of pride apparent in his thick voice. Soon enough he was groaning loudly and ruthlessly pounding into you, covering your whole body in mud and grass. The pale moonlight lit up your sweaty face, making you look lively and vibrant once again. Your captor claimed your lips hungrily, licking and biting them into a swollen bloody mess. “Fuck, take it, my love.” He commanded as he lifted your body in order to go even deeped into you. “Take all of me inside.” The man added quickly, thrusting one last time before the pleasure overtook his senses and he arched his back in delight. He inhaled deeply as he pulled out of your used up hole, dripping with his seed. 

In that moment the man knew that he had to let go of you eventually. It wouldn’t be too long before your perfect little body decomposed and your beauty faded in the face of death, but there was some time between now and then. And he intended to make good use of it. 

[miazeklos]

HEY. HEY PUT THOSE TAGS INTO A FULL STORY PLS. Comfort. Healing. D-0 (I LOVE THAT LITTLE GUY!!!) don't just hide this potential in tags! :O

Anything for you, dear. ;D Based on this post. This is also on AO3 because it’s Christmas Eve and therefore traditional.   Also I gotta warn you, this was written... entirely on public transport, so sorry in advance for any mistakes. 

.

They wait out the rest of the war onTatooine.

Ben had been the one to bring it up,resolute to go alone, and Rey had followed without a second thought. They lieas low as they can at first, eager to avoid the wrath of anyone who couldfollow them here, but they plant themselves into the locals's lives soon enough,taking on the role of mechanics for anyone who could need their services inexchange for anything to help them earn a living. Even though it's onlytemporary, things are still light years better than they had been on Jakku. Shehas a home here, not a makeshift shelter, and better yet, she might have afamily. It's only when they both find the rhythm of their new life that sherealises how easy it actually is.

“D-0, what happened to my memory circuit?”

“I-in here.”

“Are you still hoarding my droids?” Rey looks up from the engine she's beenslaving over for a week now just in time to catch the deadpan look he sends herway. The contrast between their working stations never fails to make her smile,even if the reasons behind it are less than pleasant - hers is clean enough,after years of doing this on her own, and the chaos that reigns over Ben's,with his two helpers and the array of needed parts that he has floating inorbit around him, is such an obvious compensation for an absence that it makesher heart ache. When he’s like this – entirely consumed by whatever is takinghis attention, face scrunched up in concentration with a lightness to his bodythat hadn’t seemed possible before – she thinks she might never want to lookaway.

“This is an assistance droid. It's what he does. I had a similar one as a child.”He stretches his hand out impatiently, only to realise that the miniaturecompartment needs to be manually opened. “Give it here.”

“N-no thank you.” D-0 rolls away before Bencan have another chance to approach and he retracts his arm as if he'd beenburnt, the pile of metal suspended in the air coming to a precarious stop as hefrowns.

“He does that with everyone.” Hisexpression eases, but there's still something there, bigger than astrangely misbehaving droid, as if he had understood but rather wished hehadn't. It’s something Rey has seen before, but he carefully tucks the emotionaway before she can so much as nudge it awake. “I'm not sure what happened tohim, but it takes him a while to approach a human. Or anything bigger than BB-8.”

“It’s all right. See?” He taps the droid inquestion until he gets an acknowledgment as D-0 whirls away pensively at a safedistance. “It’s not always bad.”

“O-often.”

Ben freezes for a moment before, with aquick glance at Rey and the work she’d forgotten about, hunching back over hisown project. “Someone needs to fix that defect of his. Droids don’t stutter.”

It would be an easy enough thing to dealwith and they both know it, but Rey bites the comment back along with a widearray of things he might not be quite ready to hear her say. “He’s fine as heis.”

A week later, as they flee through themarket on the run from the scene that they’d left behind – a spy that they’dhad to dispose of once he’d attacked them, again,though whether it’s from the former First Order or the new New Republic thistime, Rey isn’t sure any longer – the droid is the first thing Ben asks foronce he’s sure they’re safe.

~.~

She starts to notice a pattern after that.

It’s a silly thing to pay so much attentionto, given what had started it, but it’s impossible to ignore once Rey catcheson – no matter what he does, no matter how content or safe he is, everythingfrom Ben’s direction feels like he’s suspended mid-air, constantly waiting forthe other shoe to drop. What exactly it is that he’s expecting is impossible totell, but it’s there all the same, like an anxious backdrop to his every move.It relaxes its hold on him more and more every day and it never disappearscompletely – every step he makes is made with him holding his breath.

She finally cracks when she steps into theshower one day and sees him stiffen for all of a moment, shoulders caving inbefore he lets go.

“This doesn’t bother you when I do it.” It’sbarely a question and he cracks one eye open to give her a questioning look. “Unexpectedtouching.”

“No.” He rinses the soap out of his hair,the pristinely maintained air of nonchalance only giving when she doesn’telaborate either. “Why should it?”

Lessthan a year ago, I could have used it to kill you.It’s such a distant thought now, when he looks her in the eye, as open as he’sbeen ever since the very start. It had just meant something different then. “Itdoes with everyone else. I’ve seen it in a crowd. With our neighbours, too.”They don’t have too many of those and it’s still just a temporary home, but thepeople in their vicinity tend to be surprisingly affectionate. He’s always acutelyaware of his surroundings, but never of her – if anything, Rey suspects thatshe might have caught him by surprise only due to the fact that her presence isalready constant in his mind. “It doesn’t surprise you when it bothers others,too.”

“Is this about the droid?”

He’s just incredulous enough for her toknow that she’s right. “The same droid you’ve trained to trust you?”

The smile she gets in return might just bethe saddest one he’d ever given her. It’s a good thing, Rey supposes – she’sbeen seeing him happy more and more often lately and if memories are the onlything that can draw this out of him, it’s all the better for both of them.

“I’ve found that if you can’t train peopleto trust you, you have to teach yourself to duck out of their way.” There’s ascattered, chaotic recoil of recollection somewhere deep inside him, of lightningand shouting and pain and more pain It stretches on, seemingly over the courseof years, right before he shoves it out of sight. It’s horrifying, even more sofor how matter-of-fact he finds it – it’s a part of his life, just another laststraw on top of years of questioning and doubt, both external and internal; alifetime of looking over his shoulder and only seeing more unanswered questionsscattered along his path. It’s something she understands all too well, but eventhen, it’s far too much and for the first time, she sees it all, laid out likean open book in front of her on his command. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,”he says, voice even lower than usual as he finally looks her in the eye, “but Ihave to train people out of mistrusting me.”

He’d never managed to train himself to trust him, that much Rey knowsnow. It almost makes her laugh; how for a long time, she had hoped against hopethat he would end up the explanation to all of her missing pieces (the past andthe peace and the hope, both her own and the ones of the entire galaxy), giventhat she’d answered some of his own questions in the meantime. Bond or no bond,she can’t imagine the relief it must have been – realising that she had lookedat him and had seen nothing but him alone, without a single accusation orpraise or expectation.

“Not me,” she argues immediately, ready fora rebuttal. He’s fond of arguing for argument’s sake, she’d had the time tofind out, but this might just be too important for him to try it now.

“No,” Ben agrees and there’s a little awein there too, just before he breaks into a smile. It’s entirely different thistime and it lights up his entire face and she’s already gravitating towards itlike a spaceship towards its homing beacon even before his hand cups her cheekand draws her closer. “Not you.”

~.~

When she wakes up the next day, the otherhalf of the bed is empty.

It’s a relatively common occurrence forher; waking up alone. Ben is a light sleeper and doesn’t seem to need much ofit to begin with, while Rey had had a much easier time of it ever since they’darrived on Tatooine. It would be a day like any other if it hadn’t been for thevoices in the only other room in the house and the strange mechanical wheezing thataccompanies it.

“Ben?” She rubs the sleep out of her eyesand pats the floor for her lightsaber, checking in on him through the bond oninstinct. He’s tense but not afraid, though that might just be the effort notto wake her – perhaps whoever is there doesn’t know that he’s not alone. Itshould have shocked her, how quickly every possible enemy on every spot on thespectrum had shifted into a vague theywhen they’d ended up alone against the rest of the galaxy, but it’s almost ahabit by now. Back when they had first slept with their weapons under theirpillows, it had been easier to think of their potential enemies as varying degreesof dangerous. Now, it’s just a distant sort of anxiety, ready to jump up atevery hint of a threat.

Lightsaber clutched in her hand, shetiptoes over to the door as the frenzied noise grows louder and her breathleaves her on a relieved exhale just as it comes to an abrupt stop.

“Do you see now? There’s no point infussing. This could have been much easier.” The sight in front of her is afamiliar one – Ben’s lying on his front on the floor, eyes shielded by themakeshift mask he usually uses when needed as he clutches D-0 in one hand and adrill in the other. Rey plucks one of the instruments floating around the roomand revels in the fact that he doesn’t flinch at the disturbance, the tension frommoments ago seeping away in favour of mild annoyance.

“B-better now.”

“I know.Now you can’t pretend you can’t hear me when I ask for something.” He tossesthe drill away in favour of an unsettlingly large needle. “We have to do something about this speechpattern. I thought it would go away on its own, but it’s been months.”

“R-Rey.”

“Yes, most likely. She’s good at that, isn’tshe?” The tone shifts from berating to almost conspiratorial mid-sentence and Reysteps fully into the room once his greeting flows through the connectionbetween them, as well as the awareness of her presence, and the warmth thatfollows engulfs her from head to toe, gentle and tentative and so carelesslyhonest that it nearly makes her cry. “Fixing things.”

When he turns to face her, she throws thewrench in his general direction. “I’m not sure he needs my help with thingsthat can fix themselves.”

Ben swiftly moves its course towards thetable where her weapon is already resting, returning her grin with one of hisown as he jumps up to his feet, repairs temporarily forgotten. “Perhaps not,”he allows, nearing her without an ounce of hesitation (it might not matteranymore, she thinks, how many times they’ve caught each other with their guarddown; not when it’s far more of a blessing than it’s ever been a curse). Atlong last, he’s actually landed, right here in front of her, without the pastbreathing down his back. It might be just around the corner, but the change isstill palpable enough for Rey to realise that she’d been holding her breathwith him; enough for her to feel nearly lightheaded as her own memories slip tothe side right along with his. “It’s enough that you’re here.”

This time, when she reaches out towardshim, Ben meets her halfway.