#I'm purely just throwing ideas out you guys know that I don't write like half of the shit I post here

[thegnomelord]

okay i finally caved and wanted to talk about my idea for a nishruu inspired monster of sorts? i just enjoy rambling a little bit as you may be able to tell

so nishruu. red whisps that endlessly hunt down magic and magical items to sate their hunger, so these creatures are a nightmare for mages and magic wielders. all of my knowledge for these guys comes from dnd, so ill have to take a few creative liberties but im not complaining! pure nishruus are rare - as well as humans that have under some circumstances become fused with these little magic eaters. they're slightly similar to wraiths - having whispy bodies that are impossible to contain considering how they can slip through even the smallest of cracks. they look... mostly human, besides the way their forearms, into their hands, fade into a red mist that flows off of their form, and how they can turn fully into whisps and slip away. these half-nishruus rely on magic to sustain themselves the same, so it isn't uncommon for these acceptionally rare monsters to seek out mages or other magic wielders and make a deal. i really love symbiosis - and considering that half-nishruus have human intelligence, making a deal is typically the best plan for them.

the deals are usually simple - in exchange for some magic to keep them sustained, the nishruus will fight to keep the person they made the deal with alive. after all, it's wise for them to keep their... supplier? alive, considering how many magic wielders will likely throw salt the second they see red whisps. oh, and nishruus main weaknesses are salt. it deals damage similar to poison to them. some magic wielders have even been spotted with sealed amulets containing a strange red substance inside, containing these nishruus until battle comes, where they release the magic eaters (which are likely very hungry) to aid them against any enemies who may have magical weapons or spells

also just imagining a nishruu hybrid crawling over to ifrit and begging for a deal, then ifrit keeps them like a pokemon lmao

-🪸

Okay this is cool and got me brain doing the hyperfocusing thingy so here's a noncannon blurb with Ifrit set at a time when Ifrit's been, mostly, redeemed lol. Probably doesn't make much sense but idk

You stare at Price, unmoving, unblinking. Then your gaze slowly slides to the man sitting across Price's desk. Corporal Simmons shrinks into himself, shoulders hunching and looking down, unable to meet your eyes. He doesn't know why he feels like a little boy in your presence, he's your superior for fuck's sake, but the way you look at him. . . if fucking scares him.

Finally, you speak, voice softer than Simmons expected it to be. It only makes the cold edge to it press against his throat harder. "Captain, with all due respect, which is none." You say, your hard gaze falling back to Captain Price. "What the fuck?"

Price lets out a low sigh, already done with your shit yesterday. "Don't make me write you up private." You both know he won't, you've said and done worse things than this. "You heard me clearly."

"Yeah, I heard you." You say, unable to hide the way your muscles tense, your fingers curled into fists. "I just don't understand why I have to keep the damn leech alive."

Simmon's tries to speak up, "Hey, I'm not-"

"Shut your mouth." The way you say it leaves no room for argument. Even without using magic, Simmons can feel the way it simmers beneath your skin, like lava bubbling beneath the earth. So plentiful and vast it makes his mouth water, stomach coiling itself into knots as red smoke fizzles at his fingers. God, he's so hungry, he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"Captain, there are other mages that would be more than happy to have this parasite attached to them." You grunt, motioning loosely to Simmons. "I don't get why I have to feed the damn thing." You make your disgust for Simmon's painfully clear.

"That's enough private." Price's growl forces you to listen, your attention on him as he stands. "This is an order." His hand reaches out to grip your chin, his touch making your skin prickle even when the balaclava you wear dampens the touch. "You will follow." His blue eyes stare into yours, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. It's almost endearing, the way he does it, but you know enough about dragons to see the hidden dominance in his touch. "Am I clear?"

You feel yourself frown, your eyes narrowing. "If it tries anything funny I'm taking it behind the barn and putting it down."

"Ifrit." The latter half of your callsign rolls off his tongue into a low rumble. Price tightens the hold on your chin, making it clear you're skirting the line of how much you can push before he needs to tan your ass to get some obedience back in you.

It makes your lightning prickle beneath your skin, "Yes sir." You grumble. "I understand."

"Good mage." He tuts and lets you go, "Dismissed."

You nod your head, your eye catching Simmon's as you turn to your heel. "Follow." You say, the sharpness in your voice making him scramble out of his seat after you. He sticks close to you as you walk through the hallways until you reach the training area, the walls and floors singed and blackened from weeks of training.

"Just so you know." You say, turning to look at Simmons. "As far as I'm concerned, death would suit you better." You say as you take off your glove, revealing the cooled mana texture of your mage marks. You hold your hand out, your fingertips starting to glow as you let a bit of mana flow to your palms.

Simmon's nearly stumbles over his feet, hands reaching out to hold your hand. He can't help but moan as he presses his lips to your palm, the smoke coming from his arms curling around your skin. He feels like a starving man finally getting a glass of water, feeling the mana flow into his body. He feels hot, his tongue tingles like he's just eaten something spicy, but god if feels wonderful.

He doesn't think he's ever met a mage with so much plentiful mana as you, his teeth nibbling on the volcanic chunks of your palm as he devours more mana. It curls in his belly, traveling through his veins, making him feel so warm and he just wants more, more, More—

"That's enough." You growl, pulling your hand back and quickly putting your glove back on. "Should be enough for a week." You grunt, leaving him standing where he is.

[the-fluff-piece]

OMGG CONGRATS ON YOUR 200 FOLLOWERS, I LOVE YOU TOO 🥺😭💖

so... I have a really low self-esteem and my mind always makes me think I'm unworthy or don't deserve a lot of things I have in life

that being said, could I request prompt 1- sweet/ cozy with Ace? Pretty please? (the thought of him putting his hat on our heads makes me feel so warm inside 🥺 can you maybe include this, please?)

again, congratulations on your milestone, I love you & your writing and i'll be here to accompany you on this journey 🥰💖

Hello my dearest, you're the best 🥺 I am so happy that you're still here, you're so precious (I'm not crying, you're crying 😭)

So I hope you like this story, I tried to make it positive and uplifting

This is part of my follower milestone event

Here's

Love sick

You've been with the whitebeard pirates for quite some time now and your secret crush for Ace is growing constantly- until something needs to be done!

This is pure sfw heartwarming superfluff about Ace being super supportive and taking care of a super anxious and shy gender neutral reader

At this point, it was an open secret everyone knew about, except Ace. Every time you saw him you froze, everytime you tried to talk to him your voice gave out, everyone with half a brain cell could see that you loved him, except Ace. There is still a debate what that makes him intellectually.

You've come to a point when your crush turned from delicious butterflies in your stomach to a painful hum of constant anxiety in your head. The idea that he would never see you, never return your feelings and probably end up with a much better girl was so excruciating to you, it was making it hard to sleep or eat. Or concentrate. It became so bad that one day, you found yourself being pushed into Marco's office because you fell asleep at your post. You where sitting there miserably while he did some superficial examinations and asking question about your symptoms.

"Have you lost your appetite?" He asked.

"Not really" you lied. He didn't need to know that.

"I'm gonna add denial to your symptoms because just from looking at you I can tell you lost weight."

"Uhm...ok" you conceded. Maybe, you still felt too fat though.

"You know Ace is a nice guy" Marco stated matter of factly.

You got dizzy from the sudden rise in blood pressure this name caused.

"I know that!" You squeaked.

"Than why are you acting like telling him how you feel is dangerous? Even if he didn't return your feelings, he'd be super chill about it." Marco said with his usual calm expression, while you were almost fainting from embarrassment. "Yeah, everyone knows, don't panic." Sitting down at his desk he added "that's my counsel to improve your health: talk to Ace. Tell him how you feel. Get drunk if it helps you." He turned around, telling you that this appointment was over.

With a head as red as a a tomato and swaying a bit from all the heart racing you got out of Marco's office and had to sit down for a second.

"Hey Y/n!" A familiar voice greeted you. Sick to your stomach, you turned around, saying "goodbye" to Ace before you realized you took the wrong greeting again. You told him good night in the morning and once you even wished him happy birthday at lunch.

As usual, Ace laughed loudly, throwing his head back. Just seeing his freckles in the sunlight was heartbreaking.

"Your so funny" he chuckled and paused, looking from you to Marco's office.

"Are you sick? You look a bit feverish!" He noted, coming nearer and looking you straight in the face, studying you. You were torn between looking away because you were looking like a complete mess and staring at his handsome face. Your eyes decided to look both ways at the same time, giving you a headache. You closed your eyes and prayed that Ace would just leave so you wouldn't embarrass yourself even more.

He didn't leave. Instead, you felt a warm hand on your forehead and his voice near your face "your temperature is a bit high. Did you see Marco?" Ace asked with concern.

"See him just I did" you mumbled(grammatically wrong) and risked a peek at Ace, who looked really worried.

To your horror, he sat down next to you.

"Man, being sick sucks! Just let me know if I can do anything for you." He said, looking at you as you tried to vanish. He shouldn't see how absolutely messy and horrible you looked.

"Nothing" you managed to say.

"Y/n, you always play so tough but it's okay to ask for help. We are a crew after all!" His excitement whenever he talked about the whitebeard pirates was so cute, you had to smile, wishing you could talk to him the same way.

"You know what? Here's something to remind you that you're never alone here!" He said with the broadest, most adorable smile that almost made you melt - and put his hat on your head. It was a bit too wide and slid over your eyes and you quickly adjusted it. It smelled like leather and campfire - Ace's scent.

"Damn!" Ace whistled. "Looks better on you than on me. I guess it's your hat now."

He was so nice, even if it was lie to make you feel better.

"That's not true" you said and had to laugh a bit.

"You know it's a shame we never get to talk to each other like this, you're always so busy! How about you just lie down and rest and I bring you dinner and keep you company later."

"Wha- wha-?" You stutter.

"You heard me, I'll bring you some soup later!" He said as he left, waving.

"You promise me you'll rest!" He added.

Your knees were butter and you just stayed put, trying to catch your breath.

"Wow, just like that you have a date?" Marco commented, having witnessed the whole strange exchange.

"No!" You snapped.

"I thought you wanted this...?" He asked.

"Yes! I mean no, I mean this isn't a date!" With once again solid knees you got up and turned to get back to your post.

"Where do you think you're going?" Marco asked, a brow raised.

"Back to work." You answered.

"I don't think so. Your commanding officer just ordered you to rest in your bed and wait for him." He said with a "checkmate" expression on his face.

You would never disobey a direct order, so you went back to your room, clutching Ace's hat to your chest and prayed he would just forget his promise.

He didn't.

After waiting anxiously for a few hours, you heard him come. You were already so attuned to his steps and looks that you could always detect his presence.

He didn't bother knocking, he just shouted: "Soup coming!" And already opened the door with his foot.

"Hot and healthy! And tasty of course!" He announced with a wide grin, holding a tablet with soup, some bread and a spoon in one hand like an expert waiter. He looked at you - and frowned. You were sure he just noticed what a wreck you were. Instead he said: "you're not wearing comfy pajamas! Don't you know anything about being sick?" He sounded like it was common knowledge.

"I am not feeling that bad..." you explained.

"Marco told me you were feeling really bad! So it must be true." He stated. You felt the panic rise in your throat - what else did Marco tell him?

Your anxiety levels rose once again when he sat down next to you on your bed and put the tablet on your nightstand, you've never been that near to him. Unconsciously, you clutched his hat to your chest like a shield.

"Hats go on your head, silly!" He said playfully and put it back on your head.

"And now open up" he ordered as he lifted a full spoon in front of your face while holding his other hand underneath it to catch any drops.

"I can eat by myself!" You told him a bit more sharply than intended and immediately regretted it. Ace laughed.

"They told me that you have spunk! But orders are orders" he said with a sinister expression. Marco taught him that, too, you bet. But he was right, orders were orders and you opened your mouth. Ace was surprisingly careful.

"You know, you can take a break from time time" he began in a casual tone while feeding you. You barely tasted the soup, being cared for by Ace was taking up all your available attention. He continued talking calmly:

"I see how hard you work each day, that you're always thinking ahead, keeping an eye on things. All I want to say is: being a pirate also means to have fun once in a while. You're pushing yourself so hard, and I bet you're struggling, too. You need to enjoy yourself once in a while. Or let others help you." His concern was so sweet and genuine, it almost made you cry.

"You know you deserve it." He ended and looked at you. "And I'm glad you let me help you. I know sometimes, that's hard. In that regard, you remind me of someone. He also puts others first when they need help, an he does absolutely everything to help everyone, even people that hurt him. And like him, you're very strong" he said and seemed to remember someone dear to him.

"You feeling better now?" He asked, suddenly back in the moment.

You nod.

"Great! Marco said when you've had some soup I should give you this" he said cheerfully and produced a small flask from his satchel.

"It's medicine." He held out the small, unmarked bottle. You opened it and immediately smelled your favourite booze. That dog! You hesitated and looked at the flask.

"He said it's crucial."

"I bet" your voice was so dry you were surprised you didn't spew dust. There was an evil plot against you led by Marco. If you were in a position to do so you would pay it back to him.

"Less scowling more drinking" Ace said, ripping you from your thoughts of dark conspiracies against your love life (or absence thereof). It was just a small flask, you drank it in a few sips, already feeling it going to your head. Maybe you were indeed sick.

Ace sat at your side and was smiling widely, watching you like he expected a present. Remembering Marco's words, this was probably a message that it was time to confess. You were a little afraid that he would take matters into his own hands if you didn't tell Ace here and now.

Everything inside of you was fighting against it. He wouldn't like you back. This would hurt. Everyone would laugh at you for weeks. You tried thinking about it like a band aid, it needed to be ripped off swiftly to avoid long stretched pain. It was also the most dignified way to make it public.

"Thank you for taking care of me, but I am not sick. I just..." your voice is being a coward again, but you press on while Ace is waiting patiently. "I was just really stressed and nervous today because I.." your throat was dry and it felt like your heart was besting sk hard that it was shaking your whole body.

"I love you" you whisper. And add "I'm sorry".

Ace didn't flinch or look surprised.

"I know" he whispered back. "Don't ever be sorry for your feelings. And don't be afraid. You know it pays to be brave sometimes." His low voice was hard to understand over the beating of your heart. You felt his hot breath on your hear as he moved closer and planted a soft kiss on your hair. His hand moved to stroke the side of your face with his fingers.

"I love you, too. And I am proud that you told me first." He said softly while his fingers moved underneath your chin to lift your head up.

"I'm just afraid I'm not a great kisser." He said, chuckling.

"Me neither" you answer.

Still, just feeling his lips on yours for the first time was the greatest thing ever.

________

[ryuwonieebae]

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒏

𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎(원우), Imagines, One-shot

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Pairing : wonwoo x gn!reader

Genre : fluff, romance, humour(?)

Word count : 530

Warning : use of pet names(shorty)(?), mentions of crying, use of curse words, Wonwoo and y/n are besties, confession, mention of Mingyu, reader's shorter than Wonwoo, addrative = attractive+addictive

A/n : This fanfiction is purely based on my imagination only. It's totally fictional. I hope this is good enough to make you guys happy. I'm still learning to write creatively. Thank you for supporting me. It means a lot to me. Thanks to my besties too<3...

Wonwoo and you are bestfriends. Both of you yearn for each other's love in secrecy until that one night, when he confesses to you..

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You whimpered as you tried to fight your tears which were streaming down your face helplessly. But you're efforts in vain as you recalled what you've accomplished.

"Stop crying y/n!"

"You don't understand Wonwoo!"

The tall guy was absolutely perplexed looking at his bestie as he knew that you're not the person to cry easily. He's cracking his mind maybe because you didn't even tell him what had actually happened.

"Can you at least tell me what happened? Gosh!"

Wonwoo grunted as he settled down on the couch in front of you. You got a glimpse of him stirring the hot chocolate hastily waiting for you to give him an answer. He looked so cushy and addractive. Thanks to the woolen sweater you bought for him last Christmas and the round glasses he was wearing that were covered by his raven hair strands. You didn't know for how long you were staring at him, your long term crush until he looked up at you catching you off guard.

"Tell me what happened before I throw you out of the window shorty"

You were not flabbergasted by his audacity to tell that. You were used to it by now.

"I just ended a four year relationship"

"Shit! What? Well anyways I'm so sorry to hear that"

"It's okay it wasn't my relationship"

Wonwoo's jaw dropped. His monolid eyes broadened as they darted towards you who was keeping on a cool face as if you did nothing.

"It was actually Mingyu's idea. Remember he told us that his so called girlfriend was cheating? I couldn't see him breaking down every single second. So yeah"

"Then why were you crying?"

"Do you know what crocodile tears mean? And to make you convinced I made it a bit more dramatic"

Wonwoo let out a disbelief chuckle as he gulped down the hot chocolate which was still warm despite the frosty temperature outside. You huffed as you made your way towards Wonwoo, gliding your hands around his tiny waist, you embraced him.

"It's not fair. My cardigan is too old and I can't tolerate the coldness. Cover me with yours, please"

Despite his now-flushed cheek, Wonwoo wrapped you with his overlarge cardigan. Your mouth curved into a smile when you felt his warmth surrounding you. You loosened up yourself and closed your eyes, allowing yourself into your dreamland.

Wonwoo admired your face, your features. Little did you know, Wonwoo had laid his eyes on you since the first day you guys met. You were wearing a woolen white fluffy cardigan just like his, with a sweet smile spread across your warm face, playing with the snowballs with the appearance of snow fluttering down like magical confetti. Wonwoo got a rush of butterflies as he recollected all of his memories since the first day. His heart thundered in his chest as he timidly pecked your forehead and nose while delicately tracing your features with his finger.

"For years I have yearned for you, for your warmth and your love. And I finally got it. I'll never let you go, my shorty"

"Okay, my half-blinded black cat. I love you too" you murmured under your breath, still feigning to be asleep.

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[meetmyothersouls]

Back to u 4 tonight ?

I have worked my ass off on this so I really hope you guys love it!

Back To You

Jonah Hauer-King x reader

Warnings: memory loss, being drunk, throwing up, not proof read

Chapter 4

Jonah's POV

I sit in the library, leaning against my desk. I'm lost in thought, many of them. One of which is the information Jorge just threw at me. I scoff out loud even though no one is around to hear it. The idea of him taking y/n from me is so disgusting to me, it makes me sick to my stomach. I let him walk away unscathed only because I don't want y/n's new opinion of me to turn into a negative one.

Y/n. Then my thoughts go to her. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with a mixture of sadness, longing and love for her. I want our old life back so badly it hurts. I look around the library. It was her favorite room. One, because of all the books. I used to joke that she loved the books in this room more than me. Two, because of all the times we made love in here. I believe there's not one surface left untouched by-

A soft tap on the door brings me out of my daydream. I stand up straight, no longer leaning on my desk. It's Haven.

"Sorry, I was just looking for y/n."

"She's not with you?" I ask, immediately worried.

"No...I thought she was with you."

"Shit," I mutter under my breath. "Well, she's gotta be somewhere in the house. She doesn't know how to get anywhere else," I say, mostly to calm myself down.

Haven and I make our way down the hall, she's not too familiar with the layout of our house either, so she checks the downstairs amongst the guests Val invited, while I check the other two floors of our house. I wait and save my panic for when I'm totally out of sight. I check her room first, then the nursery; the two rooms I know y/n has seen with her own eyes. When those turn up empty, I scour the rest of the house. By the end of my search, I'm flying down the stairs and practically knock Haven over when I reach the bottom floor.

"No luck?" I ask breathless.

"No, but someone mentioned they saw her heading out with Val. Any thoughts on where they could be?"

I groan out loud, "I have an idea or two."

Y/n's POV

I'm downing my fifth shot, Val, Jorge, and several other people I don't know are chanting my name. I've never been much of a drinker, but according to Val, her and I go out and have drinks all the time. She shows me my favorite shots and drinks that we used to get together all the time and, to my surprise, I really like them. I apparently, lean towards the fruity ones with pineapple and strawberry purees. The shots are very bitter and nasty, but they burn going down which I kind of like.

"Okayyyy," I half yell/half slur. "Okay! I think I'm done."

Jorge and Val are talking, deep in conversation with one another and all of a sudden everyone is way too fucking close to me. The room is spinning and my heart is racing. It's too hot, my clothes are too tight, and I'm in England. I run out of the pub and the cool, now almost evening air hits me.

"I'mjustgonnagoonawalk," I call out to Val as the door to the pub swings shut. I wave to her as I turn the corner. I have no idea where I'm going and it's clear to me in my mind, but it doesn't stop me from walking on. The last...how many days has it been? Has been a whirlwind of emotions and information. I'm married, I was pregnant, I live in England and write for an apparently very prestigious magazine according to Val. For some reason the married thing and the pregnant thing have me laughing. I poke at my stomach. It's a little flabby and the tiniest bit sore, it's evident that something was there. That's when I notice that I'm not even wearing a wedding ring. I immediately feel kind of bad because of it. Jonah really is a nice guy and he clearly cares about me. And...I mean...he's very easy on the eyes. He's got the prettiest slightly curly hair, the bluest eyes I've ever seen. His skin is like this permanent sun kissed color that just occurs naturally. I start to wonder what his hands would feel like on my body and I'm reminded about how he grabbed the small of my back on the stairs today. I giggle out loud and have to grab a streetlamp post to steady myself. I look up and I laugh even harder, because I see him walking right toward me. I point to him and wave. Then he sees me, and he starts running. I'm almost on my knees by the time he gets to me. Jonah grabs me and pulls me against him.

"Thank god," he says breathlessly.

"You are real!" I giggle.

"What?"

"Wot?" I imitate his adorable British accent.

"My god, y/n are you drunk?!"

"Yes, Jonah, it appears thatIam. Val and Jorge introduced me to some verygood drinks."

"Jorge?"

"Mhmm. Jorge." I start to walk and Jonah follows. I feel a bit better about walking now, since he at least knows where we're going.

"He didn't...try anything did he?"

"Pffft."

"Y/n, I'm serious."

"Me too. I wouldn't have let him anyway. You're way hotter than he is." I'm a few steps ahead of him and I start to cross the street.

"Whoa!" Jonah yells as he pulls my wrist. My back is against him now and I'm very aware of how his body feels pressed up against mine. I make an effort to press harder against him, and if he notices he doesn't let on, but I wish he did. "Y/n, you can't just walk into oncoming traffic, Darling."

"Darling?" I look up at him, but he's looking forward, his eyes focused on the crosswalk, but he's got the slightest smile on his face.

Jonah's hand is resting on my lower abdomen, holding me protectively. It gives me a flutter in my stomach that I'd normally try to push away, but don't have the mental capacity to right now. He waits for the cross walk to change and when it does, he moves his hand. That's when I grab it and run across the street. We bump into a couple that's walking our direction and I accidentally knock the woman's coffee out of her hands.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" Jonah calls over his shoulder as I pull him along.

I'm doubled over in laughter as we make it to the sidewalk while Jonah stands next to me, his hands on his hips in disbelief. His mouth hangs open adorably, as he looks at me like he's seeing me for the first time. Then he's laughing. Hard. It's the happiest I've seen him look since I woke up in that hospital room a few weeks ago.

"You're really a piece of work, you know that?" Jonah says.

"Oooooh, is that a park? Come on!" I take off again, dodging couples and dog walkers and people on mopeds and bikes. Then, I'm on grass it's slightly damp and I feel it through my canvas shoes. It reminds me of the parks in New York. In the distance there's a pond with a fountain in the middle and several swans swimming against a sunset. It looks like a painting.

Jonah finally catches up, his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. "Where is everyone?" I ask.

"Huh?"

"There's not a lot of people here."

"Ah, yes. They're all at home, most likely."

I'm so focused on the scenery in front of me I don't even look at Jonah. "But it's so beautiful."

"Yes. You are."

"What?"

Jonah's staring right at me when I whip my head around. He clears his throat and looks off into the distance. "Yes it is. You know it's funny you came here."

"Why's that?"

"Well," Jonah says, as he begins to walk, "this is where you like to come when you need inspiration for writing. Sometimes I'll find you here laid out on a blanket with a book or a laptop. One time, ahh maybe two years ago, I couldn't find you anywhere. You left your cell at home, I checked every bookstore in London and you were nowhere to be found. I was about to call the police, when I drove past the park and saw a tiiiiny figure way out in the middle of the field."

"Was it me?"

"Mhm. It was. You came out here to read and guess what you did?"

"What?"

"You fell asleep!"

"No way!"

"Yes! You had me worried sick," Jonah laughs. He's still looking out into the distance like he can see the memory in the skyline. And suddenly I feel terrible. I feel dizzy and lightheaded and sick to my stomach. Maybe it's all the alcohol or maybe it's because he clearly loves me so much and I can't recall all those feelings myself.

"You okay?" Jonah asks when he finally looks at me.

"Y-yeah, just need to sit down."

Jonah grabs my hand and leads me to one of the park benches. We sit down and my nausea calms down slightly.

"Jonah?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry." I turn to face him and my breath hitches in my throat. His face is close to mine, much like when we were on the staircase today. He's so beautiful up close I just want to touch his face.

"What for?" Jonah whispers.

"For not being what I was before."

"You're still my y/n, memories or not. You're mine and I'm yours."

"But...but how could you still like me the same knowing I don't have the memories you do or..."

"Y/n, you are my wife. I love you. I'm sorry if that overwhelms you. You don't have to say it. I know you don't love me. Why would you? You don't know me. But I've got a month to make you fall in love with me again and I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen. And even if you never love me again," he swallows hard, and I can feel his breath on my lips as he sighs. His face is so close to mine. He licks his lips and I can't help but lean in. I press my lips against his. He kisses me back softly then pulls away, just as I expect him to.

"Y/n, I'm sorry I just...I want you to be in the right state of mind before I kiss you and-"

Jonah doesn't finish his sentence before I'm throwing up on the ground in front of us.

"Your shoes!"

"It's okay, don't worry about them," Jonah says as he's pulling my hair back. I throw up again and again until my vision goes out and I lose everything around me.

I wake up and it's daylight, but it must be early. I'm wearing new clothes, which is just and oversized t-shirt, and my shoes are off. I'm in the same bed that I slept in the night before. The room is filled with that early morning bluish hue. It's making the room feel cozy and soft and cool.

I sit up in the bed, still no memories...other than kissing Jonah, him rejecting me and then throwing up all over his shoes. I groan and run my hand down my face just as the bathroom door opens and Jonah walks out wearing only a towel around his waist, his hair and body are wet from the shower he must have just taken.

And suddenly I'm filled with even more regret than before.

Tags: @danielabetancourth @luna2034 @wandamaximoffbae @twinkledinkleg-blog @anonyymoouussssss @nonsensical-nonsence @paramorelvrr @thedonswife13 @miniemonie2001 @jonahhauer-kingg

✨ If you want to be added to my Jonah taglist or I missed you on the tag list please comment here!✨

[bluecatwriter]

⭐ Step into the Light, which deserves way more attention

Thanks so much for the ask! This is one of my fics I'm most proud of. :)

The fic in question: "Some scenes from Quincey Morris's and Jonathan Harker's complicated relationship, from their time in Varna to the end of the novel, told through their alternating points of view."

Spoilers ahead…

-I know that, like most of my fics, this one was inspired by a Tumblr discussion, but I can't remember who started it or exactly what it was about, other than something about being able to surmise a very interesting relationship between Quincey and Jonathan near the end of the book, culminating with Quincey dying in Jonathan's arms. There was just a lot to explore there, and the idea of doing a back-and-forth perspective switch came to mind.

-Figuring out which beats of the story would be from which perspective was a little tricky; this was one of the few fics where I created a rough outline, and some of the perspectives got shuffled one to the other in order to keep them alternating.

-I usually write in third person, but the idea of using first/second person, with Quincey and Jonathan referring to each other as "you" in their respective scenes, got stuck in my head. It gave the story such an interesting intimacy to it, showing how these events are causing their worlds to sort of revolve around each other. To lend a greater sense of immediacy, I made it present tense instead of my usual past tense.

-Writing Jonathan's scenes came fairly naturally, since I've written a lot from his perspective (albeit in third person) and my third-person voice for him isn't that different from his first-person speaking voice. 

-Quincey's scenes were much more of a challenge; I ended up drafting them in my "normal" narrative voice and then went back later to rewrite nearly every sentence, taking into consideration his speaking patterns. Although I don't know anyone from Texas very well, I drew a lot from my extended family who live in the South, trying to capture the vivid phrasing and storytelling sensibility that goes into a lot of their speech. 

-I always have a hard time coming up with titles (which is why half my fics are named things like "Two Men Talking" LOL). But I was pleased with the title from this one, alluding to the lines: "I feel you staring at us like a coyote outside the light of a campfire ring…I wish I could grab your hand the way you grabbed mine just days ago. Draw you into this ring of light, hold your hand till you know you're safe."

-I decided that I wasn't going to explicitly say whose perspective we were in during any given scene, relying on the line breaks and the different in dialect to get it across. I think I succeeded.

-My preferred headcanon of Jonathan during this time is actually a lot less bitter and standoffish, but it was interesting to explore this version of him in this fic. He's running on pure animal instinct at this point, and Quincey is (wisely) treating him as such.

-I got a bit obsessed with the dynamic of Quincey being fully aware that Jonathan would kill him if he ever tried to stake vampire Mina— and him being cool with that. They've each made their promises, and it's Quincey's job to make sure that this clash never has to happen (but to accept the consequences if it does).

-I had to throw in a lil Quincey pining over Jonathan (and vice versa) because I am a big sucker for Yeehawrker. :D

-I am still very happy with the lines, "You'd look good spattered in the blood of a fresh kill. You'd still look good, even if the blood was mine." (Foreshadowing babey)

-Had to let Jonathan have a good cry! I thought this was an important moment, too, because Jonathan being able to not only break down in front of Quincey, but accept his comfort, was a big turning point for the two of them. Live in the moment, Jonno. You got this.

-Originally Quincey's death scene was from Jonathan's perspective, which makes more sense than writing from a guy who's dead, but I actually really like that my back-and-forth formula ended with Quincey's view of his own death; I think it gives the scene an eerie, almost dreamlike feel, and nicely bookends the whole fic through Quincey's eyes. (Present tense to the rescue, too.)

-I decided to draw out Quincey's monologue a bit more, and give Jonathan a couple words, as well as tying back in the imagery of Jonathan covered in Quincey's blood. And of course, we gotta have the final image of Jonathan (metaphorically stepping) into the light, smiling in the light of the sunset. It was a nice image to end with.

I'm enjoying these Director's Commentaries a bit too much! ;) Thanks again for asking!

(Ask game here)

[yanderes-galore]

Dedicating this to Orderly Anon because they love this character a lot-

@orderly-anon *gifts you the funky little guy*

I hope I did well on this!

I wanted to make this more intense but wasn't sure how. I'd love to take advice on how to write him as a yandere better!

Yandere! Mituna Captor Concept ♊️

Pairing: Matesprit ❤️

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Unintentional verbal abuse, Stalking, Jealousy, Clingy behavior, Mentioned brain damage (Canon to Mituna), Reckless/Self-destructive behavior, Dubious relationship, Slight delusional behavior, Brief kidnapping mention.

Mituna can be a problematic yandere.

He doesn't mean to half the time, it just happens due to what he's been through.

Mituna is primarily problematic because of his mood swaps.

He has a clumsy nature, which is why he wears his helmet, which means he wouldn't be successful about all of his yandere plans.

Mituna is a yandere who's very obsessed with his Matesprit.

He loves what they do and likes to follow them around.

He may even be a bit clingy with his Matesprit, not necessarily physically but in terms of always being there.

He's just happy to be around you even if his personality makes him... volatile at times.

Honestly, if Mituna hurt you in anyway it's purely by accident and he apologizes with many "I'm Sorry's" afterwards.

In canon, Mituna has brain damage due to an event we don't know.

This is what causes his erratic behavior.

There's moments he's extremely sweet and docile around you...

Then others where he's cussing and using the most vile language.

I also imagine he has tantrums often.

Like if he's jealous maybe? He plans on making it everyone's problem.

When you first meet Mituna there's a good chance he falls for you first.

(Probably literally if we're being honest-)

He takes time to warm up to you with physical affection but is all about you once he loves you.

He's probably be the one to ask for Matespritship, or if you did then he's over the moon.

Mituna tries his best to be the sweetest around you.

Honestly, when he's docile he can be really nice and excited around you.

He's just... happy with what you do and likes you around him.

Your presence keeps him docile most of the time but some conversations make him throw a fit.

His favorite number is two so maybe that's another reason he never leaves your side.

He likes the two of you together.

Mituna would freak out from jealousy the most.

If he saw you around someone else, (Hopefully not Cronus), he flips out and runs to your side.

He probably has "barking Chihuahua" moments.

I don't know how else to describe him flipping out on whoever is with you.

Mituna likes to be the center of your attention as your Matesprit.

Although you can scold him, which makes him back off since he likes to impress you-

Speaking of which! He isn't the best with it but he will do anything to impress and earn your affection.

I can imagine he frequently fails with impressing you... and being a yandere.

He's clumsy, he'd probably fail at killing someone and also fail at kidnapping at least once.

He constantly fails when trying to do cool stunts for you and is almost always falling on his face.

Although he manages to hear some sort of reaction from you and offers to try again for you.

Mituna is volatile and hard to deal with at times but he manages to calm down if you are around.

He gets so excited at the idea of his Matesprit.

You're one of the only people he allows to touch him.

The other being Latula, his previous Matesprit.

He's calm yet a bit twitchy in your arms, often nuzzling into with little excited noises.

Mituna acts like a kid at times despite his age.

It's most likely due to traumatic events but he still acts like an excited child when he sees you.

He gets so upset when others accuse him or you of not loving each other.

Sure, he may be a bit delusional with his feelings, but he knows you two must love each other!

He loves you... you must love him!

He often runs up to you with child-like happiness and would be a yandere hopelessly in love with you most of the time.

When he isn't yelling obscenities at random.

Mituna could probably harm others, intentionally or not.

Kill? Not too sure, but he'd probably hurt people over you.

He can go feral at times.

Again, if he'd do kidnapping he'd struggle at first before he got it right.

Even then he typically doesn't think of the idea.

For the most part he likes to follow you around excitedly and never leave your side.

Others will most likely stay away from you due how volatile he is around others.

For the most part, Mituna loves his Matesprit very much and likes to be part of everything you do, even if he gets himself hurt in the process... as long as it's for you!

But there is times he'll be volatile and violent to keep you to himself, be it on purpose or not. He simply can't control it.

[gerhardtz]

When I was rewatching Season 2 I had your “emotional constipation” comment in mind and I noticed Hanzee never really expresses his emotions physically or through words, only subtlely, but when he finally does both when Peggy is going to cut his hair (confessing he’s tired and looking like he’s actually relaxing when Peggy is about to make the cut), he’s betrayed and (literally) stabbed in the back (very subtle scene lol). So that probably made his bottling up soooo much worse. I wanted to ask how to even try and work through that hard shell on a guy like Hanzee? Or maybe an example of how you’re doing that with Rye, working through the bottled up emotions, if you have a more solid idea with him. I was also thinking about the first ask I sent and how you said that how being in love with a guy probably wouldn’t surprise Hanzee the most. I was wondering, what would surprise him then? (Sorry if it was just an offhand comment, sometimes I read too much into stuff lol) (Oh jeez, big wall of text lol sorry!)

Omg hi again! It always makes me really happy to recieve these asks so there's absolutely no need to apologise for the wall of text!

I've been mulling this over all day, thinking of how I would go about trying to write this kind of thing, and I gotta admit you have me stumped! I feel like it really depends a lot on the OC, and who they are as a person. Are they an open book -- a sort of foil to Hanzee -- or are they equally as emotionally constipated and in need of healing? The former may struggle to peel back the hard shell for a while, as I feel Hanzee may be suspicious of someone so ernest and eager to befriend him, but then again if they're BOTH hiding behind a wall, we've got two layers of bricks to tear down.

That's kind of a non-answer, I apologise! I haven't done a huuuge amount of writing for Hanzee, purely because we know so little about him! I truly wish we had more of the Season 2 scripts available to the public, as a fun thing about Noah Hawley's screenwriting (at least in the production pinks I've read) is that we really get to see into the minds of the characters in a way I've never seen in a screenplay before. Though it's odd, in the one script we do have with Hanzee in it (S2E8 - Loplop), we don't really get that! Even in the scene you mentioned, we don't get to see his inner thoughts, rather viewing it through Peggy's eyes instead.

I think it's very interesting how Hanzee's almost unknowable inner self is even true to the script itself, which seems to be deliberately written in a way that doesn't let us see inside his head. I obviously can't speak for the rest of the scripts or the revisions past this relatively early one, but it's something cool to note. I know that doesn't help answer your question AT ALL, but it was something I've been thinking about for a while and wanted to throw out there (:

As for an example of how I'm doing that with Rye... that's kind of complicated. To avoid spoiling too much if you're reading my fic, it takes a very long time -- and even then, there are still a lot of internal conflicts which never end up getting resolved in the fic. I also feel like due to certain plot points I won't mention, their situations unfortunately probably aren't comparable, but who knows! I don't know really anything about your story (and I would absolutely love to, if you'd like to share! My DMs are always open if you want to chat about stuff and maybe even play toys with our OCs hehe) so maybe I'm wrong :P

The point about Hanzee not being surprised about being in love with a man was probably worded poorly when I wrote my initial answer half-asleep LMAO. I don't mean to say that he wouldn't be surprised at all -- he definitely would! I feel like that kind of revelation comes as a surprise to a lot of people nowadays so it would have been even more of a shocker back then; I mean that the fact that he's managed to fall in love at all would be even more shocking to him. I feel like having had such an insular and isolated life, he may never considered a relationship at all/not been interested in one. OR, the sadder, slightly less headcanon-y option: perhaps he eventually resigned himself to thinking he'd never find love because the Gerhardts had isolated him for fear of him realising he can do better. How this would sway his reaction is a whole other question that I'm honestly not sure how to answer! Probably a lot of thinking and not a lot of speaking :P

I hope this helped at least a little bit! Again, feel free to let me know if there's anything that wasn't clear, or even DM me if you wanna talk OCs :3c

[revui]

levi's vagueposting. i'm genuinely kind of sick of the idea that a character who does bad things HAS to be suitably punished or reprimanded by the narrative itself or other characters within it because 1) sometimes half the point of a story is "guy does bad things and gets away with it" because it's something that happens irl and a great base for a tragedy, and 2) we all know that portrayal does not equal endorsement and you have to understand by extension that an author not punishing a character ALSO doesn't equal endorsement

on a certain post that i won't direct anyone to, i saw a bunch of people agreeing and fully understanding that having a character do bad things doesn't mean the author thinks those things are okay. and then a majority of those same people immediately followed it up with "but the bad character HAS to be punished or else it's bad writing"

i'm paraphrasing but not misrepresenting, that is the exact idea i saw repeated several times, and it's pissing me off. i fully understand when punishment can be a good thing. karmic justice is cathartic when it's earned. watching a villain lose everything at the end of a story and throw an evil tantrum is satisfying, especially when they're usually very collected. but in some cases, the lack of external punishment is a feature, not a flaw.

and i can get why some people dont like it. it's not satisfying to everyone to spend a story waiting for a character to get bit in the ass by consequences or have a secondary character pipe up to give a "the reason you suck" speech or whatever. but unless the writer was promising a downfall that never came, it was probably written that way on purpose. a writer can be fully aware of how and why their character is shitty and still deliver no external repercussions for it.

it's not everyone's jam. it's not my jam either, most of the time. i like watching fictional assholes get what's coming to them. but framing "something i don't like" as "a flaw within the text" would be erroneous on my part.

it's very hard to write morally gray characters if you're unwilling to swallow the fact that not all bad deeds will be punished or even really called out by anyone. maybe the character themself isn't aware that what they just did is shitty. if you think the only ending for a character who has done bad things is to make them face karma, it becomes easier to write a one-dimensional character who you set up just to knock down. you have to be comfortable getting in the mind of people who you think of as truly reprehensible if you want to portray them with any depth.

although i do also get the appeal of pure evil villains who are just... set up to get knocked down. your mileage may vary, the major point of this unfocused rant is that writing gray morality can be uncomfortable and fiction isn't inherently here to teach moral lessons, sometimes it's just about some kinda shitty people. something like that.

[knightshade-ships]

hhhhh rambling in the tags

[moodymisty]

I just wanna say thank you for not making you Crosshair 110% sex driven all the time. I throughly enjoy the facets where it’s pure sass and snark. Truly is a breath of fresh air.

Would you be willing to write a TBB HC of what it would be like to essentially have a female Crosshair join the group (and how everyone is caught in the crossfire of them trying to one up each other)?

Awww I'm so glad you like how I write him! I know well that my characterization of him won't be as popular (no shade people have different tastes!) But I just wanted to write what I like and maybe someone out there would like my little niche. I know that Crosshair stans are perpetually down bad which I mean, same, but I also like scene-building and snarky chatter. Send help lmao

Anyhoo, here you go hun I had a good amount of fun with this

🖤 Crosshair is one of those guys that has to be privy to everything. So when he hears that -at least for the time being- they'll be joined by another, he is on it. Whether you’re a civilian, soldier or bounty hunter, it all sends him into the same fit at the idea of 'unwelcome' company.

Crosshair barely gets along with his brothers, it would be wishful thinking that he'd get along some random person who is being shoved with them while they're stuck on some backwater planet. Let alone when he finds out that your speciality is the same as his.

🖤 But at first, it’s actually Hunter who attempts to refuse you staying on the Marauder. He fully insists that it’s because ‘We don't have a leash short enough to keep him from making the Marauder more miserable than it already is, without another sniper on board.’ But he can’t exactly refuse orders coming from above him, and so he ends up having to let you aboard anyways.

The second you make it up the gangplank and inside you see him; Leaning against the wall he spots your rifle case and makes a comment about it being 'to big for you'. And in that moment you just know this is going to be a battle, giving him a sugar coated sneer before moving right past.

Even if Hunter admonishes him and attempts to get him to play nice; Crosshair is irked with you already.

🖤 He attempts the usual; Aloof and standoffish only throwing out thinly veiled insults. It all fails miserably, because not only does it bounce off, you come back with the same energy just as hard. You're normally pretty quiet while on missions, but if Crosshair decides to mutter some sort of comment about nat-borns, you're quick to fire right back.

'Great,' Hunter thinks; Out of all the people they could've been stuck with, they're stuck with the one who is constantly baiting Crosshair and brewing a storm between the both of you.

You're more than a great sniper; If Crosshair hadn't quite literally been bred for it, they wouldn't be surprised if you could beat him as you already gave him a run for his money to begin with.

They all just wish you'll stop staring at each other like that, either one of you waiting for who's going to say something first. All of the batch swears he can feel the arcing sparks between both snipers.

🖤 I love to think that after awhile however it sort of becomes more so a silly little ritual to smack talk or be snide to one another than fighting; To the point that you notice Crosshair almost seems to pout if you don’t take his bait.

It doesn't have as much venom as it did when you first met, but it doesn't mean either of you lost that bite. That's half the fun after all.

🖤 But how does the rest of the batch react to it? After all, you are stuck in tight confines with them all quite often. Not really much can happen on the Marauder that the rest aren't privy to, and that includes bickering.

Echo finds it amusing when someone, particularly you, manages to get the other to shut their trap. The time you snapped at Crosshair you weren’t in the mood for the usual dick whipping contest today he had to bit his cheek to hold back a guffaw. It's almost endearing that Crosshair met his match, even if it results in more arguing. At least it isn't directed at him anymore.

Wrecker also finds it entertaining, but certain innuendos tend to go over his head. He most so enjoys when things get competitive, even if Hunter or Echo tend to shut things down before the rifles are pulled out. But still whenever skill is directly mentioned, Wrecker is the first one to one to try and bring up a good old fashioned shoot off.

Tech tends to just ignore it, but sometimes you can get a smile out of him if you make some sort of clever joke or innuendo. He also is grateful if one of you manages to shut up the other- who he doesn't particularly care, so he can finally work in peace.

Hunter is in abject misery at first, but eventually just accepts it as part of the new energy in the Marauder now. No battles were won by micromanaging, at least not ones he remembers. But… maybe please keep valuable supplies out of your little spats. He feels the headache brewing already.

🖤And just as a little bonus: As for romance if you ever decide to go that route? Crosshair isn’t above using dirty tricks like subtle hints over comms or a graze of his hand over your hip while you're aiming. Then again, you play the same tricks right back. It's so obvious, but everyone just kind of lets you believe you're being subtle.

But That fiery sense of snark and competition always stays, to the point that if any of the batch see you raising your eyebrows and letting out a 'hmm' before looking to the other, they all groan at the battle that's inevitably coming.

[annabellenaughtyprincessrose]

My Brothers, The Lovers ❤ (Repost: Classic fanfic)

My Brothers, The Lovers *Revised version*

By Annabelle Naughty Princess Rose

Summary:I wouldn't trade my Brothers for anything in the world. SAM/DEAN/OFC. Wincest!

Rated: MA (18+)

Author notes: Hey guys! Well, I have  another classic fic of mine to share. This was a little idea I had while I wrote this story, an OFC sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, and thier growing forbidden bond. So, this is a Wincest story.

This story was recently published on my Fanfiction.net, as well as on live journal, Wattpad, and WordPress page. There may be some little changes I made because the story had bad typos. (Don't judge me.)

Please note: That this story contains Wincest. If you are uncomfortable with this nature, please DO NOT read!

Lastly, I don't own any characters. The story plot was my idea. ;)

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

(Reader's POV:)

I love my brothers. They are caring. They are protective. When you're feeling down, they turn your frown upside down. If it was over a guy, they would stop at nothing to nail his ass to a wall. Any person, whether boy or girl is lucky to have them.

I wouldn't trade my brothers for anything in the world. They are a godsend. Sam and Dean: my knights in shinning amour.

We been through a lot together. Since our father died, it has been hell on earth...literally!

But no matter, we had stuck it through till the end and now we could live our lives...

A lot has happened since we saved the world from certain doom. We had one hard challenge: to learn how to live normal lives. I mean, I know it sounds stupid to do one simple thing, but come on, In our eyes, we are hunters. We were born as hunters. I don't think the three of us couldn't shake the fact that life was over. It was the only thing we knew.

But still, we somehow mange to cope with it. We settled in Kansas with the help of our father's will. We brought a house pretty much like the one you see on those commercials with the white picket fence.

It was close to the University Sam was planning to attend to resume his studies as a attorney and close to Lisa, Dean's one last stand and his possible legitimate lovechild Ben. I, myself was planning to go to a local Community College. At first, I didn't really wanted to go to school, but Sam insisted that it was serve me well later in life.

Yeah, life was perfect... at least for the half of that year. The urge of the life of freedom were still brewing inside us. We miss the life with no worries, of bills, school, kids...

So we sold the house hop into the impala and left.

About three months after, I noticed that our bond was changing. I noticed Dean would at times, would make quick glances out from the corner of my eye. I really didn't pay to much attention to it at first because I thought it was something that brothers normally do.

But now I found at night when I take turns laying next to him or Sam, at times I could have swore I felt his eyes staring down at me while I sleep.

Sam on the other hand had a very different approach. There would be times whenever me and him are alone, he wouldn't normally act like your typical big brother. He would act as though like a boyfriend. When me and him are alone, He would be a lot closer than usual. At times when I'm in the shower, I could have swore that I heard him breathing on the other side of the curtain not to mention to very tall figure I see just standing mere inches.

I guess I'm just imagination things. That's it's all in my head. Or maybe, I have a bad case of thinking dirty. Can I help it? I am not going to lie. My brothers are absolutely drop-dead gorgeous! They could get the princess of Cambridge a heat attack! I found that comment to be quite interesting! I begin to think the times when the three of us would be out, like geoceries shopping, bars,at the park. I have women rolling their eyes, whispering words about me, thinking that I was a whore for my brothers...

Nothing could prepare me for what happened two weeks later...

I remember that day as if it was yesterday. I was sitting on the sidewalk in front of a sleazy hotel. I was writing in my journal at the same time sneaking glances at Dean as he was wiping down the impala. The way he smiles as he glazes down at his baby makes me happy but a tad jealous...but he assure me that I was his main baby.

I could hear the faint sound of water coming from the bathroom. Sam,was inside, washing his god build form in the shower.

Turning my head, I couldn't help but grin as I saw a narrow view of his ass. Even after all these years, Sam still had a nasty habit about leaving the shower curtain open.

"Hey," Dean replies getting my attention. I turn my head towards him trying to look innocent."What are you smirking at?" He asks.

At his question, I raised my eyebrows giving him a side smile.

"Nothing. just a thought I was thinking." I looked up at him and I could tell he wasn't buying it. That's the thing I love about Dean, he has the sense to know whether something was troubling me or Sam...and he would stop at nothing to find out.

"About? I curious," He replies in a singing tone making me laugh.

"It's personal. My thoughts only," I winked. Finally he give up the debate and returns to his duty wiping down his impala.

Later that night, we decided to pay a visit at local bar. That day was the worst night of my life.

To be from what seemed, the only sibling with two very handsome attractive brothers was a bitch!

From the second we walk in, there were woman, whether their were in a relationship,married, or even betrayal their same-sex partner, had cornered us.

One was a blonde, who I can tell had the personality of stupid trying to seduce Dean with her luscious but totally fake breasts. While a brunette who was staring Sam down and was the bartender of the bar didn't give a damn if she had other people waiting to be served. It disgust me how women could be so depraved for a man.

I wanted to get out of there. The room felt as through it was trying to suffocate me. It hurt my heart to see I was the only one left out. To keep myself from bursting into tears, I did just that but my attempt to leave was cut short by a hand on by wrists.

Turning my head, I came face to face to a man who was pure hillbilly. He had messy hair,oily jumper and I remember that when I was at the bar, I would turn my head and he would smile at me.

"Where do you think you're going, darling?" The man asked. I can tell that he was drunk and had the slightest clue as what he was doing.

"Going home," I replied. "And I appreciated if you remove your hand from my wrist." I tried to Jerk him away but it was a useless attempt.

"I don't think so darling, You're looking very pretty there's no need for an angel face like you to scurry away..."He tried to pull me along, but I stood my ground. Then he does the unthinkable, He roughly pulls me against him loosing his balance completely falling on one of the now broken tables.

Everyone turned their heads Including Sam and Dean who immediately lest from their social gathering to my aid.

"Hey Asshole!"Dean replies as he and Sam walked over to the scene. "What are you doing with my sister?!" He began to throw insults at the poor man, while ignoring Sam's attempt to help me up, I stood up on my feet.

"I'm fine," I replied. "The fat ass broke my fall."

"Fat ass?" The man shouted. "Who are you calling a fat ass you bitch!"

"Hey!" Dean shouted. reaching down to jerk the man up by his collar. "Don't fucking talk to my sister like that!"

"What happened?" Sam asked, taking my hand and I jerked it away.

"Oh! Like you care! he was trying to rape me!" I shouted. "Forget it! I'm getting the fuck out of here!" The last thing I remember was Dean calling that fat bastard "a Son of a Bitch" before throwing punches and Sam trying to calm him down.

At the Hotel, I stood fully nude in the shoulder letting the warm water abuse my body. I was just so relieved that I got out of there.

So what I acted like a ass. So what if I act like a jealous girlfriend. I'm not going to be held responsive. I could hear the door to the hotel room opening following the distant voices between the two.

Dean was shouted some sentence that were inseparable and Sam was speaking in a mild tone. I covered my ears, to try to block out the conversation, along with the pounding of the door, but it a useless. Finally, I finished my shower, wrapped myself in a towel, and took a deep breath. I made my way out of the bathroom with my head down before glazing at the faces of my older brothers.

Sam, who now has a sad look on his face. His green eyes sparking with concern. Whilst Dean has a pissed off expression, trying his best to remain calm. There were no words that were unable to fall out of mouth. I just walked passed them and climb into to very large king side bed we shared with saying a unexpectedly surprising, I suddenly began to cry my ear out.

Almost immediately, Sam and Dean's expressions changed. If they were confused, I could say the same thing. The reason why I was crying, I couldn't understand. I was always the second tough one when it comes from intense situations, I guess with everything that we had been through together finally had took a toll on me. I see with my watery eyes Sam turned towards Dean and he nodded his head. without hesitation, they began to walk towards me.

Dean lay on my left, Sam lay on my right. They huddled up against me trying to console me. Sam was wiping away from my tears, while Dean began to rub small circles down my back.

This warm fuzzy feeling began to grow inside me. I gaze into Sam's eyes and I can see the easiness and calm in his face. Then I did the unthinkable. I reached my hand and caress his cheek and I leaned in a kiss him passionately on the lips.

There was no feeling I can't describe other than, I felt as through I explode into a million pieces. What was more shocking is that Sam didn't pull away. He gave in and began to response with my advances. Dean was anxious to show his passion. I could feel his lips on my neck, his hands trailed down to my breast giving them a firm squeeze.

I moaned in response breaking my lips with Sam replacing them with his. I tried to show my love for the both of them. Wanting to give them all of me...

Everything happen in a flash. the removing of clothes. The hot soft lips on my heated skin. The feeling of being completely filled. Like flipping a page in a book. Like riding the biggest wave and suddenly ,you're caught in the tide.I felt so much pleasure.

It felt like Heaven. It was heaven...

That was last night...

And here we are...

Today is a new day. I stare at the ceiling with a smile on my face as I felt warm naked bodies sleeping silently against me...

Nude Dean on my left...

Nude Sam on my right.

Right now, I can't say that God is pleased. Not with the events that had happened. Now, When I said I love my brothers...I love them more than just a sibling nature. I love them, I'm madly in love with them! When I think of their eyes and their smiling faces, it makes my body want to explode in fireworks.I don't care what people would say. I don't care if our father would turn over in his grave, I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world! it always will be the three of us forever...

Sam and Dean,

My brothers, the lovers.

The End.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Your place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, threats, non-con.

Words: 1510.

Summary: You suffer in the arms of America's golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.

P.S. I just realized most of my smut fics are about Bucky, so I decided to write one with Steve instead. Btw, all characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you'll enjoy!

______________

"Damn girl, you better put some makeup." Someone's loud voice behind your back made you flinch. "Y'know, you can still do something about that face."

You heard a burst of laughter and bit your lips. It had always been a part of your daily routine for several years once you moved to New York and went to Abraham Lincoln High School. God, you regretted it with all your heart.

"Come on, Sam. Give her some credit." You didn't even need to turn your head to know who was speaking. "She's the natural beauty, isn't she?"

You spun on your heels, watching harshly the group of guys leaning against the wall and smirking at you, all beefy, muscular and tall. The biggest assholes in whole Brooklyn; players of Howling Commandos, your school's basketball team; the ones most of the girls dreamed about and to whom they sent love letters every goddamn week, as the guys claimed. They had been your absolute nightmare since you got transferred to this place.

You glanced at Steve Rogers, America's golden boy, incredibly handsome with those blonde hair and blue eyes; the picture-perfect image of a diligent, polite student; the one whose face they put on promotional posters every year. You knew better than anyone else who was hiding behind this facade of "just a kid from Brooklyn".

"What, are you moody after yesterday's game?" You smirked, knowing very well that they had just lost against Hydra, the team Steve always hated with all his soul. "Go fuck youself and calm down, dear. Or are your buddies gonna lend you a hand, maybe?"

The smile fell from his face as the guy frowned, his bright blue eyes burning a hole in your figure. You guessed he really missed those days when you just listened quietly while he and his friends kept insulting you, but these days were long gone. You grew some teeth by the end of your final year.

"Listen, you little..." Bucky hissed, but Steve raised his hand and made him fall silent as you grinned, clenching your lunchbox in your hands.

Oh, he was mad. You knew well how much Rogers detested swear words, especially if they were coming from a woman's mouth.

"Watch your language, girl," his voice was unusually hoarse, his eyes watching you intensely, "or I'll have to teach you how to speak to a man myself."

"I'd like to see that." You giggled nervously, relieved there were enough students passing by to prevent Steve from doing anything stupid. "But if you want to complain to Mr. Banner to give me a detention, please feel free, dear."

You turned around with a silly smile on your face, waiting for him and his friends to give you some more empty threats, but you heard nothing at all as you kept walking. Suddenly feeling victorious and somewhat invincible, you laughed to youself, hurrying away. Did you just make those assholes silent, gasping for words at your audacity? Did it truly shut their goddamn mouths? God, it was unbelievable. Well, maybe going against Steve Rogers wasn't wise, but you couldn't pretend you were okay with that attitude of his after all those years of pure humiliation. You did nothing but protected yourself, right? Besides, he could hardly do anything since you were never alone at school, and after finishing your classes you were lucky to be driven home by your dad who worked close.

But maybe buying a mace wasn't a bad idea.

You laughed at yourself, finally arriving at the cafeteria and landing on one of the seats with a loud sigh. You knew Steve and his friends wouldn't do anything - their college admission was at stake, and you'd be happy to provide police with all the details if anything were to happen to you. Surely, they wouldn't risk it for just a few words you exchanged with them this morning.

_________________

Shit, you were so late for your PE class! Everyone was already at the field while you ran to the locker room, gasping for air. You didn't need Maximoff to yell at you the third time this month.

You threw your bag to the floor once you spotted your locker and jumped to it, abandoning your skirt in a matter of seconds and desperately trying to get your shorts out. You didn't care much about your surroundings as no one else was inside the locker room. Class had already started 10 minutes ago.

You didn't think anyone could be waiting for you here on purpose.

Before your heard the lock snap, somebody slammed your body into the locker, pressing you to its cool metal door so hard you lost your ability to move. Frightened to death, you were ready to scream, but someone's hand clamped over your mouth, muffling the sound. God, what was happening? Who was that? Why didn't you see anyone?

"Shhh, it's okay." You knew this voice too well. "You can keep screaming, but there's no one around, you know that."

You grunted against his hand, trying your best to throw the huge guy off you but achieving little: Steve was a bull of a man. His enormously big body leaned so close to yours that you could feel his every fucking muscle with his chest pressed to your back. His other hand gripped your throat tighter to make you stop squirming.

You needed to keep your mouth shut today instead of provoking him.

"Yeah, like that." Steve shushed you in a mockingly gentle tone, lifting his hand from your mouth and nuzzling against your ear, inhaling your scent. "I like when you're quiet."

"What the fuck are you doing, Rogers?" You asked him furiosly, pretending you weren't frightened to death. "Have you lost your head?"

"Language." His low gutteral growl made you shiver as you felt his palm on your neck moving.

Clenching your teeth, you tried pushing him away once more, but instead you just grinded against his heated body and realized he was... aroused, the bulge in his pants obvious as you moved your ass. God, no. No, no, no! You were at the edge of going into hysterics, shaking and pushing and crying with his hand on your mouth again. It was hard to breath with so little space Steve gave you, his unbearably hot body covering yours.

"What happened, dear? Cat got your tongue?" You were disgusted at his sweet loving tone. "Aw, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. You wanted me to teach you how to speak to a man, remember?"

His grip on you was madly strong - you winced in pain once Steve had squeezed the cheek of your ass with his huge calloused palm, your head pressed into the cool metal locker as he hovered above you. When he started kissing your neck, you bit your tongue in utter despair. He was fucking sick. Deranged. He was ready to do this over some little quarrel when the only thing you actually did was responding to his bullying.

Your mind was hazy as you started losing your strength after good five-minute struggle. Rogers didn't relent in his efforts to keep you pinned and completely defenseless.

"This is rape, Steve." You whispered, exhausted and anxious. "Do you understand?"

"Come on, what are you saying?"

His hand travelled down to your hips as he caressed them gently and moved to tug your panties down your legs.

"You're so wet for me, dear. How can you call it rape?" You shut your eyes when Steve touched you down there, forcing you to spread your legs and settling in against the craddle of your thighs. As he moved the elastic of your black panties, his fingers were playing with your folds, and you realized with shame he was right as he spread a bit of your wetness on your skin playfully. "Admit it, you have a thing for bullies."

"No, I d..."

Before you could bark at him he forced you to turn your head and kissed you hungrily, pushing his tongue in your half-opened mouth. You squirmed, grasping his hand, yet his arm that he used to hold your chin before swept yours away as he pushed you against the locker even harder. You could feel his erected cock through the fabric of his school pants.

Making a soft noise at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against yours, you heard Rogers groaning, his chest heaved. If you could pull away, a shudder would rush down your spine at the sight of his face. Instead of a school bully there was a predator waiting to tear his prey apart.

"Stop, please..." You panted heavily once he finished kissing you, his fingers still caressing your womanhood, your juices leaking down your thighs. "Why me? What have I done? You have hundreds of girls who want to throw themselves at you."

He smiled and rested his sweating forehead against yours, teasing your entrance.

"You see, it's easy. You get off on being bullied, and I get off on bullying you." Steve started rubbing little circles on your engorged clit, admiring your blushing cheeks. "We can have so much fun together if you just stop resisting me and take your place."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki ​ @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​ @lovelydarkdaydream

[angelofthequeers]

How is Zoe's comic racist? (sorry don't mean to question you, genuinely curious) Also, I admit I was also sucked into the salt fic whirlpool, but quickly left after I realized how toxic it was being. Could you also elaborate on GalahadWilder, if it isn't too uncomfortable for you? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, or ask uncomfortable questions.

I can’t point out everything off the top of my head but the racism (along with everything else but that’s not the focus) is a large part of what made me throw my hands up and write this. And I won’t be answering any more asks about any of this because I just want to get it out there so people know (because of how many people genuinely don’t see it) and then go back to trying to forget that this shit ever existed, rather than dragging out some new fandom drama. Also keep in mind that while I’m West Asian/Arab, I’m also white-passing so if I get anything wrong, I appreciate call-outs. (Also I finally got my laptop charger today so I can snip my posts again 😭)

Her treatment of Max in ‘Gamer’.

It’s not unique to her; it’s a very common salter thing to utterly tear into Max for being a “sexist jerk” and daring to underestimate princess Marinette because she’s a girl. Never mind that they canonically aren’t close friends because of Chloé’s bullying, so Max probably had no idea that Marinette’s liked video games all this time, where Adrien is the new boy so it’s just one more thing to learn about him.

It’s especially heinous compared to how the other classmates are treated far more leniently for their own mistakes - they still get salted on but Max, aka the Black boy, always seems to get singled out and held to higher standards. Just look at ‘Chameleon’ and how the other classmates are mildly to moderately attacked by salters but Max gets utterly ripped to shreds because he “should know better”. (Never mind that just because he’s smart doesn’t mean he’s good at human interaction. They just want to attack him).

It also angers me because people like Nathaniel and Ivan are absolved of what they do as akumas (like kidnapping others and literally forcing someone to go on a date with them) because they couldn’t help it, yet Max is literally held responsible for what he did when akumatised (because he dared to go after Princess Marinette) and even for daring to get akumatised in the first place. Both these things just make him a sore loser, apparently.

So SL ‘Gamer’ was the final straw for me, especially with how she characterised Max as a smug arsehole, and it made me so angry that I just exploded to my friends, but I didn’t know how to directly call it out without looking like a petty bitch.

Here’s a post I made about salters and ‘Gamer’ if you’re interested in a more coherent and in-depth thing about it.

Alya’s treatment throughout the whole thing.

In canon, she’s an enthusiastic and passionate girl who sometimes gets carried away and goes too far and who idolises Ladybug because Ladybug stands against evil. Here? She’s treated as the butt of the joke for being so starry-eyed over superheroes that she idolises Scarlet Lady while Marinette mocks her behind her back. Never mind her iconic line of “all that is needed for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing” and this is why she loves Majestia in the first place. Never mind that she loves Ladybug because Ladybug is kind and passionate and strong and creative. Canon Alya wouldn’t want a bar of Scarlet Lady, who just sits around complaining, and yet SL!Alya worships her because...why? Running joke? The only Black girl in the series is treated as a gag to be made fun of by someone who’s supposed to be her best friend, just for the audience’s amusement. Marinette’s probably meant to look funny and relatable here, but she just looks like a major bitch to her new friend. Alya’s flaws are basically blown up and exaggerated for comedic effect, while Marinette in contrast is airbrushed to perfection, with no flaws and no anxiety that was only alleviated in canon by - guess what - being Ladybug.

It’s like Zoe wants to stick to canon while adding her own little “fun” twists for humour, like making Marinette snarky and perfect (which just makes her look like an utter bitch) and in the case of Alya, it does her so dirty that even Lila is more sympathetic. LILA. After SL humiliates Lila, Alya looks doubtful but buys some bullshit excuse so that she can continue to be the Scar-worshipping idiot. And then in the aftermath, her concern isn’t for Lila, the girl who was humiliated and bullied by a literal superhero and then ended up sick. No, she’s angry because...Lila lied on her blog. The blog that doesn’t have nearly as much recognition as in canon because SL would never validate her, unlike Ladybug. So her passion for her blog is exaggerated to imply that she’d say that a girl deserves to be bullied and sick because she told a few lies (since at this point, Alya doesn’t know about any possible malice on Lila’s part, just as in canon. All that’s known is the lying for attention).

It’s horrible hypocrisy, where Alya is held to higher standards than the other (white) characters and when she fails to meet those standards, she’s torn into. She’s not afforded any sympathy for being hurt that Lila lied to her; in fact, she’s demonised for feeling hurt, especially because of the running joke that her blog is focused on someone so horrible and she doesn’t see that. Lila is presented as the sympathetic one here. LILA. Just because Alya dared to believe her in canon.

Also, how she’s constantly trying to either tease Marinette for having a crush or insist that Marinette’s only doing what she does because of a crush...even though according to this ‘verse’s canon, Marinette is too good to make mistakes and do obsessive stuff over a crush, which is why canon Alya thinks this about her in the first place. That didn’t just come out of nowhere in the show purely for “woe is Marinette, her best friend doubts her”.

Like in the first part of ‘Gamer’, where she’s accusing Marinette of only entering the tournament to flirt with Adrien while Marinette so “coolly and calmly” rebuts her...why? By the ‘verse’s own logic, Marinette isn’t a flustered mess around Adrien. The only purpose of this scene is to glorify Marinette and her amazing calmness while making Alya look like a nosy idiot who dares to doubt her best friend. The logic of the ‘verse and of canon clash really jarringly in moments like this, and it becomes clear that the only purpose of these moments is to make Marinette look better at the expense of others. Most often her best friend, who’s an utter idiot for not seeing Scarlet Lady’s true nature and just can’t keep her nose out of Marinette’s business and so comes to wrong conclusions. Why are Marinette and Alya even friends in this ‘verse? SL!Marinette’s been nothing but condescending towards Alya most of the time.

Uh, and also the way she occasionally whitewashes Alya. Just look at the SL headers. She literally made Alya, aka a Black girl who’s one of the good guys, lighter than Lila, aka a white girl who’s one of the bad guys and not even that tanned in canon. Why do people make one of the villains darker and often whitewash one of the heroes? It’s not that hard to figure out.

(Also the way she really played into the aggressive Black girl stereotype in ‘Horrificator’ over a minor argument, even physically threatening Nino. Why? Literally why did she have to go full-on aggressive instead of just looking angry and scolding him or something?)

This all might not be conscious on Zoe’s part but the way Alya is treated is still disgusting, especially if you’re operating on internalised salt from other aspects of the salty fandom. I’ve seen her claims that she’s trying to help Alya improve and she’s not being salty but...even if she’s not being consciously salty, her salt is definitely still leaking over it and part of that salt includes racism. I also don’t see how making Alya a joke and exaggerating her flaws is helping her to improve when there was plenty to go off in canon but, well, that might just be me.

Even Marinette, who’s pretty much treated as white for 99% of it.

Marinette, aka the girl who’s only made visibly “Asian/Other” in SL ‘Reflekta’ with her Chinese-inspired Black Cat suit and name which is a one-off, while her permanent Bee outfit is just the bland tight suit that salters criticise Ladybug for having and her name is just Marigold. It comes across as using “Asianness” as a costume and it really didn’t sit right with me at first, but it took me a while to tease out why exactly this made me feel ick.

There’s nothing wrong with touching more on Marinette’s heritage and expanding on it in ways that the show doesn’t, especially because this is a big sticking point for salters, but again...it’s only a one-off. A costume. There aren’t casual hints sprinkled throughout the comic that just normally establish Marinette as half-Chinese, aside from like a page or two in ‘Timebreaker’ showing Sabine’s outfit. It’s another ‘Kung Food’ where it’s slammed into one episode and shoved into our faces that Marinette Is Chinese and it’s really jarring and unpleasant.

It just comes across as fetishising, is all. I don’t think it’s something most people would pick up on unless they’re used to being able to see this kind of thing.

Master Fu. Oh, Master Fu.

From an old man who made mistakes but tried as best as he could with the limited knowledge he had, he’s now a bumbling idiot who...put the earrings in Marinette’s bag instead of her room for some reason? To kickstart the plot? Especially because the ring was still in Adrien’s room. It’s very, very contrived.

And then in one of the most recent updates, Zoe has Adrien - a white boy - physically threaten Fu, aka an elderly Asian man. It’s disgusting. I was gobsmacked when I first saw it. And that’s the thing with salters: they tear into Adrien for being a white boy so they can look Enlightened when he hasn’t actually done anything racist, yet they then turn around and perpetuate actual racism in trying to “fix” him

There’s probably more but those are the examples that jump out at me of the racism in SL. There are plenty more problems but...whatever. I’ll be here all day if I try and cover those.

As for the Galahad thing...it’s personal. That original post was as much as I was comfortable revealing.

[dl4draws]

hi there!

lil' preface so i don't come off as a weirdo: i'm somewhat new to tumblr shenanigans™ so idk if it's just normal that awesome writers and artists share a bit of their progress for creating something, but you're the only blog i've witnessed doing it so you're getting this ask.

i absolutely love it here. getting to listen to (or read about?) someone's projects in the works feels like such an awesome thing! you're sharing this passion of yours with us and letting us experience this joy with you?? you're letting us see little doodles and headcanons and even a playlisy?? OMG

again, idk if that's normal on here but to me (someone who does everything on their own because who would care about my silly little craft?) this is absolute pure generosity and kindness on your part and i will never not praise that. i can't really put into words what i'm trying to say here because as much as i love the english language, it's not my first language and i just don't know how to express this properly. i guess what i want to say is thank you? thank you for all the happiness you share, thank you for letting us come on this journey with you and thank you for talking about your passion. that's a scary thing to do but whenever i see someone doing that i will 100% always sit there and listen to them talk about something they care about a lot (even if i don't understand a single thing about the topic) and try to interact and let them know that someone always cares about their thoughts and projects, even if it's just a stranger on the internet, because i know what it's like to run against a wall of indifference and i don't want anyone to feel like that.

keep talking about things that bring you joy and keep sharing them, someone's always going to support you and cheer you on and get excited with you!

this got a lot longer than i wanted it to be but my point is you're amazing and keep doing what you do, no matter how much you want to share of it or how long it takes! there's always going to be support and someone who appreciates you and your work.

idk if this should be anon or not because i don't want to seem so incredibly weird and out of place with my long stupid ask here-- this feels so uncalled for

take this virtual hug

hi hi hi good morning, I am throwing my reputation away and say I’m about to cry

Okay so I’m answering this bit by bit! I don’t think it’s that rare to see a content creator share stuff about their writing/art! At least with the people I’ve surrounded myself, there’s always sneaky posts here, reblogs with tags and stuff about their characters! It’s always so much fun to see those, see people share little details about their work is always fascinating to me! Personally I adore sharing the process because I am having Too Much fun and being extremely chaotic and I think it’s cool to share me having only half a braincell with you all lol

I’m so glad you like it here in my little corner of tumblr!!! I’m not an oversharer in any aspect of my life usually but with aus i go full beast mode and start talking and good luck shutting me up lmao as of right now I don’t really have time for full drawings (which is exactly why the hanahaki au isn’t already finished). Getting to doodle for this au has helped me with wanting to draw but not being exactly able to, and with getting stuff off my mind! I’m not very forgetful but with ideas I usually think about them, have a Good Laugh tm, proceed to think about it for half an hour and then forget about it, unless I scream about it to someone (or just make a post and announce it to you all).

One thing u might not know about me is that I make playlists for everything. If u go through my spotify playlist you’ll see many playlist, but I have so many secret ones bakshssk making a playlist for an au or for a fic (sometimes I make playlists for fics I read!)

I absolutely adore hearing about everyone’s ideas, like you said, listening to someone talk about something they’re passionate about is always so fascinating!! And it makes me so happy to see that someone trusts me enough to open their mind and share their ideas with me, even if (again like you said) I understand nothing of the topic! Honestly I am extremely thankful for you, and everyone who has ever interacted with me or my silly ideas. It hypes me up so much to see you all liking and sending me stuff about it (every time I get a random ask about something I said, or a headcanon or anything 25 years are added to my life ngl). I never thought people would enjoy my aus, be it the hanahaki one or the street racing one (or the beauty and the beast one!!!) You guys really are amazing!! And I totally get what you mean with running with a wall of indifference, I’ve been there and it’s not fun, but I’ve learned who to share with and who not to share with, and that’s okay (for me). I’m not a very good talker but I’ve been told I’m good listener, so if anyone ever has any problems, anything they’d like to talk about please never hesitate on sending me an ask or a message!! (zukka wingfic anon I’m still thinking about you)

Nooooo, please I didn’t find this weird at all!!!! I actually feel so flattered I haven’t been able to stop smiling :D it makes me so happy to see you enjoy my silly content, and that makes me want to create more of it!!!

I hope you have a wonderful day/night, and know that I’ll be thinking about this all month hakahaksb

[santaclausdeadindian]

Sorry for doing it this way, I think OP deleted their post or blocked me like a mature, balanced person would, so I have to tag you in

@mr-laugh

Oh boy, lot to unpack here.

So you didn’t even know there were that many subgenres of fantasy, one of the most popular classifications of fiction on the planet... And you think you know enough to tell ANYBODY what classic fantasy is?

And where exactly I attempted to do that, huh?

If you don’t even know the most common subgenres of this vast pool of fiction, why are you jumping into this discussion? You just admitted you don’t know anything!

There is no discussion, there is a stupid ass post. Don't flatter yourself, you don't know jack shit.

Me not knowing what exactly are the precize subgenres of a genre of literature, which, btw, are completely arbitrary and for your information, sword&magic is a legitimate category, has absolutely nothing to do with what that post you were so keen on agreeing with above. It was you who said pretty much any classic fantasy is like that: some poorly written, self-indulgent and borderline racist.

Did ya read the link, buddy? Howard talked about knowing what burning black man smelled like. He was quite approving of these things! And the books are pretty racist, it’s not hard to see, unless you ain’t looking.

Yes, I started reading and by the end of the first paragraph I was convinced he was ahorribly racist man. And? Still doesn't change the fact, that for my 12 year old self, there was nothing racist about it. I definetly wasn't looking for it, that much you got right. If I'd read it again, I'm sure I'd catch on to it now, that I know what kind of asshole he was. So the implied racism would be there. You got a point for that.

Rugged individualism? It always amuses me how that argument always pops out of the mouths of guys who are aping what they’ve heard their buddies say. If ten thousand mouths shout “rugged individualism”, how individualistic are they?

Then you should amuse yourself by looking up why this thing crops up as of late. It's coming from certain, supremely racist yet unaware of it publications that claim ridiculous shit like "rugged individualism" is a hallmark of white supremacy, among other, equally laughable things, like punctuality. It's a joke.

Again, I will give Howard to you, if someone that racist writes a black man saving the hero of the story, I bet there was something else still there to make it wrong.

Conan’s not some avatar of rugged individualism.

Uhm, yeah, he pretty much all that.

He’s as unreal and unrealistic as the dragons are,

It's called fantasy for a reason, buddy.

but more dangerous because White Men model their ideas of reality on Big Man Heroes like him;

Glad you are totally not racist, yo!!! It's such a relief that White Men are the only ones with this terrible behavior of looking up to larger than life, mythic superpeople and nobody else. Imagine what it would be like, if we would have some asshole from say, hindu indian literature massacering demons called Rakshassas, by the tens of thousands, or some bullshit japanese warlord would snatch out arrows from the air, or a chienese bodyguard would mow down hundreds of barbaric huns without dropping a sweat, or some middle eastern hero would fight literal gods and their magical beasts in some quest for eternal life.

it's a poison that weakens us, distracting us from actually trying to solve the world’s issues, or banding together to deal with shit.

This is what you just said. It's up to the white man, to get their shit together, be not racist and solve the world's problems, because those poor other people's just can't do it. If we would just not be oh, so racist, then China would surely stop with the genocides they are doing now, or blowing more than half the greenhouse emissions into the athmosphere, the muslims would stop throwing their gays from rooftops or ramming trucks into crowds and would just start treating women as equals, India's massive rape problem would be gone, subsaharan African would be magically bereft of the host of atrocities committed there on a daily, yeah, you sure have that nonracism down, buddy!

A rugged individualist would be smart enough to realize that even the most individualistic person needs others; no man’s an island, and a loner is easier to kill.

Individualism doesn't mean at all what you think it means, it's a cluster of widely differeing philosophies that puts the individual ahead of the group or state, it's ranging from anarchism to liberalism and is also has nothing to do with my point.

Central Europe?  What, Germany?  Because let me tell you, historically they are SUPER concerned about race!

Germany traditionally considered western european, central europe would be the people stuck between them and the russians, to put it very loosely. We are equally nonplussed by the self-flagellating white guilt complex and the woe me victim complex of the west. We did none of the shit those meanie white people did to the nonwhites and suffered everyting any poc ever did and then some. We don't give a shit about your color, we care about what culture you are from and if you respect our values.

I’m an American from a former Confederate state; trust me, race is everything.  It always is.

No it really isn't. How old are you? Asking without condescension, genuinly curious, because if you are in your low twenties at most, it's understandable why you think like this.

See that hike? Do you know what happened at that time that made virtually all american media suddenly go all in with racism?

Occupy Wall Street, that's what. It's a brilliant way to sow victimhood and hate and desperation amongst the people who have one common enemy, the powers that be, the banking sector, the politicians, the megacorporations.

Can't really blame you if you are in your early 20's at most, you grew up with this bullshit hammered into you. If you are older, step out of your echochamber please!

If you actually believe, that mankind doesn't progress naturally towards a more accepting society purely on the merit of there being more good people than bad and sharing a similar living with all the hardships in life, seeing that our prejudices inherited by our parents are baseless, that's how we progress, not virtue signalling courses and regressive policies. I was raised as any other kid, I had a deep resentment towards the neighbouring nations, I said vile, racist shit against people who I actually share a lot of genes with, of which fact I was in deep denial about, and then as I gradually got exposed more and more actual people of these groups, I started to realize I was wrong and everybody should be judged by their individual merits. It works throughout the generations, my grandma was thought songs about Hitler and how all jews are evil in school, she legit thought all black people at least in Africa are cannibals and shit, my mother stillsays shit that would get her cancelled in the USA, and I will probably have a mixed race kid as we stand now.

This whole racism is an eternal problem is laughable and disingenuous and I am actually sorry for you that you feel like that.

Moving on. As for Dany, the “noble white girl sold to scary dark foreign man” is a very popular trope, especially in exploitation films, which Martin draws on much more heavily than most authors do.

No, he fucking doesn't. I already wrote a bunch of examples from the books you seeminly ignore willfully. First of all, she is sold to those olive skinned savages by a white man, who is a terrible, increadibly evil man. He want's to fuck the then 11-12 ish Dany so bad, she picks his slave most resembling her and rapes her repeatedly, "until the madness pass." He also maimes children and traines them as disposable slave spies by the hundreds. There is no boundaries colour here, GRRM prtrays all kinds of people as reprehensible, evil and disgusting. Just like you can find plenty of examples to the opposite.

What is he drawing from your exploitation movies exactly? He writes about the human anture, he writes about the human heart at war with itself, that's his central philosophy of writing.

ASOFAI is basically just a porn movie with complicated feudal politics obscuring it, which is probably why it worked so well as an HBO series (up until the last two seasons or so.)

There is no gratuitous sex scene in the books, the rapes are described as rapes, they are horrible, they are very shortly described and usually just alluded to.

The people commiting them are not put into generous lights and one of the single most harrowing stories hidden behind the grand happenings of the plot is a girl named Jeyne Poole, whose suffering although never shown, is very much pointed out, along with the hypocrisy of the people who only fight to try and save her, because they think her a different person.

Honestly, if you actually read the books and they came of to you as porn, you might want to do some soulsearching.Btw, the HBO series was a terrible adaptation, it immedietly started to go further and further from the books with every passing season and the showmakers made it very clear to everybody, that they didn't understand the very much pacifist and humanist themes of Martin. And neither did you.

We also get no indication Essos will eat it when Winter comes; hell, they seem to not know Winter exists, given the way people act, even though that is also unrealistic and weird.  Essos was just super badly designed, and Dany is a terribly boring character.

to be continued