#but they need some kind of backstory (read: trauma)

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 10 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: A fight turns into something beautiful. Turns into what could be your last day on earth.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/rape/death, hinting at suicidal thoughts (only briefly and not really serious, but I'll put it here nonetheless), body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, (rough) sex, oral sex, switch, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

The tight smile.

It was all you needed to see to know you were in great, big trouble. It was really disappointing though, considering how good the day had started.

When you woke up, right after having a short, restless sleep, you saw him lying beside you. And for once, ever since you had gotten here, he wasn’t awake. No, he was deep asleep. His beautiful  eyes shut tightly and his expression one of peaceful relaxation. You hadn’t ever seen him this perfect before.

It was nearly ridiculous. Just a few hours earlier, he had ravaged you in a way that left you feeling sore and used, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but somehow you had a feeling last night was different. It wasn’t the sex per say. It was the way he got angry and you felt you couldn’t get through to him, even if you truly wanted to. And what was far worse than all of it, was the threat.

The threat.

What did it even mean?

I would never kill you. At least not unless you gave me a reason to.

It wasn’t even a subtle threat. He didn’t try to hide that he was twisted and dangerous. Dangerous for you, if you pushed the right buttons. You had done so quite some times by now, but luckily you were still around. But how much was too much?

What would make his mind go blank and cause him to swing an axe at you?

Shoot you right in the face?

Gut you in the middle of the-

You shuddered and took a long, deep breath to calm yourself. This wasn’t going to happen. You wouldn’t anger him to that degree. And yet, you couldn’t keep yourself from thinking about it.

What could possibly piss him off enough, to trigger such an extreme reaction?

If you went out and fucked someone else?

Or if you spilled milk on the coffee table?

You took another slow breath and looked back at his peaceful, sleeping form. It was hard not to love him, when he was like this. Sweet. Peaceful.

Vulnerable.

You hadn’t even seen vulnerable, regarding him. Not really. You didn’t know his name, his family, his backstory or anything else that truly mattered. All you knew was which buttons to push and it would make him slap you. You had his age. And his sexual preferences. You knew he had some kind of dangerous job, but you had no idea what it was about. And you knew he was twisted.

Utterly and entirely twisted.

But you saw none of that as you watched him sleep. All you saw was a handsome man, the most handsome man you had ever seen, even with the faint trace of a scar on his cheek. You still hated the sight of it. Not because it would have done anything to his attractiveness. No, he was very obviously still perfect. It was the fact that he got hurt.

Someone hurt him.

You were surprised just by how angry the thought made you. He was always so confident. It was his choice to either be angry and take it out on you or to be gentle and spoil you with affection and gifts. But it was his choice. He was the man. He was in charge. He was the epitome of strength.

And someone hurt him.

Him.

A part of you was almost tempted to think yours.

Someone hurt your man.

But you pushed the thought away just as quick as it came. He was hardly your man.

Your bane, your curse, your horror. Yes.

But not your man.

When he stirred slightly, you were pulled out of your thoughts. It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for him to blink his eyes open. When he finally looked up at you and met your gaze, a hint of surprise flashed over his features. But he schooled his expression into a soft smile effortlessly.

“Good morning, my little owl.” He purred. “You’re up early.” He raised a brow and smirked slowly. “Were you watching me sleep?”

Your face flushed, but you didn’t feel the need to deny it. It was pretty obvious anyway.

“I did.” You said quietly. “I couldn’t help it. You looked so…peaceful.”

He hummed softly and propped himself up on his elbows, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear with two fingers. “Peaceful? Doesn’t sound like me at all.”

He didn’t seem angry or even irritated that you watched him. If anything, he seemed amused or maybe even strangely flattered.

You shrugged.

“Have you been up for long?”

You shook your head.

He frowned slightly and held your chin in his hand, brushing his thumb over your skin in a gentle way. “You didn’t sleep well. You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

You averted your gaze. What could you possibly tell him? That you spent all night, asking yourself not if, but when he would finally snap and snap your neck the same?

“Look at me.”

You hesitated, but eventually you met his gaze again. His expression was one of thoughtfulness and curiosity and you knew you had to give him something. He wouldn’t stop pestering you otherwise. You thought for a moment, before you finally gave up. You didn’t trust your ability to lie to him. He would see right through it and punish you for trying to deceive him.

“It’s about last night.” You murmured quietly.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but eventually he relaxed his expression and let go of your chin. With a soft sigh, he murmured back: “Was it too much for you? Too rough?”

You thought about the best possible way to answer this. Eventually you came up with something you would have hoped would be the perfect solution. “I’m still ashamed.”

“Ashamed?” He frowned.

“Because a part of me enjoys it.”

He hummed softly. “We talked about this, sweet girl, but I’ll say it again and again. You have nothing to be ashamed about. First of all, it’s not your fault you turned out like this.”

“That’s kind of the problem.” It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. It did bother you. Just that the life threatening thing was worse. “I feel like you enjoy what we do, because you simply enjoy it. And I think I enjoy it, because I feel the constant need to get hurt and degraded, because of…because of what happened to me.”

He regarded you with a long, thoughtful look. His eyes softened somewhat and he was back. The man who supposedly cared about you came back, after a long, rough night. He sighed and rolled over so that he was on his back and staring at the ceiling. All the while he stretched out his arm and pulled you along, curling you into his side. He didn’t look at you as he spoke and his tone of voice was almost emotionless.

You couldn’t tell if you preferred this over the anger. Probably not.

“Did I ever tell you about my father?”

You froze. What? No. He hadn’t ever told you anything about himself that mattered. Let alone his family. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t even have a father.

But all you managed was a small, breathless shake of your head.

He hummed softly and played with your hair as he spoke, still keeping his voice cool and measured. He never met your gaze. Almost like he couldn’t. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to appear nonchalant or if he truly didn’t care. You hoped for the first one.

“My father had some creative ways of punishment.” He hummed. Oh, God. “Similar to your mother, I might think. Just more blood. And a few…other things.”

You held your breath as he spoke, feeling utterly sick. The fact that he had so subtly and smoothly threatened your life last night was suddenly the last thing on your mind.

“Don’t get me wrong, sweetness. I was always a little different from other boys my age. I wasn’t interested in the things the others were. I liked different things. Darker things. But I’m pretty sure, had it not been for my father…” He hummed. “He did some nasty things. Really nasty. And not only to me. To my mother as well.” He turned to face you fully, while you still lay frozen and staring at him with bated breath. All the while he caressed your face and spoke in this soft voice, like he was reading from a children’s book. It was eerie. “That might be one of the reasons why I am always in control.” He smiled briefly. “Especially sexually.”

You just kept staring at him. He hadn’t said it outright and he probably never would, but you could tell there was something. Something dark and terrible, something that still haunted him, even after all these years. And it made you sick to the core. The fact that his father, his own father, had hurt him, it made you feel nauseous. And especially, angry.

“So, I should probably be grateful to him, don’t you think?”

You knew you weren’t supposed to say anything to that, anything about that at all. No matter how terrible you felt, no matter how badly you wished to comfort him. He would get angry, because he would think of it as pity. You were sure. But you still had to say it.

“Your father is a sick man.” You said quietly. “And you didn’t deserve whatever he did to you.”

“Oh, I’m aware, my sweet, darling girl.” His face lit up in a soft smile. “I was just a boy. A twisted one, maybe. But still a boy.”

It made you feel as uneasy, as you felt relieved about it. At least he acknowledged it. He had no fault in his father’s cruelty. At least not back then.

And at least there was something. A tiny reminder that he was human, that he was real, that there was something akin to flesh and blood that made him similar to you. Not the fact that it had happened. Oh no, you would have changed it, were you in the power to. You would have bled and suffered, if only it meant to free him from the burden of his past.

No, but the thought that he told you about it. He had a father. A mother. A family. He had a childhood. A life. He was real.

You lay in silence for a long while. Of course you wanted to say more, to comfort him and hug him. To kiss away the fear he had probably felt as a little boy. You wanted to take him in your arms and make him whole again, puzzle him together until he got reunited with the love he was so desperately missing all his life. What about his mother? You asked yourself. But you thought now wasn’t the best time to ask. You didn’t want to risk making him angry, when he wasn’t so far. He hadn’t ever shared as much of himself. You didn’t want to say anything. And, you suddenly realized, you were afraid to pressure him.

So you said the next best thing. In the silent hope, that one day he’d trust you enough to let you in.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You said very softly. His head perked up and his expression softened. No anger in sight.

“My sweet, caring girl. The ghosts of my past are no more than that. And don’t you worry. I got my revenge.”

You bit your lip and rolled onto your side, facing him properly. The thoughtfulness in your eyes turned into something else the longer you looked at him, a mixture of concern and gentleness. He didn’t seem to mind. He let you stare without interrupting your thoughts. It was a peaceful, comfortable silence.

“How did you get your revenge?” You asked quietly, before you could stop yourself.

He smirked and stretched out his arms behind his head.

“I killed him.”

A part of you had suspected as much. But another part of you, the naïve little girl that you somehow still were, felt horrified. He killed his own father. And yet, that other part of you whispered softly in the back of your mind.

Did you expect anything else?

You thought back to your mother. Had you ever had a gun in the wrong moment-

No. Never. You couldn’t kill anyone. Not even a fucking fly. You were the type of person to chase them out of the window, instead of crushing them.

It wasn’t enough to calm you down and he seemed to notice.

“Are you alright, sweet girl?”

You were going to die anyway. Why not speak freely at least?

Forget his father. He’s dead. But you’re not. Not yet at least.

“You scared me last night.”

His brows furrowed. “When we-“

“No.” You said in a soft tone and slowly sat up, wrapping the sheets around your body. “I mean, yes. Kind of. But that’s not the problem. You scared me when you said…when you said you would kill me if I gave you a reason to.” Your expression and your tone of voice were almost child-like. Innocent and curious, not at all trying to guilt-trip him. Just a girl, scared for her life. Her sanity.

Herself.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He said softly as he sat up as well. He reached out to pull you on his lap, but you pulled back. He frowned, but he didn’t protest.

“I was simply-“

“What could get me killed?”

It was so sharp, so matter-of-fact, that it made him pause for a moment. He looked genuinely caught off-guard, like he never expected him to ask him such a question. And like he wasn’t sure how to answer it.

“What?”

“What could I say or do that would make you kill me?” You asked in a soft voice. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, but you tried to stay strong. You needed to get a point across. You needed to know.

He thought for a moment, before he leaned back and narrowed his eyes in a thoughtful frown.

“Another man.”

Cheating. As if you really were anything to each other, right?

Such a normal thing. People got killed over cheating all the time, didn’t they?

Or did they really?

“Another man.” You whispered. “Okay. What else?”

He hummed softly. “If you left me.”

“If I left you?” You meant it in a way as if saying; how would I be supposed to leave you? There aren’t even fucking windows here.

He nodded. “When you leave me, you’re no longer my girl. And I don’t have a reason to keep you alive, if you’re not.”

You swallowed thickly. How very refreshing. He was being honest at least. Wasn’t that what you wanted? And you didn’t know if this was better or worse. You had expected as much.

“Anything else?” You whispered hoarsely.

“No.”

Your brows shot up in surprise. “No? If I don’t cheat on you or leave you, you won’t-“

“No.” He said again, in that infuriating, calm tone.

“And if I insulted you?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “If I hurt you? If I-“

“Don’t get me wrong.” The menacing bastard was back. “You don’t get to trample on me, sweet girl. In fact, you know what happens, if you do all that. You’ll get punished. And that didn’t change.” He narrowed his eyes further.

He took a long breath to calm himself and finally said: “I just didn’t want you to be terrified for no reason. I’m sure there are a few more things you can do that will definitely get you killed. So, try not to push my buttons too much. Don’t experiment. Don’t think you get any kind of power. All you are is my girl. Mine. Mine to use. Mine to torment as I please. You’re my plaything. My toy.” He got angrier with every word and you were sure, more than sure, you had done something terribly wrong.

“Mine to use however I see fit.” He gritted out. “Because that’s all you are to me.”

Every word stabbed a wound deeper and deeper into your soul. He didn’t love you. You weren’t an idiot. But a part of you had hoped, hoped so desperately, that you were anything more to him. Anything of meaning. Anything he cared about. Anything he thought about and smiled, when he went off to his mysterious workplace. Anything at all.

But you weren’t. You were his plaything. His fucktoy. His doll.

His girl.

Your face burned in shame and your guts churned painfully. You slowly looked down at your hands and folded them in your lap, while you kept the blanket pulled up to your chin.

“I wasn’t-“

“Yes, you were.” He hissed and roughly pulled your chin up, to make you look at him. “Did you hear me? You’re nothing more than a thing for me to use, a doll, something to dress up in a pretty dress and take my anger out on. Did you get that through your goddamn, thick skull? You’re nothing. Nothing at all.” He spat out.

At this point, you felt indeed like he had stabbed you. The knife was still there on the carpet by the bed. How very reckless. You could have stabbed him last night, didn’t he think about that? No, he was tired or maybe he just trusted himself to have broken you enough not to ever hurt him.

It was true. You wouldn’t ever hurt him. Not like that. That one punch was as far as it could go.

And now, as you sat there and listened to his cruel words, a small part of you suddenly wished he hadn’t bluffed, hadn’t used the knife as a way to find relief in his twisted mind. A part of you wished you weren’t there, to listen to his cruel reminders. The reminder that you were nothing.

Nothing at all.

You felt your hands shake, just the same second your lip quivered.

He was so angry, so furious, he hardly even recognized your presence. He wanted to make some point known.

You understood it now.

He would never love you.

But you? It was too late for you. You already loved him. And he was breaking your heart.

All your life you thought that couldn’t happen to you. You always assumed you were far too numb for these things.

A tear rolled down your cheek and you stared firmly down at your lap. Your hands were shaking furiously and your body shook with the sobs you choked back.

By the time he looked up again and saw the state you were in, his anger immediately disappeared. Something akin to horror took its place instead. He rushed forward without even thinking about it and held your arms tightly, tilting his head down below and staring up at you, to make you look at him.

“Wait.” He said quickly. “Wait. I didn’t mean it.”

You were stuck between pushing him away and letting him console you. But you knew there was probably nothing that could ever bring you back. Your heart, already broken and bruised, had just somehow been pieced back together by him, only for him to crush it again under the palm of his hand, under the cruelty of his words, under the weight of his actions.

You decided to push him back instead. At least for once, you tried to keep a semblance of dignity. It was a lost cause, but it meant something to you.

He let out a surprised exhale, but quickly rushed forward again, trying to get ahold of you, but this time, you struggled.

“Get off of me!”

“No, you need to listen to me!”

“No! No, get the hell off!”

“You need to listen!”

You struggled even harder and pushed him back, clawed at his skin and within seconds you found yourself in the middle of a physical fight. So far, he hadn’t tried to slap you or bring you to your senses anyhow, he just tried to make you focus. And when you hit against his chest or pushed him back by his shoulders, when you scratched his arms and pulled on his hair, he let you. Without retaliating. He let you.

You were just waiting for him to snap. A part of you might even have been hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him, because he had just hurt you so terribly. But he didn’t.

And when you pushed him back against the mattress, he let you.

And when you straddled his lap, he let you.

He even let you intertwine your fingers and press his hands against the bed.

He just let you.

You stopped struggling. Stopped fighting him and stopped trying to provoke anything.

You were on top him, your hair falling over your shoulders and framing your face like a waterfall. Everything else was suddenly gone. All that there was left were him and you. He stared up at you, his eyes wide and his expression one of quiet fascination. Of course he allowed you to take control. After all, all it needed was a tiny bit of strength from him and he’d have you pinned to the floor. But this time, he didn’t. He didn’t protest, didn’t fight back, didn’t even flinch. He allowed you to take the lead. He allowed you to take control of him.

When the thought hit you, you nearly choked on the air you breathed. And you breathed, heavily and quickly, until your breaths mingled into one. You leaned further down, so close that the tip of your nose almost touched his. His chest rose and fell quickly. You could tell, even though you kept your focus on his face.

“You meant it.” You whispered breathlessly.

He stared at you with his mouth slightly agape and then he slowly shook his head. “You’re more.” He whispered back.

More than a toy?

More than a doll?

More than just his girl?

You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t allow yourself to hope, because if you did, the next time he crushed it, it would be ever harder for you to find back to yourself. And did you really want to risk that?

You shook your head, ready to come up with the next bitter, biting response, when his words caught you off-guard.

“You’re not only mine”, he said quietly. “I’m also yours.”

God, this was confusing. And slowly you felt yourself get as dizzy and nauseous as you would have on a rollercoaster. You hated rollercoasters, because you were afraid of them. You hated them, because you never went on one.

“You’re two people at once.” You whispered breathlessly. “How do I know, when your evil twin will be back?”

He smiled slowly. Even now, even when you felt heartbroken and furious, his smile meant so much to you. It made everything seem beautiful. Everything was easier. Nothing hurt.

Until it did.

“I know.” He whispered. “Maybe you could try and put him in his place, every once in a while.”

You stared at him with wide eyes. Did he really allow you to take control? Just like that? Was it a trick? Was it a game? A joke? Something even more evil he’d come up with?

Whatever it was, you were dying to find out. Because you were sure, you’d get punished anyway. So, why not make use of it?

You took a shaky breath and leaned further down, so close, until your lips almost touched.

“You really didn’t mean it?” You asked in the ghost of a whisper.

His gaze briefly wandered down to your lips, before he looked into your eyes again.

“No.” He whispered back. “Not even I am that dense.”

That nearly made you smile.

But just nearly.

Instead you did something else. You leaned further down, until your lips finally touched his. The kiss was feather-light and hesitant. The touch was so gentle, that you caught yourself asking yourself in your head, if it really was the same man.

He was letting you kiss him. He didn’t try anything. Didn’t try to part your lips or pull you closer. Didn’t try to push your legs apart. His hands were still motionless under yours, all that he did was slowly caress the back of your hands with his fingers.

He participated in the kiss. He kissed you back, obviously. But all he did was mirror your touch.

You were in control.

You gasped against his lips. You had no idea what to do. It felt odd. Maybe even wrong. The only things you had ever fantasized about were to get controlled by someone else.

Controlled by him.

And for you to control him, it sounded like an impossible endeavor. It felt like one, even more. But there you were. On his lap. Slowly guiding the pace.

You swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what to do.” You whispered into the kiss.

He hummed very quietly. “Imagine I’m the good twin.” He whispered back and pulled back just enough to look at your face. “There is no right or wrong. Just do whatever feels good.”

You bit your lip as you watched him closely. It could still be a trick. But in the back of your mind, you knew it wasn’t. It was an attempt to heal you. Heal him as well, maybe. You were both damaged. Both two fragments, incomplete and alone. Was it possible that you could heal each other?

It sounded strange in your head. You wanted to be controlled. And he survived off the feeling of being in control. But maybe, just maybe, this was what you both needed. A role reverse. A chance to grow. A chance to connote. Just this once.

To become one, whole thing.

You took a deep, shaky breath and brushed your lips over his. You were still nervous. But you tried to do what he said. Just do whatever feels good.

And maybe it would.

You hesitantly, almost shyly, ran the tip of your tongue along his lower lip. His reaction surprised you. He moaned. You really expected him to get off on nothing but cruelty and violence. But somehow the feeling of you, of being with you, in any way, seemed to be enough.

You needed to try it. The shift. The control. Even just this once.

You slowly parted his lips with your tongue and yours met his in a timid, careful movement. He was still the one guiding you. But the biggest reason was, that you had no idea what you were doing. But he was holding himself back. You were on top, pressed against him.

He was yours.

Your man. Your psychopath. Maybe even your lover.

The kiss went on and your movements became more and more confident. You didn’t actually care what you were doing, as long as you heard the soft moans he tried to suppress. And every time he did, you couldn’t help but moan, too. Your tongues tangled in a sinful dance and you slowly slid your fingertips over his wrists and up his arms. Until you eventually reached his shoulders. His neck. His hair. His cheek. His chin.

You hadn’t realized how quickly you were breathing. All the time you expected him to push you away, to reject you, to stop you. But he never did.

Your hand stilled against his face and you pulled your head back to look at him. To see if he was going to stop you. Mock you. Hurt you some more.

But his expression was more earnest than you had ever seen before. You could see the way his throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed and the small, tiny frown of focus on his face. He looked much more mature in that moment than he usually did. When he wore that twisted smile, he looked younger. Carefree. But in that moment, he looked like a man who had seen life.

And death.

And taken a part in it.

He slowly parted his lips, when your fingers stilled against them, inviting you. Your mouth fell open and you inhaled sharply as you felt his tongue dart out.

“God, what are you-“ You stopped yourself and instead released the softest moan, when he ran his tongue along your index finger. His hand gently circled your wrist and he pressed his lips against the back of your hand. Your knuckles. And eventually each finger.

You watched him in awe, realizing you were only ever falling deeper for him.

What was it with that man that you loved him so much, despite all the pain he put you through?

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. The watching, the silence. You squeezed his hand and your head dipped forward. Your lips found his neck and you made a point of kissing each and every spot of skin you found on the way. His eyes fell shut and he took a shaky breath.

“No.” He whispered. “Wait.”

You immediately froze, expecting the inevitable rejection. But instead, he bit his lip and slowly slid his hands under your nightdress. The calloused skin of his palms ran up your back and he gently slid the material up, until he finally managed to pull it over your head and onto the ground. His gaze wandered from your face, down to your neck, where it lingered and eventually further down to your breasts and your stomach.

“God.” He whispered breathlessly. “God, you’re perfect.” He bit his lip again and met your gaze. “Let me worship you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you tilted your head to the side, only to feel his lips brush along your earlobe and eventually over your neck. You closed your eyes and sighed softly. It was the best feeling in the world.

His lips caressed your neck and his tongue occasionally darted out, drawing a moan from your lips. He moved with devilish slowness, a torturous pace, slow enough to make you melt into a puddle of desire on top of him. A part of you almost wanted to beg him. Beg him to go faster, to touch you harder, to take you. But you didn’t. Because another part of you wanted to savor every second of this.

When you felt the wet heat of his mouth move lower and embrace the sensitive skin of your breast, you felt your eyes roll back in your head. The sigh that came over your lips was more of a moan. You gently buried your fingers in his hair and played with it. Every time his tongue slipped out to run over the curve of your breast, you felt your hips press down against his own on pure instinct. You felt how hard he was, painfully so. But he didn’t press his hips up against you, he didn’t even try once. He was skilled at ignoring his own need, when he wanted to. He made you feel like a princess. Like all that mattered in the world were you.

You squirmed and shuddered when he moved underneath you, brushing his tongue down a wet path on your stomach.

His hands encircled the back of your thighs and he held you firmly, his fingers gently digging into your skin. And he moved. Lower and lower. Until you felt his hot breath kiss the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. A soft whimper left you and you bit your lip to keep yourself from begging. He was going to give you whatever you wanted. Today, there was no need to beg.

He slowly but firmly pushed your legs apart, and settled in-between them, still lying on his back and ignoring his own ache. He shot you a pointed look, before he finally stuck out his tongue and rolled it over the warm wetness of your need.

“Oh, God.”

He hit every right spot at the first try and you could no longer stay silent. His grip on your thighs tightened and he silently encouraged you to move. Move. Take what you want.

You swallowed a shaky moan and began to tentatively move your hips. It didn’t take long for you to figure out how it worked, how you had to move. It was so easy and the pleasure rolled over you like a warm bath.

“Oh, God.” You whispered again, tightening your hand in his hair.

He did the most sinful things, sliding his tongue inside you and pulling it back out, running it along every spot, embracing your center of pleasure with his warm lips and it felt like Heaven. He knew where to kiss, where to lick, where to suck and where to flick his tongue. He knew everything. And in that moment, you didn’t care one bit about where he gained that knowledge.

Because he used it on you.

And he’d be using it on your for as long as you were his girl.

And you wanted to be his girl for the rest of your life.

“Yes. There. Right there.” You gasped out, moving your hips again and silently begging him to continue, to give you what you wanted, to give you him.

And he did nothing less than that. He kissed you like he’d kiss your lips, he tightened his grip, he didn’t let you back away. His mouth was firmly attached to your body, eager to give you everything you wanted. Letting you ride yourself to bliss.

Which was exactly what you did. You didn’t even realize it, by how suddenly it happened, but your release rolled over you like a flash of lightning. It felt more intense than ever. You felt everything deeply and he didn’t stop, until he was sure, you were entirely spent and satisfied.

You were still gasping for air, when he finally released his grip on you and looked up at you with a soft expression.

You stared at him, trying to catch your breath. All you wanted was to say something, anything, but no words came over your lips. All you managed was the gentle touch of your palm against his cheek. He smiled slowly and covered your hand with his own. Then he slowly moved back up, so that you’d straddle his lap again.

“How was that?” He whispered.

“Fuck.” Was all that you managed.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, but no trace of mockery. Just satisfaction and a tad bit of pride. You forgave him. You would have forgiven him anything.

“Can I?” You finally whispered. You needed to know, if you were still in control.

He smirked. He looked so confident. Just like you always knew him. Confident and strong. In control. And yet…

“I’m all yours, baby. Ride me.”

You bit your lip. Your face flushed the tiniest bit, but you nodded. Now, this was making you really nervous. You had seen videos, but were you able to do it yourself?

Why not? You thought. Why not?

You leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss. Still slow and sensual, but you poured all the passion you felt for him in that kiss. And he responded in kind. He didn’t try to take control of your mouth. Instead he moaned against your lips, every time your tongue brushed against his. He ran a hand down your back and squeezed your behind firmly in his hand.

“Fuck, I need you to ride me or I’m going to die.” He groaned as he bit your lip. You responded with another moan. You still felt his hardness press against you, hard and ready and needy.

God, the thought alone. The thought that he wanted you that much. It drove you insane.

You swallowed thickly and carefully ran a hand down his chest, down his stomach, down his waist, until-

You smiled. You missed his throbbing, aching need and brushed your fingers gently along his thigh instead.

He glared up at you, a hint of desperation behind the repressed anger.

“I should have known this would come.” He hissed.

Your smile widened into a grin, as you teasingly caressed his side instead.

“What? I’m just doing what you do.”

He released a frustrated growl.

“You-“

“Come on.” You whispered. “Let me have this. Just this once.”

He was still frustrated, but the look in his eyes softened the tiniest bit.

“But I want you.” He murmured and you swallowed.

“How much?” You whispered. God, this was fun.

“How much?” He asked incredulously. “Can’t you feel how much?”

You hummed in the same way he normally would. So innocent. So devilish.

“Paint a picture with your words.”

He exhaled sharply. But eventually he calmed down and wrapped his arms around you gently.

“I need to be inside of you or I’m going to die. I’m going to die, I mean it.”

“Keep going.” You whispered. “Talk to me.” While you spoke, you shifted slightly on his lap, gently grinding down on him and letting him feel you. Just enough to make you gasp, not enough for him to enter you yet.

He bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

“I want to feel you.” He murmured. “I want to fuck you. I want to be one with you. And I fucking want to cum inside you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you sighed.

“Keep going.” You responded in a breathless whisper, as you ground down against him again. The friction was enough for your both to snap your eyes shut.

“I want you to cum.” He whispered back. “I want you to cum so hard, that it’ll make you cry.”

“Fuck.” You whispered breathlessly and buried your face in his neck. “Fuck, yes.”

You swallowed again and pulled your head back up, enough to rest your forehead against his.

“Let me move then?” You whispered. “Please?”

He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “But fucking get to it.”

You released a shaky sigh. You kept your forehead pressed against his and stared into his eyes, intense and deep, while you slowly spread your legs further. You shifted again, your movements a little awkward and insecure, but eventually you felt him press up against you and you felt his tip press against your entrance. And then you slowly lowered yourself down onto his lap. You felt him fill you, but it happened so slowly that you felt every bit of it. And all the time you kept your gaze fixed on his eyes. His reaction. Every moan, every sigh, every twitch. All of it was enough to make you moan in return. You slowly lowered yourself further down, until you felt him all the way. And when you did…You didn’t move. You stayed like that. Just feeling. Just feeling all of him.

And the look in his eyes was worth it.

You had never seen him this soft, this vulnerable before. Not even when he told you about his father. His eyes were softer than ever before and you suddenly realized; you had never seen him this needy. This desperate to feel you. You were sure, just a second more and he would either take control or beg you. But you couldn’t let that happen.

It was his first time to let someone else take control after all.

And you couldn’t have him begging. You couldn’t have him do anything that would make him feel ashamed, when he was so unabashedly doing everything in order to make you happy.

So finally you moved. Slowly and carefully, very unsure still. But you moved. And he moaned. And he moved. And you moaned.

You had never felt him this deep before, this hard, this raw.

“Ride me.” He whispered breathlessly. “Ride daddy’s cock, baby.”

Your face flushed even more, but all you could focus on were his words. You movements became more forceful, more frantic, more desperate. And as hard as he tried not to move at all, it was simply impossible. He pressed his hips up against you, letting you feel him, so hard and God, so desperate.

“Yes. Yes, babygirl, just like that. Let daddy fill you up.” He groaned out.

With every thrust, every move, you felt yourself get closer yet again. It felt like a fantasy.

“Yes. Yes, my sweet girl, my baby, my darling, my love-“

His eyes widened frantically. He panicked. You could tell. So did you. On the inside. But on the outside, you pretended. You pretended all you could, that you hadn’t heard it.

The L-word.

The word that nearly broke you.

No, you hadn’t heard it. He had never said it. It was just a slip-up. A simple mistake. Nothing to get hot and bothered about.

When he realized you didn’t react, he slowly calmed down again and tightened his grip on your hips. His own movements became more and more desperate, until he was pounding into you from underneath.

“Fuck, yes. Cum for me, my babygirl. Cum for me, my darling. Take every drop of my cum.”

His words were enough to drive you over the edge. With a sharp inhale, a breathless moan, you felt your own orgasm hit you again. And he went over the edge right with you.

Your lips just an inch apart and your eyes fixed on each other.

Deep.

And raw.

“Yes.” He growled. “Oh God, yes. Fuck, yes. My girl. My girl, my...” His voice cracked and he came with a roar. He pushed his hips against you with a fervor that nearly left you bruised from the inside and it made your release drag on and on, until you felt you were about to take off to the sky.

It took you a few seconds, but when you both finally came back down from your high, you realized you were still staring into each other’s eyes. You mouth slightly agape and gasping for air, your brows furrowed and your bodies still connected in the most intimate way. You didn’t want him to withdraw yet. You wanted to feel his release run along your thighs. You wanted to feel dirty like that and at the same time you wanted something else entirely.

Stay close.

Stay together.

My love.

The word kept echoing through your mind like a poem, like a curse.

Like a death warrant.

My love.

He buried his hand in your hair and gently tugged on it.

“That…was…”

You had never seen him speechless before. The sight stirred so much in you.

You idiot girl. He hurt you, he hurt you so terribly and all you wanted right now was him beside you, at all times, maybe with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly.

God, you were just as insane as he was. Probably even more so.

He was a psychopath. What was your excuse?

You tried to distract yourself from your thoughts and so you decided to take control a last time. Your head dipped forward and you kissed him. With a tenderness that made your heart ache. And he responded. With a softness that left you breathless.

My love.

Half an hour later, you finally managed to get your hands off of each other. After you finished your bathroom routine, he invited you to the shower with him. You’d join him in a minute, you decided, while you were on your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Your mouth felt dry, your whole body did actually.

You felt sore as hell, but God. God.

The memory of it made you smile. You had never felt more loved in your life. Never felt more special, more desired, more…

A sound made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked up from the ground. What you saw made your heart stop.

The door.

The fucking door.

You mind went blank and your heart stopped beating.

The fucking door was open.

You swallowed thickly. Was it a test? Probably. Did you consider leaving?

You took a deep breath and slowly stepped into the hallway. The front door was open and there was that visitor’s terrace with a glass door attached to it, which led to the great staircase of the apartment complex.

It was a test. Or something equally cruel.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if he truly made a mistake? He was only human after all.

You stared at the glass door like you would have stared at an alien.

This was probably your only ever chance. To flee. Escape.

Get back to…

To what?

To normality, you told yourself.

To safety.

A lump formed in your throat. Did you want that? Did you even want to leave?

Even if it wasn’t a test, did you truly want to leave him?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. It almost felt like acid and it weighed like a heavy stone on your heart. The thought of sleeping alone again, of never seeing his silly smile again. Even the twisted one, you’d miss.

The thought of never feeling his lips on yours again.

His hands in your hair, his voice in your ear.

His everything.

Him.

You were his girl.

You couldn’t just up and leave. What was there in the world for you?

Maybe this was exactly your destiny. Him. Him. Him.

He was all you needed, right? He took care of you. He provided for you.

He loved you. In his own, twisted way.

My love.

You couldn’t, you decided. You couldn’t leave. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t ever-

The sound of someone’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, but to your horror, it wasn’t him. Your eyes widened impossibly when you saw the form of a man approaching.

He looked like a janitor or something like that. A man far past his prime with greying hair and a kind smile.

God, you had missed kindness.

But no, no, you were his girl. You were his girl. You wouldn’t ever leave.

You took a step back like a cornered animal as the man approached and said something to you in Korean. When you backed away even more, he stopped and his eyes widened in surprise.

He kept talking to you, kept speaking in that reassuring tone of voice.

“I…don’t…understand.” You breathed out.

You didn’t even realize how you must have looked, terrified and broken. A faint mark on your cheek. Your clothes crumpled. Bite marks, love bites, more marks on your throat.

He frowned slightly and tilted his head to the side.

“Miss-“ He said in a thick, Korean accent. “Miss- The man that’s live here- The man- Is he-“

In that moment, you felt it. His presence was so prominent, you didn’t need to hear him call out to you. You just felt it. He came in, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair wet from the shower. He most likely came to look why you hadn’t come yet.

You quickly spun around and met his gaze, your expression horrified. Your eyes were so expressive.

The door was open. He came by himself. It wasn’t my fault. Please! It wasn’t my fault!

Something hard flashed through his eyes, but it was only visible to you and it was only there for the blink of an eye. And then it was gone and it got replaced by the tight smile.

A tight, polite smile, directed at the janitor in the doorway. He spoke to him in Korean and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You stared at the ground, completely horrified.

Oh no, you thought.

Oh no. This is it.

_____________________________

Tag list: @mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q @whitefeathers @ennvfv @heartzxx @yourpointbreak @hell0kittt @salesmanlover08 @pascalislove @nina357 @ing9449myu @vamplivivi @tvbais @ilovenana00 @misswannadiesworld @glads-stuff @chunkzdeluluwife @estreiiuh @lokis-lovely-muse @zaimeskuna @lalalaa2210 @i-might-be-vanny @cupidzslvt @k1ra-park3r @vyladsgirl @jayyourbabe @yeaiamme2 @babyscilence @abcde-12345dorito @madzpm @o9sessions @dilfismz @idenack @sunburngal @prettysatoru @newtscreatures347269 @4j4ax @yru3xme @rafecamsgirlll @recordofragnarokfan2 @hayakamis-blog @kttb @fictionalmen-dilflover @puddingknows @wanderlustingcastaway @magicseahorse @everwhovian @savemyheart101 @beebeechaos

@hayakamis-blog Thank you for your lovely request, I loved the idea and I hope it turned out the way you hoped!

Author's note: I'll be honest with you, guys, this chapter cost me YEARS of my life, omg. I wrote 5000 words yesterday and then realized I didn't like what I was writing, so I deleted everything and did this today instead. I hope it was the right decision! On a super exhausted note, I'll try to answer all of your sweet, lovely messages in time!!! I'm not even exaggerating, a few of them really made me cry. Not almost, but for real. I don't know what I did to deserve all this kindness and love, but I really, really love you all! SO much!

[greentrickster]

Okay, so, been reading some good scumplane (OG!Shen Qingqiu/Airplane) lately, because in this house we support Airplane being loved by terrifying/terrifyingly hot men, but also, like... I do love Moshang just so so much as a ship.

And all this has awoken a mighty need in me.

A need for a Moshangjiu fic with scumplane getting established first and then bringing our favorite popsicle in on things.

Anyway, scenario! Shen Qingqiu starts noticing Shang Qinghua when they're disciples via the classic scenario of being smart enough to realize something is fishy about SQH being the only survivor of a demon attack, begins paying attention to his most anxious shidi, accidentally shows his most anxious shidi the simplest of Human Kindness, accidentally becomes shidi's favorite shixiong, accidentally becomes friends with shidi, accidentally catches feelings. Continues being a Sneaky Bastard in order to figure out what shidi is up to (and now also to confirm shidi is single).

Ah, shidi is entangled with an Ice Demon. This shixiong will make use of his scholarly peak's library to learn all and then decide to- wait. Wait, it's super violent by human standards, but is it- is this demon attempting to... court shidi?

...

Not if SQQ dates him first he's not!!!

There follows a whirlwind romance between SQQ and SQH where no one really knows what's going on, especially the two involved, it involves a lot of shit talking about everyone else in their lives, snacks, and accidental trauma bonding.

Also Airplane being Airplane and accidentally spilling that not only is he also kinda crushing (bad) on Mobei-jun, but also Mobei-jun's entire backstory and please, shixiong, I know it all looks bad but this shidi's house is literally the only place in the world it's completely safe for his king to sleep, everyone deserves to sleep without having to worry about their relatives murdering them for things that aren't their fault from time to time, right, shixiong???

Shen Qingqiu: ...goddammit, the demon's a fellow sad little meow meow. (only not in these exact words because he doesn't know these phrases, naturally)

In a wild, bold, and - dare I say it - shockingly sexy convolution of thought processes and ideas, SQQ manages to finagle SQH into letting him meet with MBJ (SQH nearly has a heart attack three times in the process but it's fine, it's cool, this is his life, this may as well happen, it's fine-).

SQQ: It has come to my attention that my shidi is spying for you on our sect.

MBJ: (glowering at SQH, who is cowering behind shixiong wondering how he got talked into all this)

SQQ: However it also appears that this is merely a cover story and the only thing you really do is use his room to nap. And also that you are quite fond of him.

SQH: (This is it, this is how I die. Again.)

MBJ: (...if I stare straight ahead and don't change my expression, no one will be able to tell that he's right)

SQQ: So anyway I think you should join Cang Qiong Mountain Sect.

MBJ: (gears grinding)

SQH: (squawking splutters of protest and confusion)

SQQ: (who speaks panicking!SQH at this point) Stop that, it's perfectly reasonable. He has the head disciple of our logistics peak under his thumb, it would be the simplest thing in the world for him to have you throw the sect into absolute chaos without even trying, then organize an attack, swoop in, and crush us all. He could have done it years ago, but he never has, he never even seems to initiate anything. I don't think he even cares about taking the Northern Throne, I think he's just incompetent about wanting to spend time with you. So he might as well just lie low until our shizuns ascend and then I'll take him on as a disciple on Qing Jing and you two can stop sneaking around like idiots.

MBJ: >8O

SQQ: Are you actually opposed?

MBJ: (folds arms and looks away sulkily, because like... it's true but you don't have to say it like that)

SQH: 8O ...reverse uno...

SQQ: What?

SQH: You're reverse unoing my blorbo!

SQQ: Quit making up word-

SQQ cannot continue because the System just presented the option to accept this potential new plot line (even if it does have the rather confusing title of 'Shidi Has Two Hands'), and holy shit, Mobei-jun seems to be potentially down for it, holy shit, apparently Mobei-jun actually likes me, holy shit, SQQ may have just solved all my problems-?!? This is great, this is fantastic, this is the best day of my life, this- is a long time I'm being allowed to be myself about all this, why is Shen shixiong not interrupting...?

Ah.

It is because I am kissing him full on the lips.

Cool cool cool.

At least I'm gonna die on a high note.

SQQ: O///O o_o (ahem) Shidi's- shidi's a really bad kisser.

SQH: Ah-haha, I can explain-

SQQ: We should work on that. Later.

SQH: (BEST DAY OF BOTH MY LIVES!!!)

MBJ: (I... did not actually hate watching that. Hm.)

Anyway, he agrees to the plan, SQQ and SQH start dating, some more time passes, the previous generation of peak lords ascend, the new generation take their places, and a week later Mobei-jun is an outer disciple of Qing Jing Peak.

The other peak lords are not amused, Qingqiu that is a demon, no.

SQQ: So what I'm hearing is that whole 'Cang Qiong will accept anyone from anywhere' philosophy was a lie then?

He's a demon!

SQQ: Children can't help where they're born. Now if you'll excuse me, I have classes to teach.

First lesson of the day is SQH and SQQ are a package deal, take it or leave it. Second lesson is no canoodling with Shang Shibo until you've finished with lessons and chores for the day. Third lesson is if you see any Bai Zhan disciples hassling our peak's disciples you can break their swords. Just snap 'em in half. Throw them off the peak. Don't kill them, but do make them cry.

SQH, meanwhile, has now seen MBJ in an outer disciple uniform and had a whole bunch of new awakenings on top of all the other things he already knew about himself.

And, in a twist of dramatic irony... Qing Jing's first disciple to ever have demonic heritage decides the dorms are a no-go after one night because, to him, they are broiling hot, how can anyone sleep in this heat, and chooses to go sleep in the wood shed instead.

[leahkentwriter]

Backstories for girls and women in stories that *don't* involve sexual assault.

I beta read a lot, and am involved in writing communities of various kinds, and I briefly taught English way back in the day, and I consume storytelling media in general - and one of my biggest pet peeves is sexual assault backstories. While I think this is improving, it's still annoying to me that a lot of writers (of all genders, but particularly men) fall back on a sexual assault backstory whenever they need to make a girl or woman in a story complicated or haunted or fucked up in some way.

Unless your story is dealing with the topic of sexual assault in some way, please don't use it as a way to give a character depth or angst.

Here are some prompts, just to get you started with some ideas.

Why would a woman be trying to escape her past? Why would she be seeking a fresh start?

She hated her small town; the people there didn't understand her and she never felt like she fit in - she's queer, she has a weird birthmark, she's got unique interests, she has magical powers, etc.

She's a criminal - she robbed banks or stole cars and she wanted a fresh start

She was an addict and hurt people, and she wants a fresh start now that she's sober

Her parent is a criminal or an addict and she's trying to outrun the stigma of being related to them

She didn't get along with a stepparent and skipped town as soon as she turned 18

She had big dreams of being something else, and left to pursue them

Her childhood home was haunted, but no one believed her

She got married young then divorced, and wants to start over somewhere that no one knows her

Heartbreak of any variety - she's leaving a place that reminds her too much of someone she lost or couldn't have

She wants better; maybe more money, or a career, or simply a higher quality of life

Some other violent tragedy occurred - a school shooting, an explosion at the plant, police brutality, her best friend was killed, etc.

Her hometown no longer exists (climate change, the main factory shut down, it was overrun by rabid squirrels, etc.)

What would make a woman distrustful of others?

Heartbreak; being lied to, cheated on, left for her best friend, etc.

A big betrayal - her former best friend told everyone a secret about her, someone weaponized her trauma or her past or a major flaw she's sensitive about, etc.

She witnessed a traumatizing event as a child

Her mother was a grifter and used her as part of her scams

One parent cheated on the other and broke up the family

Her older brother isn't dead after all, he was disowned for being gay and now she's questioning everything her parents ever told her

She has problems with her memory, and is never quite sure what the truth is

She's bad at reading people and has been taken advantage of

She finds out a dark secret about someone she loves and is having trouble processing it

She gradually comes to see that someone she idealized as a child is not at all what they seem

Someone she thought was a good, kind, and genuine person is arrested for a terrible crime

Spiritual abuse - the worldview she was taught was right turns out to be exploitative, represses women, etc., so she leaves

What would cause a woman to have mental health issues?

Any form of abuse - doesn't have to be sexual

Her parents had really high expectations that she couldn't live up to

It simply runs in the family

Survivor's guilt - she survived something that someone else did not

She was bullied and no one protected her

Her parents were very controlling and destroyed her confidence

Her sibling was the golden child and she was the scapegoat

She's had issues since childhood but her parents refused to admit there was anything wrong with her, so she didn't get help

Being a part of any oppressed group of people who experience discrimination - she's a person of color, she's an immigrant, she's got a disability, she's queer, etc.

Any major trauma, either witnessed or being a part of - weather events and natural disasters, infrastructure collapse, crashes and accidents, fires, a shooting or a murder, etc.

You're a writer - get creative. There are lots of ways to traumatize and haunt a girl/woman character without having to resort to a sexual assault backstory. You can even make her the problem! Maybe she's the one who did something bad and is trying to outrun the guilt.

Let's also let go of the idea that it's meeting and falling in love with a man that saves her from her trauma. Let her have a healing arc that doesn't involve a man - a love story can still be there, but it can't be the magic healing balm that fixes her. Make her have to save herself. Give her autonomy to both make her own mistakes, and improve her own situation. Don't let your man go into savior mode - let him get frustrated with her. Let her push him away without him clinging to her in a desperate bid to show her what unconditional love is. Don't let him be a martyr to her trauma.

Women are complicated for many reasons. We have trauma for many reasons. We have mental health issues for many reasons. We may want to escape our past for many reasons. We're angsty and weird for many reasons.

Please pick literally anything other than sexual assault.

[puraiuddo]

༺JazzProwl Fic Recs༻

— brought to you by puraiuddo -

This is by all means not a complete list of banger JP fics! It's my personal favorites—those fics that lodged themselves in my brain for one reason or another and never left.

Hopefully this list satisfies at least some of the sudden influx of interest for JP fics (and given how well rec'ing a fic turned out last time...) But, nah for real, not to make rec'ing fics fake deep or anything, but I think the fandom would be a better place if people were more unapologetically enthusiastic about fics and less afraid to interact with authors. So if you use this list to find some fics you have to promise to leave some unhinged comments! ٩("•̀ᴗ•́")و ̑̑

But before I start, I want to acknowledge the prevalence of potentially stereotypical depictions of Jazz in regards to his speech (❞), criminal/violent/sexual characterization (▾), or backstory/origins (⟲) in the JP/TF fandom. I've attempted to flag fics with the corresponding symbols above, because I'd like to recognize those problems while still rec'ing for a variety of other fantastic qualities. That said, I'm not infallible so please use your own discretion.

I've also tagged fics with "hiatus" if it's been a while between updates, but the author hasn't made a comment—these fics are especially important to interact with, b/c you never know if the author stopped posting b/c they weren't getting any reviews!

Now, without further adieu...

༺♡❦♡❦♡❦♡ -ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ- ♡❦♡❦♡❦♡༻

༺JazzProwl-centric༻

Mistakes on Mistakes Until— by jabberish

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 280,212 - Alt-War AU』

Ricochet's got a bad case of conscience and he's pretty sure it's about to get him killed. (aka I think I've read every defection/ex-Con au and now I'm forced to make my own. Jazz-centric.)

* (づ ᴗ _ ᴗ)づ♡ The crème de la crème of JP fics. I really can't properly articulate the sheer amount of love and respect I have for MOMU other than that if you haven't read it, your life is worse for it. Go read it. Then read it again. Now. (I've read it 4 times. No, I'm not joking) I love all the fics on this list dearly, but MOMU holds a very special place in my heart. Flawless characterization, flawless dynamics, flawless plot, one-of-a-kind writing style... it's got it all. Of note: I've not flagged it despite its premise, because it will expertly subvert your expectations and you need to read it to understand. Bonus: it's got a lot of well-deserved fanart!

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

Untitled Series by Need2Scream

『(2/?) - ffn - Words: 158,064 - War AU - hiatus』

Where the Lonely Ones Roam - 116,327

"Say you have a little faith in me. Just close your eyes and let me lead. Follow me home. Need to have a little trust in me. Just close your eyes and let me lead. Follow me home. To where the lonely ones roam." Eventual Prowl/Jazz

Spark - 41,737 - hiatus

"Chase you deep into the unknown. In my dark, in my dark, you're the Spark."/ "Roam with me, come down to where all of the others fell. Get lost, in the dark to find yourself. Just remember what I said, 'cause it isn't over yet."/SEQUEL to Where the Lonely Ones Roam

*It's not clear by the summary, but the series is essentially about Jazz and Prowl's developing relationship as they overcome war-related trauma, intermingled with a spectacular amount of original lore. See the author's ffn bio for a rundown. The originality and attention to detail in the world building in this AU is awe-inspiring. There are 2 fics in the JP series, but the author has a bunch of other Gen fics set in the same AU and another on ao3. Bonus: some of the Gen fics are Jazz & Prowl-centric and can be read as romantic!

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

Crime in Crystals Series by Aard_Rinn

『(7/?) - ao3 - Words: 258,030 - Crime/Hitman AU - hiatus - ▾ ⟲』

The Hitman - 6,942 - pt 1

Prowl is the last clean cop in Praxus, the final flickering light in the darkness. There are plenty of people who would like to see him snuffed.

2. The Clarification, 3. The Kill, 4. The Capture, 5. The Prime, 6. The Talk, 7. The Chase 8. TBD

*The main plot is broken into 7 separate fics, but it's all one continuous story. Read the whole thing! It's on my all time favorites. It's thrilling, tremendously action packed, and the character dynamics are some of my favorites. It's also hysterical and wholesome and I've reread it a stupid amount of times. Bonus: it's got fanart + there are 5 extra fics, including a Jazz-centric prequel, in the same AU.

༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻༺♡༻

War Eternal Series by Hearts of Eternity

『(3/4) - ffn - 2m? idk it's insane - Bayverse War AU - discontinued - ▾ ❞ ⟲』

Where You and I Collide - 362,090 - prequel

Separately, Jazz and Prowl are like forces of nature- they are uncompromising and uncontrollable. But what becomes of their natures when these two unstoppable forces collide? Will one break the other, or will they both be stronger for it?

As We Come Together - 485,586 - pt 2 - Gen

While the surviving Autobots begin to flock to Earth in response to Optimus' call, trying to find a new home on the strange organic planet called Earth, some unfortunate bots are beginning to realize the price of war may have been too high. Sequel to Time

May We Never Let Go - 408,409 - pt 3 - Gen - d/c

Hell literally lies in wait above Earth as the Cybertronians and Earthlings coexist uneasily, rattled by every attack the Fallen and his master launch on them. With new evil rising, the powers that be on Earth and beyond are gearing up for war.

1. As We Come Together, prequel 2: Surface of the Sun

*Long, convoluted explanation coming up given that this series is obviously a whole different beast compared to likely any other fanfic series you or I have ever encountered in our lives... b/c the author is just superhuman or smth idk...

The series is officially listed as 4 parts (WYaIC, WTWHL, AWCT, MWNLG). Where You and I Collide is the JP-centric prequel to the other 3 Gen fics (that have substantial background JP). WTWHL is technically part 1 of the series, but it's sorta more character-focused ficlets than a continuous story... which is why I didn't specifically list it as a rec even if that makes things more confusing... (ᵕ¬ᴗ¬) Also the author didn't list Surface of the Sun as part of the series, but it's a direct prequel (like WYaIC) starring the Lambo twins and it's... oh it's so good... absolutely shatters my heart that it's been d/c'd.

I've not listed an exact world count, b/c if you want to read every bit of the AU with all its prequels and offshoots (which I would highly recommend and have done)... I'm not gonna do the math for you, sorry. The main 4-part story is ~1.7m+ which I realize is frankly insane and extraordinarily intimidating, but it is so sooo sooooo worth it. The author has created their own fully fleshed out TF world with its own lore and characters and the time and effort they've put into is mind-boggling .

Anywho, despite ultimately being d/c'd, the series is still tremendously readable and nothing about JP is left feeling unbearably unfinished. I also happened to track down the lovely author and beg for a summary of the ending, b/c I'm a bit of a freak and they very kindly provided it so if not knowing how a fic ends bothers you/prevents you from reading, you have the option of getting closure even if you can't have it written out.

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Fathomless by Sroloc_Elbisivni

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 19,949 - Fantasy AU - complete』

Jazz is drowning on dry land on the other side of the world. Once upon a time, before Jazz was born, the Rust Sea covered a swathe of Cybertron bigger than the territory of any city-state except Iacon. The sea had been more powerful than any engine besides the one at the heart of the planet itself, big enough to swallow a metrotitan in its depths, the birthplace of storms. Thing is, none of that was Jazz. He doesn’t remember those days, before he was himself, except in his dreams. And his dreams are terrifying.

*This fic makes me feel some type of way... it gives me shivers. It's so eerie and the premise is so unique. It's also beautifully bittersweet, which is a hard concept to pull off.

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The Judge by SilenceoftheLlamas

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 107,653 - Alt-War AU』

Prowl’s got a secret, and he’d rather be dead in the ground before he let anyone find out about it. Jazz’s got one too, but he’s not as good at hiding it. Prowl is a secret superhero, Jazz is a secret fanboy who doesn’t know that he works with the guy. By night Prowl is the virtuous hero The Judge, but by day he’s just an unassuming tactical officer.

*Jazz and Prowl are sorta painfully adorable in this fic and the JP is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. Plus it's got a really fun premise with lots of shenanigans.

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Black on White on Black Series by pipermca

『(3/?) - ao3 - Words: 86,248 - fix-it, War AU - complete』

Anamnesis - 31,097 - pt 1

When Jazz and his team are lost on a mission, Prowl has to carry on alone. But a discovery a thousand vorn later could turn his life upside down again.

2. The Ghost of the Howling Plains, 3. Pulling Strings

*Super interesting sorta-kinda-fix-it fic and/or explanation for the events and characterizations in IDW. There are 3 stories in the main JP plot line. Bonus: there's 2 "Extras" fics for cut scenes from the main fics.

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Crystal Ghosts Series by Rizobact

『(2/2) - ao3 - Words: 85,688 - Fantasy AU - complete - ⟲』

Enduring as Crystal - 40,517 - pt 1

There were a lot of reasons Prowl visited the library. He never knew the most important one was waiting for him in the garden behind it.

Eternal as Love - 45,171 - pt 2

Prowl promised he would help Jazz, the ghost of the crystal chapel in the garden behind Praxus' central library. He just couldn't anticipate what shape that help would wind up taking.

*Another super unique premise! I love a good historical mystery and the imagery is specularly evocative! And I'm a sucker for the trope... which I can't reveal, because of spoilers.

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Untitled Series by Vaeru

『(2/2) - ffn - Words: 10,766 - War AU - complete - ❞』

Descant - 7,925 - pt 2

G1/Jux compliant. Requiem sequel. Prowl doubted that his desired image of Respected Superior Officer came across very well with a half-scrapped mech clinging to his hand, but he loomed as best as he was able and glared.

*Requiem is Jazz-centric and I'd say more of a prequel to Descant than Descant is a sequel to Requiem... if that makes any sense. Regardless of how you view it or what order you read it, it's fucking brutal. (-‿-“) Bonus: author also wrote another really great fic called Transformers: Juxtaposition which is Lambo twin-centric and OC-centric, but perhaps one of the only OC fics that I've ever enjoyed.

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Domino Milkshake by SilenceoftheLlamas

『oneshot - (1/?) - ao3 - Words: 24,886 - War AU - complete - ❞』

Jazz drunkenly pretends that he's dating Prowl. Only he isn't, and the mech is right behind him.

*It's a fake dating AU... what more can I say? I love the the begrudging developing romance and the meddling friends. Bonus: it's got fanart!

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Hunter's Spark by WandersUnderStarlight

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 43,645 - Alt-War AU - ❞』

Jazz disobeys orders to abandon the ruins of Praxus and runs into one of the Senate's dirty secrets.

*This author also has a few more JP fics that I enjoy like An Offer He Can't Refuse and Long Patrol. I gotta offer aisclaimer though: the fics are... fairly cliche and a bit OOC. Hunter's Spark is much more tame than the other two, though. They're all sorta a guilty pleasure of mine, because it's fun to enjoy Prowl being a bit of a BAMF and Jazz being a bit of a damsel on occasion even if objectively I understand why it's not everyone's cup of tea. ("￣▽￣";)ゞ But the author definitely deserves credit for creative and entertaining premises and a really nice writing style!

༺☆★☆★☆★-ˋˏ ♫ ♡ 𓆩𓆪 ˎˊ-★☆ ★☆★☆༻

༺General༻

Little Brother by Meiza

『oneshot - ffn - Words: 64,542 - War AU - discontinued』

Prowl is infamous for being a logical, nigh emotionaless thinker who's better at battle calculations than interpersonal relationships. How he was roped into taking care of the last survivor of Praxus is anyone's guess.

*Prowl & Bluestreak centric, but Jazz has a solid amount of screentime. The subplot is pre-relationship, co-parenting JazzProwl and it's cute as hell. It's not 'officially' discontinued, but it hasn't been updated since 2010... so... At least it doesn't end in a cliffhanger. (╥﹏╥|||)

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Things We Don't Tell Humans by SineadRivka

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 363,057 - Bayverse War AU - complete』

This was a first for us Autobots; never before have we come in contact with a species like these humans, so eerily similar to our own race and twice as tenacious as Sparklings. The question was, how far can we trust the humans with our culture? Some things have translated between cultures without much effort. Other subjects, however…

*Please note the tags! Also... I'll be honest that I mostly skip to the JP parts and main plot points in this fic as it's about a very ensemble cast and I'm not interested in TF humans ... so I can't entirely vouch for the integrity of the whole thing. (￢ω￢;)

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Echoes of Messatine by MlleMusketeer

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 303,863 - Alt-War AU - complete - ▾ 』

Cybertron hurtles toward war, and only a handful of mecha see it. Not Megatron, whose inflammatory writings gain him agonizing attention from those on high. Not Ratchet, the Iacon Medical Center’s most prized practitioner, whose Dead-End clinic remains the worst-guarded secret on Cybertron. Not Overlord, whose iron hold over Cybertron’s underworld is beginning to falter. Not Orion Pax, whose concern over the sudden silence of one of his favorite writers drives him to take up his hero’s pen. Not Terminus, who only wants to survive. But Trepan and Senator Shockwave both know well what’s coming. One aims to use a defiant miner’s fall to crush the aspirations of the masses. The other wants to use that miner’s triumph to ignite them. Neither much cares about Megatron himself, or his ultimate survival. Therein lies their fatal error.

*Not clear from the summary, but the premise is essentially "what if Megatron got the matrix instead of OP" and how their pre-war lives would have to pan out for them to ultimately switch roles. Just a really fascinating, supremely well-done "what-if" fic, but also probably the weirdest one to put on this particular list, b/c JP turns into megatron/JP at the very, very end... but... I just kinda ignore that development since it happens in like almost literally in the last chapter and you can def read it as friendship up until that point... (¬⤙¬ ᵕ)

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༺Mature༻

*listen... don't @ me. They're definitely saucy, but they're not explicit. Yada, yada... hey minors, don't read these! ...But we all know you will so just don't talk to me or anyone else about it, cool? Cool. (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

Intermission by crabapplered

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 5,049 - War AU - complete - ▾』

As the war stretched on for interminable vorn, Prowl found himself faced time and again with the mounting stress of his position. Many of those times he was forced to face alone, the gear grinding stress sending him to Ratchet for system overhauls and forced defrags. But every so often he'd be fortunate enough to have Jazz on hand, and when he did, well, it didn't take much. Pressing Jazz up against the wall, cramming him into corners, pinning him facedown over Prowl's desk. It didn't matter as long he could keep Jazz still.

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Audition by crabapplered

『oneshot - ao3 - Words: 12,783 - War AU - complete - ▾』

If one were to be delicate, one would say that Jazz and Prowl are incompatible. The blunt truth? 'You just lie there with this blank expression on your face,' he'd been told by his last partner. Signal had stayed longer then most, willing to try since Prowl was so obviously doing his best, interfacing to please his partner and give him what Prowl himself disliked. In the end, though, it hadn't worked. 'You don't like me touching you, you don't like the mess, you don't even like the overload, and half the time I swear you're running economic simulations in your CPU you look that bored. I don't want that. I don't want you miserable, and I don't want me miserable, either.' So why can't Prowl stop wishing?

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That's all, folks.

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ω-)✧ ~Happy reading!

and for the shit tumblr search/tag system, i offer: #jazzprowl #jazzprowl recs #jazz x prowl #jazzprowl fic recs #jazzprowl fanfic recs #tansformers fic recs #tf jazzprowl #tf fic recs

[genericpuff]

This plot point annoyed me so much! I thought she was finally going to open up to Persephone about the reasons why she hated Hades so much, about what he did to her, but no! They just introduced a new yet unnecessary character to the story 🤦🏼‍♀️

What are your thoughts about it?

oh yeah it annoyed the piss out of me too and for one very big reason that is CHRONIC in LO:

It's a solution to a problem Demeter didn't have.

This happens to a lot of characters throughout the comic. They'll have some kind of plot-driven conflict or character-driven flaw, and then it will be solved by something else entirely that had nothing to do with their original problem or doesn't line up with the theme of their storytelling. Minthe had insecurity issues and a toxic relationship with Hades? Just give her a classroom full of children to babysit! Hades had infertility issues? That's fine, Persephone somehow fixes those issues because at the end of the comic they have babies and Hades has his happy ending so it's fine! Hera was in an unhappy relationship with Zeus and had trauma from her past as a victim of Kronos? No problem, just make her an all powerful fertility goddess! Persephone accidentally causes winter which kills possibly thousands of people? Gaia is here to save the day, and also she's the one who makes Persephone return to the Mortal Realm for a couple months with full visitation rights. Apollo is a serial rapist who's attempted murder on several occasions, even against his own father in an attempt to take the throne? Community service, that'll solve it.

Demeter is one of the biggest examples of Rachel's inability of writing an actual cohesive plotline. She writes like the only goal is to come up with new twists to keep people reading each week without ever considering what themes or questions she should be answering throughout. So when she does pose questions, the answers often wind up being severely disconnected because she can't be bothered to actually plan out a plotline with narrative structure, she just needs 'things' to happen. To put it bluntly and simply, she writes like how a 13 year old on Wattpad would write, no actual thinking about the material she's presenting, no consideration for the curtains and what color they are, just "make the things happen so that people will keep reading because that's what writing is!"

Demeter's problem wasn't her failing to understand Persephone. It was people failing to understand her when she had reasonable cause to both be wary of Persephone moving to Olympus as well as Hades and his intentions with her daughter. But because Rachel needs to have the perfect happy ending for her self-insert power fantasy couple, she resorts to gaslighting both Demeter as well as the audience by extension into believing that the solution to Demeter's character arc... is understanding Persephone more.

Like first of all, the moral "people just want to be understood" is way, WAY too "baby's first storyline" at this point in the story especially when we've tried to tackle much bigger topics like sexual assault, and when we know how complex Demeter's backstory is. There's no way she needs to be told by Hebe that people just want to be "understood". She absolutely knows this already, and has been fighting to be understood by her siblings and peers and family for centuries, but of course, everyone sees her as just "the contrarian".

But then the final solution is... the sudden appearance of Demophoon as her long-lost child, and Hades giving her the volcanoes. That's it. She doesn't get to actually become Queen of the Mortal Realm, she never really gets closure over the past 2000 years of abuse from everyone around her, Hades just - like with everyone - buys her affection and she gets a new baby to pour her attention into instead of Persephone and we're all just forced to go along with it for the sake of Rachel's fantasy.

Rachel can't write (￢_￢;)

[physalian]

The Hero with Dead Parents is not Cliché, it’s Necessary

The staggering number of protagonists in sci-fi and fantasy with dead parents grows every single year. Frodo Baggins, Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker (before the retcon in ESB), almost every Disney Prince and Princess, the Baudelaire children. Beyond the realm of fantasy into action, thriller, romance, mystery, slice-of-life, and bildungsromans.

Dead parents, or parent, is the curse of being the hero of the story and for a very good reason:

Parents are inconvenient as f*ck.

Unless the mom and/or dad is the villain of the story or the entire story is about the relationship with the parent/parents, the “dead parent” trope serves many purposes and while it may be “cliché” that doesn’t mean this trope is bad or, in my opinion, overused.

It’s one less liability the hero has to worry about protecting

It’s one less obstacle in the hero’s path to their adventure

It’s one (or two) less characters to find excuses to stay relevant in the story

It’s a juicy backstory a lot of people can relate to

Trauma. Is. Compelling.

It’s an excellent motivation

And their murder is an excellent inciting incident

Living parents and guardians get killed off both for internal plot reasons, and meta writing reasons: Living parents are a pain in the ass to keep up with. You’re stuck with a character your hero should still keep caring about, keep thinking about, keep acting in relation to how their actions will be seen and judged by that parent. That parent becomes an obvious liability by any villain who notices or cares.

Living parents can of course be done well, unless they’re the villain, but they just kind of sit there on the fringes of the plot, waiting around to be relevant again and they kind of come in four flavors:

There when the plot demands for pie and forehead kisses (Sally from Percy Jackson)

A suffocating but well-meaning obstacle in between the character and their independence trying to do right (Abby from The 100, Katniss’ mom from Hunger Games, Spirit from Soul Eater)

A mentor figure (Valka from HTTYD 2, Hakoda from ATLA)

The only rock this character has left (Ping from Kung Fu Panda)

*Notice how many of my examples lost their partners shortly before or during the plot, thus still giving the hero the “dead parent” label.

Most of these are self-explanatory so I’ll say this:  I think this trope gets exhausting when the parents are written out without enough emotional impact on the hero. These are their parents and a lot of the time, the emotional toll of losing them isn’t there, like just slapping a “dead parents” sticker is all you need to justify a character’s tragic backstory and any behavioral issues they might have.

Like, yes, the hero has dead parents, but you still have to tell me what that means to them beyond obligate angst and sadness. When the “dead parents” trope reads as very by-the-numbers, usually the rest of the story is, too.

How present the parents were in the character’s life should be proportional to the death’s impact on the narrative (as with any character you kill off). If they were virtually nonexistent? No need to waste a ton of time. If they didn’t matter to the character before, they don’t need to matter now unless the plot revolves around some knowledge or secret their parent never shared.

Sometimes, the hero’s dead parents are a non issue. Frodo being raised by Bilbo doesn’t impact his character at all. It’s a detail given and tossed away. On the other hand, sometimes the entire centerpiece of the work is revenge/justice/catharsis surrounding the parent’s death—Edward and Alphonse Elric’s entire story is defined by the consequences of trying to bring their mother back from the dead.

As someone who kept one of my protagonist’s parents alive and didn’t make them villains just to spite the trope, I have all the more respect for this enduring legacy of fiction. You can of course keep the parents alive, but I don't think it's seen as lazy or cheating or taking a shortcut just killing them off, so long as you remember that your hero is human and should react to losing them like a real person.

[mikimakiboo]

I've started writing backstories for the Time Travelers gang so I might as well continue

Starting with Dust ! ( I stole the idea of him having a passion for history from @ancha-aus but shhhhhht )

So so so

When Dust was a child he wasn't really the best kid to have, he was kind of a trouble maker, stealing from stores, starting fights at school, disturbing the classes (except history classes, he was actually very invested in this class), bad grades, ... he started smoking at 14 and would sometimes smoke illegal substances that he would acquire at school (as it wasn't a very clean school, but clearly his parents didn't care about what kind of establishment they sent their son to), come back late, stay in the streets, and all things that would earn him a few trips to the police station, tho they weren't very hard on him because he was a kid and they knew he wasn't mean but rather lost as his parents weren't guiding him as they should have

So basically Dust could do practically all he wanted because he knew his parents didn't care about him anyway

His parents were actually pretty tired of him, especially because his little brother was nothing like him, he was very calm, had good grades, was helpful, ... he was everything Dust wasn't, and so his parents only wanted one thing: for Dust to leave so they could keep only his brother

So when Dust turned 18, his parents gave him a suitcase and a bag, and he was out of the house the very next day

He quickly got a job in some fast food as to not stay homeless too long and because he needed to eat so he needed some money, couldn't rely entirely on stealing, so he started working and rented a shitty apartment in a shitty building but at least he had a roof above his head so he didn't bother to look for something better

He worked for two years and at twenty he figured he wanted to do something else, something a least a little better than working at a fast food, something he liked, so he started saving money each month until he had enough to apply to college and study history, the one and only class he always was interested in

So he started studying, working on the side as he couldn't afford to stop working, and was really invested

But unfortunately investment doesn't do everything and money became too tight for him, he couldn't paid both his bills and his classes, so after two years he sadly had to drop out of college and never got a diploma

He however didn't lose his passion and kept watching documentaries and reading books, his dream being saving enough money to travel and discover the runes of the old civilisations

Now talking about trauma

The fact his parents never showed interest in him no matter if he did good or bad and threw him out the moment he turned 18 did affect more than he realizes it because it is the major reason why he always feels like he's not good enough, like he can't be a good company, that people (the tt gang) cannot possibly like him, that's just impossible, his own parents didn't like him so them ??? Impossible

He just doesn't think he's worth it and he is having a hard time accepting that yes, they do love him for himself and not what he could have to offer them, because they don't see him as a waste of space like his parents always did

He's just used to people either not noticing him or being disappointed in him so he now has a very low self esteem and it will take some time to accept that he is lovable (the gang will help him)

[willthespy]

SHORT SOLANGELO ANALYSIS FROM MY NOTES APP

(except it’s mostly in response to fandom)

Honestly, I’ve heard some reasons why people hate Solangelo. And don’t get me wrong; I don’t care that you don’t like a ship, but some of you are ignorant (and biased) and trying to find reasons to hate it.

One i’ve seen is that «they have no shared interests» etc, etc. Since when was that an issue? It wasn’t an issue with any other ship, so why is that an issue with the one canon/main mlm ship we have. And even if that wasn’t said with homophobic intentions, which it definitely doesn’t have to be, it still is odd that it is fine with your ship to have them not share common interests, but when it’s the ‘same case’ with Solangelo or some other canon ship it’s not?

Besides, nobody said they didn’t have any shared interests and nobody said they need to have shared interests. «Nico doesn’t like Star Wars. He hated it.» Oh, sweet gods. He watched all those movies for a reason, first of all. You’re saying he doesn’t like Will even after doing all that??? You’re using that as reasoning??? And even if he didn’t like it at all (gods forbid someone has an opinion not based around/biased by their relationship) that is okay. Especially for neurodivergent people I’ll say that it is okay to be in relationships and still have different interests than your significant other. Same interests ≠ madly in love whatsoever.

In fact, from a sociological/psychological/WHATEVER perspective, a lot of neurodivergent people tend to prefer it if someone doesn’t have the same interests. Yes, this depends per person, but that’s something I’ve noticed happens a lot.

The «they hate each other» argument is used, referring to their banter, and I love (read: hate) how those same people still like Percabeth. Like, okay, now give me the real reasons you don’t like it, without grasping for fake ones that don’t actually match up with your idea of a relationship. The bias is biasing.

I think the most important part of Solangelo is the fact that they can let their guards down around one another. They always have those walls up around others - though in different ways - and they don’t always have to be like that in front of each other. They’re also there to protect and care for the other, much unlike the fanon idea where Will often only cares for Nico. They aren’t there to fix one another, they’re there for each other.

Note that they still both have some walls up in TSATS! That doesn’t make their relationship any less real, but I think that is also very much to be expected from characters who have actively had to deal with trauma. And even then, even without knowing everything, they still care and are there for each other, no matter how frustrating it may be to be out of the know.

They’re also not «complete opposites». In TSATS we literally read that they have more similarities than meets the eye (which can be read as the light-darkness symbolism.) They balance each other out and they’re ALLOWED to argue. Did you guys know that? It’s important to me that you know that.

Did you know characters/people can argue and then solve the situation/argument using healthy communication? Shocking, I know.

I do think the start of Solangelo wasn’t smoothly written whatsoever. Will was kind of used as a puppet and obviously put there ‘for Nico.’ Do I think Will should get more character separate from his relationship/his father? Yes. Do I think he has no character at all? No. But also… It’s a children’s book. You can’t expect the best written character in history from a book written for middle schoolers.

They wouldn’t be the first canon ship with a bad start, so I’m not too fed up about that. If I would ask for anything, I’d like a book/short story about Will as a character (his backstory/just anything) or just a story in which they grow more in their relationship and as separate characters (though not broken up).

My point mostly is this; if you really don’t like it, you don’t have to interact or read or do anything, really. (Yay!) Don’t use the Solangelo tag for your hatred. Especially not if it’s an unproblematic ship.

[trianglesimpfordpines]

I do wonder sometimes, especially after some similar discourse happened around Across the Spider-Verse, if part of why some characters get such a weird reception is because some people cannot suspend their disbelief about the fantastical elements of a fantasy or sci-fi story.

A lot of Ford's trauma is explicitly fantastical in nature. Abusive relationships are real, but Ford was in an abusive relationship with a literal demon and a lot of the abuse involved him being demonically possessed against his will. People go missing or get stranded away from home in real life, but Ford got stranded in another universe.

And the speculative-fiction parts of Ford's backstory can't really be ignored or interpreted as purely a metaphor for some other more mundane trauma; the franchise canon draws specific attention to them at face value. Ford in J3 talks about dealing with aliens and missing breathable air. He got a metal plate surgically installed in his head to keep his abusive ex from literally reading his mind and taking over his body.

Even outside of the context of trauma alone, a lot of Ford's character has to do with the supernatural elements of the show. His literal job before he disappeared was studying the supernatural. His presence in the show before he comes back is conveyed through a journal that's basically a compilation of notes about wacky cryptids and ghosts and monsters and whatnot.

Stan has a lot of trauma as well, but his trauma is almost entirely mundane in nature. Abusive and neglectful parents, bullying in school, poverty and homelessness, having a family member who went missing. Sure, the family member in question went missing in another universe, but from Stan's perspective, the effect would be about the same if Ford had just gone into the woods and never come back or disappeared at sea.

Every awful thing Stan has been through is something a lot of people in real life can not just relate to on an emotional level, but on a literal level. A lot of people have experienced the exact same traumas as Stan. But nobody in real life has experienced the exact same traumas as Ford, because Ford's story relies on the parts of the setting that don't exist in real life. You can't remove all the supernatural stuff from Ford's backstory.

And I wonder if this ties into why some people are so adamant in refusing to accept that Ford even has any real trauma, or that he's been a victim of abuse. Because the kinds of horrible things he's been through simply do not have a real-world equivalent. People don't get possessed by demons or thrown into another dimension in real life. And some people just...don't seem to be capable of accepting that in-universe, in the context of the setting, these things do happen and can be pretty traumatizing for the characters.

Basically what I'm saying is that if you want to be able to understand and meaningfully engage with a story with fantasy and/or sci-fi elements, you need to be able to accept those elements at face value and treat them as real and important parts of the story. Gravity Falls isn't real, it doesn't take place in the real world, and it doesn't adhere to the laws of reality. You need to be able to engage with the characters in the context of the world they were created to exist in.

[eyesforahead]

Mxtx x male reader

A cross over.

When a modern era young man transmigrated in PIDW that has crossovered with other Novel's such as MDZS & TGCF thing's are bound to be both fun & traumatizing!

-----

Name & Description are different but originally this was on my ao3 some things are arranged to suit it being an X reader. My ao3 is Elijah_Ezra.

TRANSLATION MAY NOT HE ACCURATE.

-- MAIN SHIPS WILL NOT HE CHANGED ( such as hualian , wangxian. )

-- SHEN YUAN IS NOT HERE.

shang qinghua is. I have favorite's.

-- Canon, what canon plot line?

-- Don't like, don't read.

-- Hate towards me or anyone is not tolerated.

-- This is a crossover.

-- A lot of spelling mistakes probably.

-- No upload schedule.

-- What Ships is reader in? I'm aiming for it to be a Liu Qingge X Reader however if this is not liked I take recommendations as well.

THIS IS PIDW TECHNICALLY NOT SVSSS.

• SHEN JIU'S PAST!!!!

• TW FOR THAT. PLEASE, STAY SAFE.

Shen (Name) groans and sighs before getting up from the chair to grab his sword Bǎohù

It was time for the Disciple selection..

He flew down and was immediately greeted by the peak lords he was well liked and loved unlike his elder brother Shen Jiu or also known as Shen Qingqiu.

That’s right he (Last name) ( First Name) , A lazy modern guy , died and transmigrated into PIDW not only that as an OC insert the scum villains younger brother!

Airplane , what kind of messed up tragic sad backstory did you need to give Jiu-Ge?!

Naturally they grew up together which meant his childhood sucked too!

Granted not that bad compared to him as that Qiu Jianluo took a very good liking to him and loved his naïve personality he was rarely beaten.

Which now knowing WHAT Qiu Jianluo liked and was thinking made him want to scream cry and rip off his skin to erase the feeling the skin that was touched by him.

What seemed liked innocent hugged were actually very much not innocent.

years later and after much trauma he became a peak lord!

So, that's that! Yippie hooray for you.

The (History of God's and Ghost's) "神与鬼的历史" (Shén yǔ guǐ de lìshǐ) peak lord!

It is the same ranking as Qing Jing Peak.

In this peak they learned about God’s and Ghost’s that are hidden and roaming around somewhere.

Their cultivation was communication with them.

Some Ghosts would occasionally help them when in need by lending them their strength.

In turn they would also help the ghost move on.

However, this is not safety assured as ghosts can be deceiving.

Shen (Name) would know himself, he’s half possessed by one called SYSTEM who forces him to do certain shit!

{ HOST, QIU JANLUO DID NOT NEED HIS DICK! }

Shen (Name) grimaces remembering that memory when the SYSTEM took control of his body and just chopped off someone’s dick.

‘ You didn’t need to use my body! ‘

{ D: Then, who else would SYSTEM posses? Your brother? No, thanks. }

‘ Die. ‘

{ SYSTEM will die when HOST 002 dies. }

Ah, right. Did he mention the author transmigrated with him?

Airplane Shooting towards the sky transmigrated into Shang Qinghua.

“ Didi, are you alright? You’re frowning. “ Shen Qingqiu asked snapping him out of his thoughts.

He hummed and looked towards the disciples hoping that today he will meet the protagonist Luo Binghe .

Yue QingYuan nodded at him and asked if he will choose a disciple.

Right, He himself rarely accepted new disciples they had to be specific and needed to be blessed or gained the attention of a god or ghost.

But as he looks down no one seems to have the veins that are gold or red.

Gold means a god has noticed them.

Glowing Gold means they have been blessed by one.

Red means a ghost has either noticed them or blessed them.

It was surprising to learn ghosts can bless people.

A ghost’s blessing boosts up your QI similar to the gods blessing but a ghost blessing also gives you luck while God’s give you some protection but not luck that would be on you!

Suddenly again he heard Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu fighting which is normal. However, they were fighting over a disciple.

He didn’t feel like getting involved and zoomed out before Shang Qinghua whispered to him.

‘ Bro, Go with Shen QIngqiu that’s Luo Binghe he took! ‘

he glared at Shang Qinghua for not telling him sooner and ran after Shen Jiu.

MEANWHILE…

SO, IT BEGINS TOUGHT A MAN WEARING SIMPLE WHITE ON A THRONE HIGH ABOVE WHERE NO ONE CAN REACH HIM.

THE man was beautiful with long brown hair and warm eyes.

The male wished he can help the poor soul yet, he is not allowed to interfere only drop some helpful information nothing more…

---

His peak was often described as a picturesque peak ( he was very proud of his peak ) adorned with tranquil ponds. The water is crystal clear, reflecting the beauty of the lily pads floating gracefully on the surface.

Koi fish gracefully glide through the water, their vibrant colors adding a touch of elegance.

The croaking of frogs adds a harmonious melody to the scene. The air is filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers, and the sight of fluttering butterflies brings a sense of joy.

The overall ambiance feels inviting and pristine. Even the teachers and classes exude warmth and friendliness. It's a place where one can find solace and inspiration.

Near the peak lord's house you'll see a more beautiful building. The building is a shrine. Inside of it is a statue of the main god they learn about.

However, the statue isn't alone along with it is the God's husband.

The crown prince and also now heavenly emperor Xie Lian & his husband Crimson Rain Sought Flower Hua Cheng.

If you're lucky enough (or you're Shen (Name) ) you'll see silver butterflies flying around.

It make's a wonderful painting , silver Butterflies in the moonlight.

From the outside the shrine has an ornate and elaborate design, with intricate carvings.

Inside the shrine, you'll find a serene and reverent atmosphere. 

To the side inside the shrine is a long table where offerings and candle's are lit.

His peak is always calm and right now that's where he wants to be not in his olders brother bamboo house with tension so high he's surprised the kid Luo Binghe hasn't fainted.

' It's the tea scene where he pours hot boiling tea on him ' he thinks.

He wishes he can move from his brother's side yet he can't.

The tea is poured , the child gasps and the master leaves looking back once at his brother.

Shen (Name) immediately goes to the poor disciple.

He grabs the towel from the table and gently wipe away the hot tea.

"I'm sorry, please don't mind my brother."

The child looks up naive brown eyes shining at him.

"N-no shifu it was this Disciples fault."

The peak lord can't help how his heart melts.

Shen (Name) from the past hated this scene and didn't understand why Shen Qingqiu did this. The Shen (Name) who he is now understands.

Luo Binghe's eye's and hair are similiar to Qiu Jianluo.

The child's name make it even worse. Luo Binghe..Luo...

Ning Yingying didn't help either immediately calling him A-Luo...

... something Qiu Haitang used to call her brother Luo-Ge...

Still, it's no excuse to what happened to this child but he can be sympathetic.

He'll show him around himself and leave he can't be absent from his peak but he can visit his brother and this child.

Maybe, in the way he'll see his cute shidi Liu Qingge.

Dropping off Luo Binghe at his dorm's in which he knows he won't be staying there longer Shen (Name) leave's and goes to the shrine.

He needs some advice..

He knows the god probably won't respond but he'll feel his presence and that's enough.

[sundrop-writes]

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson

Season One, Episode Two: "Hawk and Dove"

Summary:

Even though Dick denies that he needs your help, you can't let other innocent people - like Hank, Dawn, and Rachel - get caught in the crossfire of his stubbornness and annoyance toward you.

So when you have a vision of Dick fleeing back to some of the only friends he knows, you don't hesitate to chase him. And yes - you make sure to bring coffee this time.

Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 2.

Word Count: 6,000

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns - I still want to warn that some people might accuse this character of being an OC/might consider this an OC, but the reader received a great reception in the last chapter, so you guys might like her uniqueness if you read this; as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; and other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader actually has a vision in this one (and there is more descriptions of her visions in general) (looking back, I wish I would have opened the first chapter on a vision of the apocalypse but oh well); the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; this fic uses Y/N; this whole chapter (and this whole series, really) involves intense criticism of Dick's character - the Titans version specifically - so if you don't like that and if you don't like the Titans characterization of him, then turn back now; mentions of canon-typical violence; non-graphic descriptions of Dick having an infected wound as a child (speaking to his characterization); mentions of non-canon character deaths - happening in non-canon branching paths in the reader's visions (things that don't come true, but have the opportunity to come true if she doesn't interfere); mentions of gun violence; lots of stereotypical monogamous jealousy going on here - some canon, and some not (not the kind of thing my poly ass typically writes, but it does well with Dick's toxic personality, so I like it) - Hank being jealous of Dick and Dawn's reunion, and Dick trying to evoke jealousy from the reader over his past relationship with Dawn (though I have made it clear in the text that Dick doesn't have feelings for Dawn anymore); Dick accidentally pointing a gun at the reader (because of mistaken identity); this time there is equal pining and horniness between Dick and the reader (mostly because I am a simp for Dick in that navy button down shirt, unf); mentions of Dick's past trauma (the death of his parents) and his PTSD reactions because of it; mentions of Dick and the reader having sex in the past and their sexual desire toward each other and some mild sexual themes, but there is no explicit smut in this chapter (there might be some in future chapters); the reader gets injured in a fight with The Family; mentions of Dawn's canon injuries and subsequent coma; I believe that's it for this part.

A/N: I actually wanna say that this chapter was complete and ready to be edited in my drafts, and because of the comments and feedback I got on the last chapter, I actually went in and made some additions to this chapter. People really seemed to like the banter between Dick and the reader character, and there wasn't much of it in this part, so I made sure to add more of it - because if you guys tell me that you like a certain aspect of a fic, I will play up that aspect in future chapters or in future fics. That is why commenting matters. Writers listen to your detailed feedback and put it into future stories - we aren't just looking for comments to stroke our egos. So if you guys like this chapter and the banter in it, know that you helped shape it from what it originally was!

...

Dick had basically told you to fuck off - he didn’t want to be involved, but he already was. 

The events were already set into motion around him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it now. So - rather than turn around and go all the way back home, you had simply gotten a hotel room in Detroit, waiting for him to ask for your help, or waiting for some signal that he would truly need you. 

You fell into an easy sleep, and soon - that signal came to you. 

… 

A rooftop. Two old friends. Tense smiles under a beautifully bright day that didn’t suit them.

“She killed someone?” Dawn nods toward Rachel, who is sitting beside the large dove house that Hank built, looking at the gentle animals in quiet fascination. She feels peaceful in their presence. “She’s just a kid.” 

That’s what he wants. He wants everyone to underestimate her. 

“Whoever they are, they’ve got people in the department.” Dick replies. 

He’s talking about the people who kidnapped her right out from under his nose - the ones who nearly succeeded in making her a ritual sacrifice. Just one of many forces that were coming after her. One of many forces that seek to harm her. 

“We needed somewhere safe to regroup.” He adds on. “And think about what I’m gonna do.” 

Somewhere safe? 

“What about Bruce?” Dawn poses. 

Of course Dick wouldn’t go fleeing back to him. Daddy issues. He thinks of Dawn and Hank as his true family. The Titans have always been his true family. Since losing the Circus, it’s the only family that he’s known. 

Oh. Somewhere safe. Of course. 

Dick visibly shudders at the thought of going back to Bruce. “He’s no good with kids.” 

That's an understatement. 

“A cop, huh?” Dawn gives him a small grin. “That’s one I never would’ve figured.” 

Well, he seeks out order. But he's a stubborn, bull-headed person who demands to be the leader at all times. He’s terrible at following rules that he hasn't made - terrible at falling under someone else's authority. He thinks that being a police officer is bringing forth real justice. 

It was never meant to last. 

Dick knew this. He doesn’t like admitting his own faults. So, he rushes to change the subject. 

“How are you?” He asks Dawn, clearly curious. 

It’s almost as though he wants her to say that her life has been notably worse without the Titans. Just like his has been. 

It's been too long since he's spoken to her. He loves running without looking back. It’s something that he’s very good at. 

“We’re great.” Dawn answers, flashing him a smile. She's insistent on this ‘we' - reminding Dick that she's not alone. She's not a single person anymore. “Hank’s feeling the life a little. Age waits for no man, and all that.”

Of course. This should have been obvious to him, but he’s a little too absorbed in his own problems to consider it. 

“How bad?” Dick asks the obvious question. 

“Two fractures, three concussions in the last year, and a herniated disc.” Dawn replies honestly. 

Dick has been through worse. He acts like it’s nothing, but it’s not. He’s the type of man to attempt to put a band-aid on a bullet wound. While traveling with the Circus, he stepped on a nail once, and tried to hide it from his parents - pulled it out himself and only told them when the wound began to fester and get infected. 

Fiercely independent and stubborn, even back then. 

“Jesus, Dawn.” 

Yet, he acts as though this is surprising. He acts as though this isn’t the norm when you exchange your bodily safety for the safety of others. 

“We’re still good out there, Dick.” She presses, sounding as though she is trying to convince herself. They need the team. That’s what’s missing. The downfall of her confidence. “Really good. But one slip-up-” 

“You should quit.” Dick declares this firmly, confidently. He always believes his own authority as fact. “You both should.” 

Deep down, he knows that both Dawn and Hank will never quit. Like himself, they do not take well to ‘retirement’. They will die doing this job or they will find quieter ways to keep doing good - but they will never rest. Rest feels too selfish. 

“That’s the plan.” Dawn replies. It feels like a lie coming out of her mouth, and she smiles around the discomfort of it. “As soon as we take out these gun suppliers he’s obsessed with. One more chance to do some good and then he promised he’s out.”

Suddenly, there was a flash of something else. 

Guns. Piles and piles of guns. Dawn being shot in the head from behind. Bright red blood soaking into white hair. A sneak attack while they have their guard down. Hank, overwhelmed by grief, unable to consider his own life as enemies surround him. 

He is forcefully pulled off her limp body. 

His screams bounce off the concrete walls as he is chained up and tortured. 

Things never go according to plan, do they? 

Dick gives her a sharp look as he considers the possibilities. Almost as if, due to his paranoia, he too can see the future. 

He wants to offer his help, or tell them simply not to go, but Dawn steals the words off his tongue. 

“You could help us out.” She remarks brightly. 

Yes, he could. He should. 

Another flash of similar events. 

This ends just as bloody. Similar howls of pain echo through the warehouse. Hank is limping as Dawn supports him, but all three of them are alive. They all make it back to the apartment alive. 

Dick is working on his personal definition of justice. It’s not exactly clean. (But it works.) 

But still, he hesitates. 

“I’m out of the life, Dawn.” 

Liar. 

Suddenly, Hank appears. He is surprisingly quiet for someone so large. 

“The hell are you doin’ here, Dick?” He barks out the name like poison - in a harsh, jutting way that many others have done before him. 

Everyone becomes tense. It’s an unwelcome reunion. 

“Hank.” Dawn speaks his name curtly - a reminder. Mind your temper. 

“I had a situation.” Dick tries to explain himself, being far too vague. 

But again, how does one cleanly summarize encountering a young girl with powers like Rachel’s and being so unsure how to handle it? And of course, Dick hates to admit being unsure of himself. He hates to admit needing help. He prefers to phrase things delicately - as though this were a choice, a fun day trip, rather than the desperate fleeing that it truly is. 

“Nice little reunion you got goin’ here.” Hank says sarcastically. 

“You know it’s not like that.” Dick replies. 

He is right, but poor at defending himself against Hank’s flare of jealousy. He is so walled off that he doesn’t dare to admit he doesn’t have eyes for Dawn anymore, even in the slightest. That relationship was nice, but those feelings died out long ago. He simply can’t see her in a romantic light anymore because his heart belongs to someone he believes could never want him in return. 

Follies for another time. 

“Sure looks like it to me.” Hank grunts in return. 

“Hank.” Dawn says his name sharper this time, capturing his attention as he stares at Dick with fire burning in his eyes. 

She nods toward Rachel, who is staring at all of them with confusion. 

It’s her. She’s the reason why we’re all here. She’s the reason we’re all going to be alive years from now. 

“What the fuck?” Hank is confused. Reasonable. 

“Can we just go back inside, please?” 

Good idea. 

… 

You woke up in a cold sweat, fumbling around numbly to turn on the lamp of the hotel room that you were staying in. Having your mind widen across the astral plane could be absolutely exhausting. 

Of course Dick had gone back to them. 

Looks like you were headed to DC. 

…

“Dawn, you can’t hit this job. Look at the number of security contractors here-” 

“Come on, don’t change the subject.” 

Dawn was cut off from speaking any further by a loud thud coming from the front door. Something almost akin to a knock. Hank (who had gone out to pick up some beer) had a key, so - that definitely wasn’t him. Rachel was in the guest room watching Game of Thrones - 

Dick and Dawn exchanged a look, both thinking the same thing. 

There was someone at the door. Someone unannounced.

And whoever was at the door might be someone looking for Rachel - someone seeking to harm her. In the kind of silent communication that had only been developed over years of working together as a team, Dick gave Dawn a nod and she calmly raised from her chair to go and check on Rachel. And then he grabbed his service pistol, flicking the safety off and cocking it - he swiftly walked to the front door, and while pointing the gun at whoever was outside. 

It was a clear warning, and also ready to fire if the person tried barging in. Dick opened the door slowly, and peered into the hallway, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he waited to see who it was. 

You. 

It was you. 

He let out a sharp breath of relief when the information fully penetrated his brain - the fact that it was you standing there, and not someone intending to do him or Rachel harm. Not an enemy. 

You were standing there as innocently as ever, wearing a red dress with a beautiful paisley pattern on it - still sporting those same brown leather boots and that same cozy jacket. Again, you looked so damn beautiful, and it shouldn’t have been comforting, and Dick shouldn’t have been filled with want. You were holding a paper tray full of coffee cups - which you had pressed against your breast for balance, and in the other hand, you had a large brown bag that seemed to be full of pastries from the smell. 

“Fuck.” He swore sharply, his arm still holding the gun up stiffly - his body still filled with the conflicting fight or flight response pumping through him, unanswered. 

You let out a bright laugh at this, seemingly amused by Dick’s tense aura. 

“Your greetings get more pleasant everytime I see you, Dick.” You said, nodding toward the gun that was still extended in your direction. 

He let out another tense breath, and forcefully unlocked his forearm then, in order to put the gun down. He put the safety back on and tucked it into the back of his waistband as he opened the door fully to let you inside. 

“You really are such a warm and welcoming person.” You added on, sarcasm ripe in your voice. 

“You’re an asshole.” Dick replied, still feeling the ache of a fight or flight response tearing through him as he tried to calm down. 

He knew that you hadn’t meant to scare him - or maybe you had, seeing as you hadn’t apologized, and seemed to find the whole thing entirely amusing. But at least you weren’t someone that he actually needed to shoot. So that was a plus. 

“I am not.” You replied snarkily, stepping past Dick and making your way into the apartment. “I’m nice. You told me that next time I should bring coffee, and I did. That’s the farthest thing from being an asshole.” 

“Dick, what’s going on?” Dawn called out, stepping out from the guest room with Rachel hot on her heels. 

Realization spread across her features when she saw you placing your goodies on the counter as Dick closed and locked the front door. 

“Y/N,” Dawn smiled, walking over to give you a hug after you had set everything down. 

You embraced her tightly for a moment before she pulled away with a smile. Dick rolled his eyes at this - still annoyed at your presence. He would never admit it, but he was upset that Dawn was much happier to see you than she had been when he had arrived. 

“Another friend?” Rachel asked, hovering at the edge of the kitchen, slightly hesitant of you. 

“A good friend.” Dawn confirmed, shining her smile toward Rachel. “Rachel, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is-” 

“Rachel. Hi.” You cut off Dawn as she made the introduction, giving a gentle wave toward Rachel while she nodded shyly at you. 

“A friend who’s not supposed to be here.” Dick added on gruffly. 

“Grumpy grumps don’t get danishes.” You said, holding up the large brown paper bag. 

Dick sighed and rolled his eyes, wanting to protest about you distracting from the larger point with pastries - but technically, he had asked you to bring them. 

“We’ve got… a medium vanilla latte for Dawn,” You pulled the cup out of the tray, now doling out the coffee orders. It was something that you knew partially from memory, and partially from the omnipotence that came with your powers.

She took it with a quiet ‘thank you’. 

“A small black coffee with extra sugar for Rachel.” You offered her the paper cup, and she loosened up on her hesitance toward you, eagerly leaning in to grab it. She smiled at the fact that you knew her preference and didn’t question her for drinking coffee at such a young age. 

“Thanks.” She said brightly. 

“A large black coffee for grumpy pants.” You said, holding out a cup towards Dick. 

When he reached for it, you teasingly swiped it back before you actually gave it to him, and he heaved out another sigh. 

“Are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here?” He asked sharply as he popped open the lid on the cup and took a sip. 

You decided to ignore him. 

“And an Americano for Hank.” You went on speaking about the coffee, rather than answering Dick’s question. “What kind of sociopath drinks watered down espresso anyway?” 

“He-” Dawn spoke up, about to tell you that Hank was at the store, not even there to enjoy it while it was still hot. But then, there was the sound of lock and key in the door and it came bursting open. 

“Dawn, I got your stupid fru-fru coconut ice cream. I had to go to three different stores for it, and-” 

When Hank saw everyone gathered in the kitchen, including the surprising addition of you, he glared as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

“Well, isn’t this a real goddamn-” 

“A real goddamn summer camp.” You cut him off, literally stealing the words out of his mouth. 

“God, I fucking hate it when you do that.” Hank sighed, a visible stiffness running through him - similar to the way Dick looked when you said ominous things. He was creeped out and defensive at the same time. 

“Would a pecan cinnamon roll make you feel better?” You posed, pulling a smaller bag out of the bag of pastries and offering it to him. 

“You know, you always were my favorite.” He replied, quickly changing his tune as he came to grab the treat from you, a snarky smile spreading across his lips. 

Dick reached for the brown bag sitting on the counter to get one of those danishes you had mentioned. You saw this out of the corner of your eye, and you snatched it away from him. You had meant what you said. He tensed up visibly but didn’t argue. 

Dawn giggled, pointedly looking between the two of you before she reached into the bag herself - of course, only for you to slide it closer to her. 

Dick sighed harshly and tried to move on from the subject. “Now, are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here?” 

…

It wasn’t long before Dick sequestered you away, demanding answers. He dragged you into Dawn and Hank’s bathroom, actually. This left Dawn to awkwardly fill the space with Rachel, who was wondering who you were, and was asking more questions as she sensed the tension between you and Dick. Meanwhile, Hank scarfed down his pecan bun without a single care about the circumstances of your visit now that he was fed. 

You sat on the edge of the bathtub with your arms crossed, looking at Dick with firm calculation, just like you always did, waiting for him to speak. He shoved his hands in his pockets - something that made his whole stance tense and broad and horribly appealing. It was something that reminded you that he had stayed perfectly fit since you had last seen him - and he had nothing but fine, firm muscles under that shirt. 

You forced yourself to focus as he stiffened his jaw and stared right back at you. 

“Well?” He scoffed. 

“‘Well’ what, Grayson?” You nagged back, knowing fully well what he meant. 

He sharply rolled his eyes. That seemed to be a reaction that you invoked from him quite frequently. 

“Why the hell did you follow me?” He sighed, his breath too tired to be as fully demanding as he intended. 

You wondered when the last time he had slept was. He was someone who wore insomnia strangely well, especially considering that Bruce had driven him to be sleepless since his teen years. It was something that he was accustomed to by now, so he never got the ‘bags under eyes’, ‘half dead’ thing that most other people did when they didn’t sleep. He simply looked like himself. 

You hated how much internal destruction and self abuse suited him. 

“Who says I followed you?” You replied, your natural instinct toward snark acting up again. “Maybe I just felt like dropping by. Dawn and Hank are my friends, too.” 

You almost added on ‘apparently they like me more than they like you, anyway’ - but you didn’t feel the need to kick him so badly when he was already down. 

Dick let out a quiet growl, reaching up to firmly pinch the bridge of his nose with his finger and a thumb. 

Already, you were wearing his patience thin. 

You knew that you couldn’t tell him the truth. 

One thing you knew for certain - Dick Grayson was a control freak. It was something that had been carved into him by trauma and fully solidified by years of training with Bruce. 

That night, so long ago - having his parents slip out from his grasp when he had been so young, while performing a routine that they were known for courageously doing without a safety net. A routine that they were so certain of and knew so well, having never factored in the act of murderous sabotage that ultimately killed them - it made Dick want to obsessively control every single aspect of his life and everyone else’s around him. 

Not only did he want to help those around him avoid danger, but he wanted the people around him to behave exactly how he imagined that they should at all times. 

He was constantly on the lookout for frayed ropes - for the unexpected variables that might be the downfall of someone that he loved. He felt that his parents’ death had been his fault, that he hadn’t been diligent enough that night, so he needed to be hypervigilant in every other aspect of his life to keep more people from dying. 

It was part of the reason that you bothered him so much. You were always unexpected - always a wild variable that he had to chase down. Whether it was your actions, your words, or your reactions to the things that he did and said - he felt like he could never predictably nail you down, and he absolutely fucking hated it. (It was probably also one of the reasons that he got such a fantastic release from fucking you - but that was a box of emotional issues he was not yet willing to open.) 

But - being the control freak that he was - he liked to try and control the outcome of your visions. 

Yes, you did see the future in your visions. And yes, the version of that future that you saw could sometimes be changed. It was part of the reason that you tried to interfere to stop bad things. You had seen many things before that had never come true - both good things and terrible things. 

But you had warned Dick time and time again that the future is not random. You never saw simple flashes of random possible outcomes and one of those realities might come true. No - you saw people’s intentions. You saw the results of the choices that people make. 

If someone intended to commit a murder - you would see death. If they changed their mind - you would see life. If someone interfered to stop that murder - the future could change in a lot of strange ways because of it. 

Life is a winding path with a lot of branches to it, and when someone makes a choice, some of those branches die off. 

Dick Grayson’s controlling, all mighty, ‘need to interfere’ mindset certainly had a way of changing the future. He constantly felt the need to use the information from your visions to force people into making the ‘right’ choice. But sometimes, on the path we choose to avoid our fate, we run headfirst into it. 

You were never going to tell him - but Dick and his controlling nature had gotten people killed before. 

You had discovered over time that it was better to simply not tell him things - to hold back information until it was the right time for him to hear it. 

“Do you actually enjoy being irritating?” Dick rasped harshly at you. “Or is it just something that you’re good at?” 

You shrugged. “Probably both.” 

He let out another stiff breath. 

“Look, I’m here for Rachel.” You said, trying to correct course. “She’s mourning, she’s confused, her powers are out of control. She needs someone to help guide her. Someone who might be able to show her how to keep her powers under control.” 

“O-kay.” Dick said, clearly dubious, not fully convinced. He looked at you with his brows firmly knit, and you felt the need to further convince him. 

“Look, I’m not stalking you if you think that’s what it is.” You added on. “I had a vision, I saw you and Dawn on the roof-” 

“Okay, okay, I get it now.” Dick smirked sarcastically, crossing his arms firmly over his chest, making his biceps bulge inside of his button down shirt in a way that was far too appealing. 

Focus - you reminded yourself. Focus. 

“What?” You replied, genuinely confused. 

“You don’t like me spending time with Dawn.” He declared, continuing to smirk at you as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

More than anything, this left you utterly fucking confused. 

“What?” You chuckled, repeating the word like a gaping parrot - a nervous, awkward edge in your voice. 

You liked Dawn. She was one of your best friends. 

And you didn’t give a rat’s ass if Dick and Dawn spent time together. Especially because you knew that Dick coming here was him fleeing to a friend while in crisis, not him looking for a hookup. Especially not while Dawn and Hank were together. Dawn was nothing if not intensely loyal. 

And nothing would have happened while Hank was in the apartment. You had never seen Dick and Hank fight - but Hank was just a bit bigger, and because of his upbringing, he had absolutely no qualms about fighting dirty, even when he was fighting a friend. So you knew who you would bet on in that fight. 

So - what the hell was Dick talking about? 

Even with your strange sense of omnipotence, you couldn’t tell at the time - Dick was baiting you. Hard. He wanted you to flip out, to get jealous. 

It was the emotionally stunted thing to do, but he wanted to see some sense that you cared. 

At least Hank going full cave-man mode upon seeing Dick meant that he thought what he had with Dawn was precious and worth protecting. It meant that he saw Dick as a threat. 

When you continued to stare at Dick with nothing but confusion, gaping like a fish, he flailed, realizing what a terrible move this was. And for some stupid reason, instead of dropping the subject altogether, he dug himself deeper into the hole. 

“You know, the thing with me and Dawn is all in the past.” He said, mentally squirming, waiting to see how you would react. “There’s really nothing going on between us.” 

“Yeah.” You smoothed your lips into a firm line, completely uncaring about this line of conversation. “Good for you.” 

Perhaps mistaking the annoyance in these words as the jealousy that he was so urgently seeking, his tone completely changed then. Like a child throwing a tantrum, he had gotten the negative energy that he wanted from the interaction - so he kept on digging in. 

“Okay, you know what?” He snapped. “If you’re not gonna tell me why you’re really here, then I’m just gonna have to assume that you’re bullshitting.” 

“Oh, I’m bullshitting?” You replied, resisting the urge to break into a grin. 

He had seen solid proof of your powers on many occasions. He had seen you do things that couldn’t be proven by science. So why was he only accusing you of ‘bullshitting’ right now?

“Yes.” He replied stoically. “You didn’t see anything - you don’t actually know anything. You don’t know shit. You’re probably just guessing, and making shit up as you go along and hoping people will believe you.” 

“Okay.” You shrugged. 

You were unphased by this declaration. You knew by now to trust your visions - even if Dick was revoking that trust. You knew that you had solid information, and if you didn’t follow it, the lives of the people that you loved were at risk. 

You guessed that this was just Dick throwing a tantrum because you wouldn’t share that information with him. 

Dick ground his teeth. Unconsciously, he was still intensely frustrated that he hadn’t gotten more of a reaction out of you. Whether it was the information that he was looking for - or some greater sense of anger or urgency that he felt when you were around. But he needed something. He needed to know that you still felt something because of him.

You were always so damn calm. Far too calm for his liking.

“You’re just guessing.” He pressed on. “It’s not that hard to know I would come here. You just fucking followed me because-” 

“So you’re saying that all the military tactics Bruce taught you never paid off, and you’re intensely predictable when fleeing under pressure?” You chuckled, pointing out the flaws in his own logic. 

Dick flinched. 

He hated how uncomfortable your words made him. Squirming in that discomfort - he went low. 

“And you’re admitting that you’re just a bullshit carnival psychic like your mother was?” 

It was a tender wound. 

The moment that your face fell - shifting from mild amusement at your own joke to intense pain and hurt - Dick’s insides recoiled with regret. 

“Y/N-” He sighed. 

“Nope.” You cut him off sharply, shoving past him. 

He let you, finally allowing you to escape the tense air of the bathroom so you could go out and properly catch up with Dawn while drinking your coffee. 

… 

No matter how angry you were with him, you couldn’t let him die. 

Even as you laughed and chatted with Dawn, and got to know Rachel a bit, you couldn’t get the flashes of horrifying possible futures out of your mind. 

… 

Where is Dick Grayson? Where is Dick Grayson? Where is he? 

A crazed family singing showtunes. A skipping rope being used as a whip - knives plunging through flesh. Torture. Pain. Screams. 

You saw Dick fleeing with Rachel in the night, believing that he had made the right decision to protect her. Believing that he was keeping you, and Dawn and Hank safe. You heard a sharp screech of tires as he was cut off on a dark backroad by an old-fashioned station wagon with wooden paneling. A car crash. Dick flew through the front windshield - and as he bled to death, his last moments were spent hearing Rachel’s cries for help as she was dragged from the car. 

Bad decision. 

Dick spoke about ‘some job’ that Hank and Dawn were planning and instantly, there were flashes through your mind of Dawn shot in the head, laying on the floor in a pool of her own blood - Hank’s screams of anguish as he was chained and tortured. 

They need his help. 

Why were you there? 

To stop those bad decisions. Hopefully. 

You couldn’t explain it all to Dick - you couldn’t play it all out for him so simply. He was a control freak. If you told him all the details, then he would insist on making a choice. He would insist on running the play. And he might make one of those stupid choices. You had to avoid making the same mistake that your mother had. Don’t give those stubborn, powerful men too much information and trust them to use it wisely - because they most likely won’t. 

“You should go with them.” You told Dick, your voice curt - the first time that you had acknowledged him in hours. 

He seemed shocked by you even looking in his direction, let alone speaking to him after the comment he had made. 

“Look, Y/N-” 

“I’ll stay with Rachel.” You added on. 

When Rachel eagerly agreed to this, it seemed to seal the deal for him. 

He acted as though it was his plan all along. 

Whatever made him feel better about it. 

… 

You and Rachel ended up on the rooftop. She gravitated toward the doves - she found them calming, as she told you. 

“How do you know Dick?” She asked you, clearly unable to keep down that curiosity that was naturally biting at her. 

With the cool night air whipping at your cheeks, you found it easy to be vulnerable with her. 

“We grew up together.” You told her. 

“You were a part of the Circus?” She asked, giving a small amused grin at the thought. 

“Yes.” You confirmed, mirroring her smile. Sometimes the nostalgia was painful, but unlike Dick, you didn’t try to forget it. “My mother was a fortune teller - a psychic. She was considered one of the best. People would come from miles around, or even follow the Circus from place to place just to have their palm read by her.” 

Rachel laughed at this, clearly amused. 

“So what - she had a big crystal ball, and she would read the lines on your hand to tell you how long you’re gonna live?” 

You shrugged. 

“Something like that.” You confirmed.

There was a beat of silence. Knowing what Rachel was going through, you felt the need to confess something to her. 

“My mother - she died when I was about your age.” You told her, knowing that it was likely something she needed to hear. 

It can always be comforting to know that you’re not alone. 

Rachel looked at you with large, piercing eyes - heavy grief still dancing there. It was still so fresh. Your heart ached for her. 

“What happened?” She asked. 

With her powers, you were surprised that she didn’t already know. 

But you thought it apt to explain it to her. 

“My mother didn’t just do card tricks and read palms.” You said. “She was special. Special like us, special.” 

A distinct look of dawning came across Rachel’s features. 

“She had powers.” She said softly. 

You nodded. 

“So, wait - are these kinds of powers… genetic?” She asked eagerly, seeming to perk with interest at this. 

Suddenly, a million long-dead questions about a father she had never known overtook her like a tidal wave. 

Obviously, her mother had been perfectly normal. Had she gotten her powers from her father? If she found him, would he be able to tell her who she truly was? 

“I suppose so.” You answered meekly, hating that you didn’t know for certain. “I hate that I can’t say for sure.” 

Rachel’s face fell at this.

Then, something occurred to her. 

“How did your mom’s powers kill her?” She asked. 

“It - it wasn’t really her powers that killed her.” You began to explain. “It was more… the way she used them.” 

Rachel looked at you expectantly, and you continued. 

“Before she died… she saw what happened to Dick’s parents in a vision. How they died.” You explained. “She tried to stop it, and the people who were intent on killing them weren’t too happy about it. So they killed her too.” 

It was a fate that you were constantly trying to avoid - stumbling into death while trying to save those that you loved. It was one of the reasons that you put up with so much attitude from Dick Grayson. You would much rather have him alive and giving you lip than have him dead because of some mistake that you made. 

Rachel looked pensive for a moment - watching the birds as they rested in their large cage. 

“Is that why you’re helping us now?” She asked quietly. “You’re trying to keep us from getting killed?” 

“I’m doing my best.” You remarked, anxious hope ripe in your voice. 

…

Clustering voices. A tense argument. 

It was broken up by - 

“Hello there.” 

The faux sweetness of a dangerous stranger. 

Fear shook you. The sound gave you a sense of deja vu. You recognized them from a far off vision. 

Before you could warn the others, it broke into a brutal fight. 

You used all the training you had, but you were distracted by Dick being thrown off the roof. Something hit you in the head, hard - you heard Dawn cry out for help, and you saw a cluster of blonde hair and limbs as she went flying. 

Rachel screamed and reached out for you and you desperately reached back - you were dizzy and blinking heavily and didn’t even remember being knocked down. 

“Dawn! Dawn!” 

You heard Dick shouting urgently and then you realized in horror that she might be dead. 

Dawn. 

You were sluggish and felt wetness on the side of your face that must have been blood, but you forcibly peeled yourself off the ground, stumbling toward the sound of Dick’s voice - toward the fire escape. You tripped down a few of the stairs, your blurred eyes only focused on the shape of them - him crouching over her body, blonde hair splayed across the pavement, limp legs. 

She’s not dead. 

She can’t be. 

When you made it to her, you fell to your knees beside her. With the last of her energy, she locked eyes with you. 

Fear. Anxiety. Terror. Trust. 

She knew that you would help her. 

Her eyes drifted closed, and Dick panicked. 

“Dawn, Dawn!” 

“Be quiet.” You barked at him. 

You needed to concentrate. 

“You’re telling me to shut up?” He griped back, his fear and panic foaming up through his lips as intense anger directed towards you. “Shouldn’t you have seen this coming? What happened to-?” 

“I don’t appreciate the attitude.” You ground out, looking up at him to find nothing but pure fear staring back at you. “Now - Shut. Up.” 

You placed your hand gently onto Dawn’s forehead - you concentrated hard, focusing your powers on her. You couldn’t do anything about her physical injuries, but you could preserve the parts of her that mattered the most. You could keep her spirit alive. You could lock her memories away in a safe place so that she would be whole when her body healed. 

“What kind of voodoo bullshit is she doing?” Hank huffed out, having just made it down the fire escape himself. 

“Be quiet and let her work.” Dick told him, waving a dismissive hand in Hank’s direction. 

For once in their lives, both of the men sat in silence, actually deferring to you and following your lead. 

They trusted you to do something good for her, rather than doing more harm.

...

A/N: If you want to be tagged in future parts of this, you can sign up for my DC Titans taglist - just let me know that you want to be a part of that taglist by commenting below, and keep in mind that I have taglist rules. Also, I only have a general taglist for DC Titans fics, not a specific taglist for this series because this series updates sporadically and not on a schedule.

Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.

While this is technically part of a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.

To me, this fic is a nice slow casual walk through the woods to enjoy the scenery, rather than a marathon with a clearly outlined route and a specific finish line as other series have been for me in the past.

Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series - it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, even predictions for the plot of future chapters are okay, as long as you are not asking when the fic will be updated. Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.

If you enjoyed this - great, thank you, I am so glad that you do. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it.

But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things). I particularly recommend reading Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson to scratch that emotionally constipated Dick Grayson itch if this fic left you feening. Also, feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.

Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open. And I would really love some requests for shorter fics with Dick, like headcanons or reactions. Otherwise, comments are appreciated and I really hope that you have a great day!

[idyllic-affections]

what if kaveh adopted a child? (pt. ii)

summary. kaveh isn't exactly the best single dad out there, but he's doing his best.

trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst. adoptive dad!kaveh & reader. alhaitham & reader. tighnari & reader. collei & reader. 1.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this post is an expansion of what if kaveh adopted a child?

author's thoughts. do you guys remember when i said i wouldnt expand upon this brainrot? i lied. it was pretty well recieved and got some nice interaction so i hope to replicate that effect with this one!! heres some more adoptive dad!kaveh 💖 this will not make sense if you havent read the aforementioned brainrot, so please do that before reading this one! also do be aware that this has hints of kaveh's backstory in it, so if you don't want to see implied spoilers, don't read this!!

kaveh is a disaster single dad, but he's doing his best.

kaveh did inevitably take alhaitham's unsolicited advice and took them to gandharva ville. as much as he may hate to outwardly admit it... he knows he's not in a place to take care of a child alone, and he can't force alhaitham to help. that is simply not his roommate's responsibility. kaveh respects that; taking care of a child is a serious committment. it is not something that can be treated lightly, and it is certainly not something to force upon an unwilling caretaker. thankfully, the people at gandharva ville have no issue taking them in until kaveh is able to care for them properly.

tighnari and collei take really good care of them—especially collei. she adores them.

collei was very awkward with them at first, but she warmed up to them pretty quickly. something about having the opportunity to help a young child recover from trauma and learn to be stronger and smarter, having the opportunity to be like a big sister... it's very healing for her. she is being the person she herself would have needed all those years ago.

tighnari was also somewhat hesitant at first. children have a tendency to be bratty and loud, and he... does not have that kind of patience, but he was quick to get over any prior doubts after meeting them for the first time. they were very quiet. it was kind of worrying at first, but tighnari quickly realized that they just prefer communicating nonverbally.

the way they write is beautifully advanced and elegant, but it seems that their mouth finds it hard to keep up with their brain. that's all.

tighnari tutors them alongside collei. they're very advanced in language for their young age, and collei is a bit behind, so the two are roughly at the same level. he's also teaching both of them some of sumeru's many languages.

unlike collei, however, they are not from sumeru. they're from fontaine. as such, they have a lot of trouble producing some sounds that native speakers would have no trouble with.

(it's a source of very much frustration for them. collei is always there to console them when they get especially frustrated with themselves, wiping their tears away with gentle yet calloused hands and reassuring them that absolutely no-one expects them to be able to pronounce every word perfectly. even she messes up sometimes! she was away from sumeru for so long, after all. some sounds are difficult for her too.)

whenever kaveh visits them, they absolutely shine with excitement, as if he hasn't come to see them in ages. however... he's usually there multiple times a week (unless he's away for a project, and if he is, he always tells them before he leaves). they're simply always happy to see him.

it's really very cute, the way they gasp delightedly and run up to hug his legs since they're too short to reach any higher. it's impossibly endearing.

one time in particular stood out.

"Baba!"

Utter shock.

The silence that spread through Gandharva Ville was incredibly overpowering, but that didn't seem to deter them from running up to poor Kaveh—who had yet to completely process what they had said, how they had addressed him—and squeezing their little arms around his leg. The silence was quick to dissipate into fond murmurs and giggles as the Forest Rangers resumed their individual duties.

...

The blonde had no intention of replacing their parents; he'd feel awful if one or both of them turned up at some point, only for their child to have bonded with a different caretaker, but...

He also didn't have the heart to chide them. Who would? The way they gazed up at him with a smile that outshined the blazing sun itself was too sweet, too innocent. Kaveh couldn't possibly imagine why anyone would want to crush their soul like that.

He couldn't deny the warmth spreading in his chest, either.

With a smile, he raised his child into his arms, laying his forehead against their's. His gaze was gentle, affectionate, as he observed their expression. 'Enamored' didn't even begin to describe Kaveh's affection for them.

"Hello, little one. Baba's back."

from then on, kaveh absolutely addresses them as his kid. he just accepts that his role in their life is that of a father. family is not defined by blood, and archons know they need a parental figure that they can trust and rely on after what they went through in fontaine.

he never really saw himself being a father, at least not for a good while, but he adores them sm <3

alhaitham definitely warms up to them (eventually)!

he teaches them a few things here and there. most of the things he teaches them are language-related, but he'll sometimes present them with math problems. he'll even review some of their work for them if they ask, especially if it's something like an essay.

kaveh would absolutely pay special attention to his child's hair. if he doesn't already know how to care for their specific hair type, he would do everything in his power to learn how to.

kaveh spoils them whenever he can afford to. he oftentimes can't afford to do such things, which stings like a fresh wound would, but he knows they're happy even without being spoiled. he tries his best!

the architect wants to preserve their native culture, but they seem averse to the idea of returning to fontaine, and forcing them would do no good.

for now, the best he can do is obtain fontainian literature through foreign sources and ensure that their own language isn't erased by the sumeran languages they're learning.

his mother does live there. he could always ask her for a few favors when needed.

when the political climate cools down a little, he plans on taking them to fontaine, just not the capital city. anywhere outside of the nation's capital would do. ideally, he'd keep them as far away from the hydro archon as possible.

kaveh would never push his child to enroll in the akademiya, no matter how brilliant they are. unless they voluntarily want to go...

he will not do something that cruel to them. he wouldn't dream of it. honestly, even if they wanted to go, he would be a little hesitant.

(this view would change drastically after the sages are removed from office, however; once they're gone and the akademiya becomes less suffocating, he'd totally encourage them to go.)

if they did decide they wanted to go, however, he'd absolutely try to get them to enroll in kshahrewar.

like father like child!! they've been with the forest rangers for a while, so surely they'd be good with their hands by then.

alhaitham would try to get them into haravatat just to spite kaveh (those two are married, trust me!). his reasoning? they're far ahead of their peers in language. they'd thrive in an environment such as the one his darshan creates.

if they decide not to go? that's alright, too.

kaveh wants his child to thrive in an environment where they can safely and happily pursue whatever catches their interest, even if that means they regularly hop between subjects and ideas on a whim. inspiration is a skittish beast that would surely slip through their fingers if they aren't quick enough to pursue it; he understands this idea very well. it really isn't the end of the world if they don't want to go to the akademiya. they have plenty of scholars willing to teach them without all the academic stress attached—kaveh himself, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno...

(they're like a platonic co-parenting friend group LMAO they're raising [name] and collei together! they all help each other out!!)

kaveh is also very intent on teaching them to care for themselves before they try to care for anyone else.

he lives weighed down by guilt for things that weren't even his fault. he knows he's trapped by his own ideals; he'd be damned if he were to teach his child to be same way.

"do as i say, not as i do" kind of vibe. also definitely teaches his kid to "do no harm but take no shit"

(though, let's be honest: children learn through mirroring. if kaveh is not careful, his child will subconsciously adopt his self-destructive behaviors. thankfully, they do have other people to set them straight if they begin exhibiting such behaviors, namely alhaitham and cyno, who also do the majority of teaching them to "take no shit".)

ultimately, kaveh just wants his child to be happy, even if something were to happen to him. he doesn't want them to feel the way he does every moment of his life.

It wasn't often that Kaveh simply got to sit in calm silence with his child.

More often than not, they spent their time in Gandharva Ville with the forest rangers. However, every other weekend, Kaveh would take them back to Sumeru City with him; Alhaitham seemed to have no qualms with keeping them around after realizing the kind of child they turned out to be.

It was during the weekends the architect had them that he sought to spend as much time as possible with them.

Sometimes, that meant sitting peacefully in the silence together.

"...Little one," Kaveh called softly, hand stroking lovingly over their hair. They tilted their head back to meet his gaze, a small, inquisitive sound leaving their lips.

"Hm?"

"If something ever happens to me, I want you to know that you had nothing to do with it in any way, matter the circumstance. If something ever happens to me... it would not be your fault, okay? Do you understand?"

A heavy silence extended for a moment, and Kaveh could only watch as a variety of emotions crossed their face at once.

It unsettled him that they seemed to fight with themselves about how to respond, as if they couldn't agree with that.

Then again...

It wouldn't surprise him if they blamed themselves for the loss of their biological parents. Only time would tell if that pain would manifest into something worse as they got older.

"...Okay, baba. I understand."

He smiled, leaning down to kiss their forehead.

"Good."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 95 (Warning: This Fic has a whole load of sensitive subject matter throughout it, so check the tags and go in at your own discretion)

Burning Lungs by Oxidize

Alrighty I’mma be perfectly honest, I have no idea how to approach this one. This might be the . . . darkest? No. I think the best (but still not best?) way I could describe this fic as would be, the most openly graphic story. Not in a super brutal descriptions of gore kind of graphic, just in the sense that when talking about the darker aspects of these characters backstories it’s the most in your face. I’d even argue it’s kind of overboard at points.

This is Burning Lungs! Another multi-chapter story, and unfortunately, another Unfinished one. 

You know those posts talking about when you binge read a fic and get super invested only to hit the most recent chapter and realize that it hasn’t been updated in a super long time?? For me, this is THE fic I think of when that kind of posts comes up. That and a Tokomaru fic I read years ago as a young teen but that’s not Junkan so it’s irrelevant here. 

A short summation of the fic for those who chose not to read it given the warnings. Junko catches Pneumonia and has to stay in the Nurse’s Office at Hope’s Peak, where her caretaker is, unsurprisingly Mikan! Initially she hates Mikan, partially because of her sickness. However through the combination of Mikan’s kind nature, and constant nightmares of her childhood, she eventually comes to start loving Mikan.

Now of course, because the fic is unfinished, we don’t get to see these feelings fully come together, just snippets as Junko slowly finds herself more and more fond of Mikan.

I love this fic, like, a lot. While I could do without the at times kind of excessive flashbacks going over how bad Junko (and Mukuro’s) childhood was, everything outside of that is so good that I’m willing to overlook my minor gripe. And even then the last flashback actually is what makes me wish this fic had continued. Since (And yes we’re getting into spoilers from here on out) it reveals that Junko and Mikan had unknowingly met as young children, and like, god i fucking love that trope. Especially in the context of this fic. 

Something I find myself fond of which is only possible with these dream sequences is the way the author lets both characters slowly bond because of their trauma. We only ever get to see Junko’s side of things of course, but I still really like the vibe. My favorite moment from this story is in the last chapter, when Mikan talks to Junkan about some of her own personal history, for a lot of reasons! For one I just like seeing Junko having grown a bit further since for a decent portion of the fic she’s had a very negative opinion of Mikan due to being stuck in bed and sick, with that outlook being chipped away by Mikan’s kindness (along with recognizing her struggles).

It also involves Mikan’s bandages! I’ve said previously that I’m just like, obsessed with those and the ways they can be used when portraying Mikan. Here it is, definitely uncomfortable but I’m pretty sure that’s the point. And it’s the hardest indicator for Junko that Mikan and her are the same, deeply damaged girls who deserved better. 

The line in the inner monologue that strikes my mind the hardest is “Not Tsumiki” because that feels like the hardest shift in Junko’s brain where she begins to not just wish for Mikan’s happiness, but also when she starts falling for her (Even if she tries to fight back that notion in her mind as just a need for affection.) Like everything after that between these two specifically I love. 

Mikan doing Junko’s hair (both times) is lovely and gives me a similar energy to why I love the idea of Mikan���s love language coming out through medical care. Oh! Nother thing I like (Sorry I’m focusing so much on Chapter 3, it’s really good), Junko doesn’t just like, instantly switch to only being nice with Mikan. She’s significantly kinder to her, but she’s just like, reflexively a bitch sometimes. She’s gotta work through it, and I like to imagine she would have if the series continued (and I do have thoughts on that, but that’s for the future) 

This is a small thing but I also like the background of Mukuro and Sayaka getting together in the background, just something cute that does my heart good. I’ve always wanted to try out the cold spoon trick since this is where I learned it from. Alas, my relationship is long distance, so I’ve yet to get a nice hickey- Oops that got off topic.

I believe that’s all the notable stuff I wanted to mention here? I hope those who choose to read have a good time with it! Because I certainly did.

To the author (who I tried to find outside of AO3 ((also checking its profile reveals it uses it/its pronouns. Hopefully that remains accurate should you be finding this post, apologies if not and I’m willing to edit this if necessary!)), but it doesn’t seem to have any other accounts under the same username), I sincerely hope that wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, you’re doing well. I always wish the best to these authors when I come across a long unfinished storyline that may never continue (And in this case it noted on its profile that the fics it made during this release year won’t be finished). I made art based on this fic both out of love for it, and in hopes that you’d find this! Not out of a desire to see the story finish (Even if I do), but to let ya know that what work you did put into this already is wonderful! Thankyou! Oh right. Should talk about the art.

Hey guess what, it’s more Chapter 3 stuff, another adaptation of course. I tried hard to get Mikan’s outfit correct based on the descriptions from earlier chapters. It was very weird getting to draw Mikan in an outfit that’s well, realistic? I’ve drawn her in sweaters and the like before, but I struggle to describe the sense of realism described in this fit. It’s now that I realize with a reread that her outfit in this chapter might have been different, as it showed off her bandages more (unless I missed a line), meaning she might have been wearing something closer to her Nurse Uniform? I’m still happy with this despite that!

Oh! Slight extra note, I like Mikan wearing more bandaids (the tiny kind) across her face and fingers rather than just her arm, leg, and knee like normal. Adds a sense of uniqueness!~ 

Anyway, I felt very confident in the choice to adapt the scene when Junko wakes up from her first nightmare of the chapter. Held in Mikan’s arm as she’s being calmed down. You know me, I like the role reversal with this ship, and Mikan comforting Junko ALWAYS gives me life.

Coloring and shading this was super hard, but super fun! I wanted this to be a much more desaturated and dull looking pic in terms of the presentation, since this fic always gave me a vibe of being a lot more realistic in its interpretation of Danganronpa Characters. It wasn’t easy, but I think it was worth it!

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[the-music-maniac]

I haven't watched that much of One Piece yet, so feel free to disagree with me on this analysis, but there's one thing about people's general interpretation of Sanji as a character that drives me a little nuts. And I'm saying this because even though I'm not very far along, I got spoiled for his backstory (because I refused to stop reading fanfiction even though when I first started I was like, on episode 3).

So before you continue, there are spoilers for Sanji's past.

I think people tend to ignore that the differences between Sanji's demeanor towards men vs towards women likely partially stem from severe trauma. I don't believe his actions are entirely intrinsic, its not like he was born acting like this - nor is it an unchanging immutable fact of his character, despite what a lot of people seem to believe.

And for some context on what prompted this - I'm a sanzo/zosan shipper, so I tend to crawl through the depths of the internet looking for fun little videos and fanarts, and one consistent protest I see with this ship is "Sanji DESPISES men and WORSHIPS women, there's literally no way he could EVER be attracted to men or want to date a man he HATES them."

Which bothers me outside of any arguments about Sanji's sexuality or even about any ships - which I will get to in a second - because that interpretation of Sanji assumes his actions are just there for no reason. Sanji hates men, therefore he hates all men with no exceptions, and he will always hate men. Sanji loves all women, therefore he will always worship every single woman he meets. I dunno, I think it's just a very surface level understanding of who he is, and relies on setting a rule for no reason and just sticking to it, as if it's just a mere quirk of his character with no backing to it.

Sanji's first interaction with any people, was in the form of his biological family, as is the case with most of us. Specifically, his father and brothers, who abused him and didn't even treat him like a person, and his mother and sister, who were the only people that treated him with kindness and saw his humanity. Tbh, he reminds me of the way women who have experienced trauma from men act - a general dislike/disdain and distrust for them (for good reason). And I don't doubt Sanji's overall elevation of women was only hammered home by the fact that his first ever father figure - arguably the first man who's treated him with kindness - teaching him the lesson to always respect women. His very illogical need to never fight women probably partially comes from the events in his life, and because it's not just a two dimensional arbitrary rule established for his character - there can be exceptions and growth.

We already know this, because despite Sanji's general disdain of men as a whole, he is capable of caring/loving men that he personally knows. He loves Zeff, and he loves his nakama - some of whom are MEN. Like, it's right there??? In the same way a woman who has experienced violence at the hands of a man probably still has family and friends or even a significant other that they love and care about that are men.

Like if you're using his demeanor towards the different genders as an "aha got you" argument for why Sanji couldn't possibly be queer, its not as strong of an argument as you think it is.

And if we're operating under the assumption that Sanji partially acts like this because of trauma, it brings up quite a few interesting arguments about his sexuality and potential romantic partners.

Which segways into sanzo/zosan, since admittedly I got into this entire debacle because I was looking into fanart (non-shippers feel free to click away now if you wish, I get that not everyone likes the ship, which is valid).

I don't think Sanji's actions means he couldn't be bisexual. Cause I'm bisexual, and you know what would make me very very keen to ignore all my attraction to one specific gender? If I had multiple instances of that gender hurt me severely. In fact I'm not so certain I don't experience that, because while I haven't had anything super bad happen to me, I hear about things in the news, about friends and family who have been harmed, interacted with men who have talked down to me, and I definitely went through a phase in my younger years where i just refused to consider men as a possibility for a romantic partner, because I was just so so angry. And I'm not saying Sanji doesn't like women in truth, because he absolutely does. He's both attracted to them and likes them. But that doesn't eliminate the possibility that he might also be attracted to men, or other non-binary genders. In fact the more he doth protest, and puts on a show when he sees a pretty woman, the more I'm sure he's in denial. Internalized homophobia can also be a bitch. Contrary to making me think Sanji is absolutely straight, the way he acts in the show actually puts me the opposite way.

I've heard Sanji also has an interesting relationship with gender and may be genderqueer but I don't know as many details about that yet, so I'll skip it for now. But regardless, I look at Sanji and go "I don't think this is a traditionally cishet character."

Of course, this is by far not the only interpretation you can have of Sanji. It could be that he's traumatized and also heterosexual. That's absolutely fine. But my overall point here is that I don't think what we see in canon negates the possibility that Sanji can be queer.

As to why I like Zosan in relation to this:

1. First, a relatively minor thing, I enjoy the sheer amount of bickering/fighting. People hold that up as a reason to not like the ship and I'm like, my dude that's one of the only reasons why I'm here. My love language is annoying the people you love and occasionally having homoerotic battles. duh.

2. Zoro is one of the aforementioned men that Sanji cares about, one of the exceptions to his "men are horrible" thing. Like they argue and fight a lot, sure, but you're not convincing me that they don't love each other. In whatever capacity - platonic or romantic - is up to your interpretation. Sanji loves all of his nakama, that's not really something I see as up for debate.

3. I honestly believe that until Sanji gets a less extreme viewpoint of the different genders - he won't be able to be in a healthy romantic relationship with a woman. For one thing, I know Sanji has self worth issues for days. For another thing, his hero worship for women as a whole - his refusal to fight women, even when they're actively trying to harm him - I don't see that translating well to a relationship. Moreover, I can see it being exhausting for the woman he ends up with, to always be treated like she's made of glass or agreed with, regardless of what she says.

Essentially, he wouldn't really treat that relationship as a partnership between equals, and I think when that happens, you run the risk of the individuals hurting each other, even on accident. Of course, we can also see this as a facet of his character with exceptions and possibility for personal growth. Maybe if he gets with a girl he'll grow and learn and still end up in a good relationship. You could also just interpret his demeanor as over the top flirting that he'll reign back in for an actual serious relationship. Sky's the limit when it comes to fandom interpretations.

But because of this, regardless, I just don't see any potential between the female characters I've met and Sanji. What I do see potential in, is Zoro. Here is actually a character Sanji not only trusts to watch his back, is on equal footing with, but is also unafraid to speak his mind and fight with. He doesn't walk on eggshells or worship the ground Zoro walks on, he has no qualms about defending himself if Zoro crosses a line. That is what a relationship can be built on.

4. Zoro has a contrasting way of interacting with women that I find super interesting. He comes off as the kind of character that doesn't actually care about the gender of the person he's fighting or interacting with - he cares about their ability. Which kinda explains his reactions when he hears Kuina's thoughts about being a girl - and I think Tashigi as well if I'm remembering correctly. There could be a clash of beliefs there that might be quite interesting. I know Zoro and Sanji do fight about how they talk to women, but I meant like something not just played off for laughs. Maybe there is something like that later in the show, who knows, I'm still early on.

5. Again the entire reason why I like enemies to lovers is the need for personal growth. I heard someone say that Zoro would be fine with being in love with a boy if it wasn't Sanji, and Sanji would be fine with being in love with Zoro if he wasn't a boy, and man do I think that's accurate. And here's the crux of the matter - in order for them to get together, they need to get over their hang-ups. Sanji needs to unpack the ten million tons of trauma he keeps repressed under his curly noggin, and Zoro needs to figure out why Sanji rubs him the wrong way. That shit is INTERESTING. People forget that the reason why this trope is so popular is BECAUSE it's a fixer upper - there's work to do. Nothing is perfect. It may even be a little toxic. That's the appeal.

Anyways this is getting TOO LONG. Thanks for reading!

[66sharkteeth]

Weekly thoughts!

Hooboy, the big episode! First off, I think everyone knows by now that you probably shouldn't read these if you haven't read the latest episode, but I ESPECIALLY mean that this week! Talking about some way bigger than usual spoilers.

Phew, this was a big one, both from a writing and drawing perspective. I actually spent a full day on that last panel alone, but writing it took way longer than usual too. Going back and forth between Bell's speech and Jericho's backstory played perfectly like a movie in my head, but it was really hard to portray it as a comic and it was one of the few times I was struggling with the limitations of the format. I think I pulled it off though, since everyone seemed to follow along fine! So while it was probably just a neat scene to everyone else, I'm rather proud of that haha.

As for the actual contents of the episode, I'm also glad everything hit w/ the majority of the audience for the most part. I know a handful were confused about if that was Bell or Jericho who did that, but to those people, I remind you it's been loooong established Jericho can control his extensions (Bell, Charlie, and Claude. Remember, they all took injections of Jericho's blank space?). Also on that note, Bell does not have her own scion... Only Rex and Jericho do. Bell, Charlie and Claude all took injections of Jericho's blank space, thus get to borrow some of his power. I recommend re-reading ep 80 if you need a refresher.

I do consider this ep kind of a big reveal of Jericho's true colors. I mean, you guys have known he's the main villain for ages now, but this is the ep that reveals his "better world for blanks" act is kind of a façade and what he's really seeking is a worse world for humans. The fall of humans benefitting blanks is just kind of a bonus. I'm glad a few people caught onto this with the fact that one of the worst horrors he experienced was having his autonomy taken away from him, then he proceeds to do just that to Bell.

And speaking of Jericho's horrors- Before this season launched, I dropped a bunch of hints about upcoming things. One of them was that the most disturbing scene (in my opinion) was coming up. I was actually referring to what happened to Kallie. I'm not sure if it was as disturbing to everyone else (I totally get like if Claude's leg thing fucked people up more), but being evaporated into nothingness but not dying was an existential dread that really fucks me up haha. If it fucked even a couple of other people up, then I did my job.

I don't have too much else to say about the contents of the episode. It was so hard to bite my tongue for weeks as everyone predicted pretty much every character but Desmond was gonna get it. I'm sorry I don't have too much else to say about him right now given what happened, but I definitely will in the upcoming weeks.

I guess the only other note I have is I might as well address something that bugs me slightly- It's definitely a minority but there's a handful of people who seem done with the series because "too many things go wrong." To which... I'm not sure what to tell ya. I'm fine with critique and criticism to be clear, but honestly, this is one thing I'm actually really confident I'm good at balancing. I'm not sure where people are coming from with "nothing good ever happens in this series" when this season alone has had probably the cutest and fluffiest scenes. Rex has a canon girlfriend, he had his first kiss with her, Desmond was reunited with his sister and learned to accept himself, Lyss learned to move past her trauma and accept blanks, Rex was reunited with Shnee, Rex's scion turns out to be a puppy dog w/ a crush. I'm aware a lot of these got kind of crushed with this latest ep...but that's.. kind of. the. point??? That's how you write tragedy and impactful scenes??

I dunno, maybe this is personal to me because it's ALWAYS bugged me when someone tells me they think a show is bad because it's "too dark." Like no... It's not *bad* because it's too dark, you just don't like dark themes, and that's okay. I TOTALLY get if CoB has gotten too dark for some people- it's definitely hit some hard themes and subjects, but I don't like to accept that as a critique. It just means it's not for you and that's okay. There's a ton of other great comics that are more light-hearted! I think the TLDR of this is it will always annoy me when people say something is bad just because it's not their taste.

Now. That said... everyone is completely valid in their hate of Jericho. I, however, still love him.

[lalalian]

my drself intro | aethergarde academy

date: december 29, 2024

hehe, I've settled on an appearance and I tweaked my backstory a bit. also I'm scripting mikhael's eyes are dark gray bc it really wouldn't make sense if mine were gray since brown eyes is such a strong (gene wise) trait 😭😭

You absolutely do not need to have the exact same backstory as me; my backstory isn't technically canon.

Note that my backstory does not reflect an ordinary or perfect life, if this kind of scripting is not for you, please move on. I have experienced some of the things in my backstory, and I know what I can and cannot handle. I do not need people telling me what I can or cannot handle, especially since you do not know me OR what I've been through. Again, you do not need to have my backstory; you can start anywhere you'd like.

My goal is not to treat trauma like it is some kind of movie; my goal is to experience a different life than my current life. This is my final warning, if you don't agree with this sentiment, please leave.

appearance

hair: jet black hair, this haircut

eyes: bluish-gray, dark border around iris, slightly larger iris than normal just bc I like the look lmao

iris size:

nails: lmao I honestly shouldn't be scripting this bc I don't start off as a noble, but I'm just gonna script that I was given a few extra nail polish bottles from a manicurist in my town

backstory

tw: envy, kidnapping, unrequited love

(Also I just realized how messy the writing is; I'm sorry but I really don't feel like redoing it all 😭 feel free to ask questions if you're confused about anything/everything; I will provide a short summary of everything below the full ver of my backstory)

Please heed the warnings in the intro paragraphs before the appearance section before reading. I'll copy and paste the warnings here:

Note that my backstory does not reflect an ordinary or perfect life, if this kind of scripting is not for you, please move on. I have experienced some of the things in my backstory, and I know what I can and cannot handle. I do not need people telling me what I can or cannot handle, especially since you do not know me OR what I've been through. Again, you do not need to have my backstory; you can start anywhere you'd like.

My goal is not to treat trauma like it is some kind of movie; my goal is to experience a different life than my current life. This is my final warning, if you don't agree with this sentiment, please leave.

-

-

I live in a small town called Kelvingrove Village. My step-father is a carpenter and my step-mother is a painter. My ‘step’-mother left the home of my birth father when I turned 1, and married my step-father when I was around 3 y/o. My birth father is the one who is a descendent of Kashmir, and he gave me my Kashmir blood. My birth mother is Aelea Sol-Yete Kashmir. Aelea has light gray eyes and Niran has dark blue eyes. My real name is Ariadne (’Are’-ee-yuh-deen) Sol Kashmir, but I was renamed to Aeris Greze somehow by my step-mother because she wanted to hide my identity from my birth father.

I also have an older step sister (older than me by 3 yrs) named Dahlia Greze. My sister is well known in our village; she’s known for being both pretty and sweet. She isn’t rlly sweet tho, she often makes snide remarks to me whenever she can. I didn’t have many friends growing up because Dahlia would start bothering them too if they hung out with me. Dahlia is the favorite child bc she shares the same blood as my stepfather (stepfather’s name is Callum Greze) and step-mother (Her name is Cassia). My step-mother was madly in love with my father, Kyrian Solmir (he changed up his name lol, his real name is Niran Sol Kashmir). Also yes, everyone in the Kashmir bloodline has the same middle name, this is because it’s supposed to mean that everyone in the bloodline represents the sun.

Dahlia Greze receives expensive clothing and was most certainly spoilt by my stepfather and step-mother due to preference. Cassia had Dahlia with Callum Greze, she had a baby with him on accident through a hook-up, but decided to raise Dahlia, and made an excuse to leave a few months into her pregnancy due to pregnancy symptoms getting more taxing. Cassia had worked in Niran's mansion 6~ yrs prior to my birth. After giving birth to Dahlia, she eventually married my step-father a year later, and had started raising both Dahlia and I together in Niran’s mansion with his permission. Aelea, my birth mother, was a bit displeased with this arrangement. Dahlia, even as a child, did not like me and resented me out of jealousy. As a kid I often received expensive toys to play with, and was often tended to by many servants, especially when Cassia was unable to help me. Though it wasn't like Dahlia was completely neglected by the other servants, more attention was given to the noble child (me).

Sometimes, she’d pull at my hair and throw stuff at me. A few weeks after I turned 1, Cassia went to my stepfather’s house to ‘sell paintings’ but it actually was an excuse to see him. Cassia didn’t want to make it seem like her relationship with my step-father was a good one (to be honest, it really wasn’t anyway) to make sure Niran felt bad for her, kept giving her money, and eventually leave his wife to have a forbidden relationship with her. My step-father was dismissive of my step-mother and was often busy with work.

My father was getting worried, it was almost nighttime, and Cassia still was out in the city 'selling paintings'. While my other nannies were taking care of me, my father went out to find her himself as he was already out buying potions and machinery. He saw my step-mom speaking to Callum Greze through a window in the Greze house. Niran was relieved that she wasn't out in the streets at night, but before he left the scene, he heard Cassia scoff and complain that if she was married to Niran, she wouldn't be in the position she is now. She kept comparing Niran and Callum, basically saying how much better Niran is than Callum. Callum got (rightfully) angry at her, and yelled at her to leave.

Niran heard this and was completely stunned— he didn’t want someone who loved him to work for him when he was not only married, but taking care of his child. He told her that she had until the end of the week to pack her things and leave though a swift letter the next day. My step-mother was angry with the dismissal, and demanded Niran to tell her why he dismissed her from her position, and he confessed he heard what she said the night before. Cassia implored Niran to listen to her, but he simply left the room, not desiring an argument. Later, my step-mother told Callum that she wanted to leave the village after she talks with Niran; she she tells him to get all their stuff ready to leave so they can leave as soon as she comes back.

The day she left, she tried to seduce Niran, it didn’t work, and he angrily told her that he is not only married, but never loved her. Cassia tried to convince him that he did in fact love her, but everything she told him was stuff like ‘you glanced at me with love in your eyes’ ‘you smiled at me when…’. All stuff that was really small and just polite gestures. The next day, she packed all her things… and me. My actual father actually really cared about me, and he doted on me often. She knew that he really cared about me, so she took me to spite him and to try and take away a part of his happiness. She wanted to get rid of my mother, but she had too strong of a social background to do that, and she was already introduced to society. Cassia knew it'd be best if she took someone nobody really knows yet.

She brought me into the wagons with Callum and Dahlia and left before Niran could find out. Callum was confused and didn’t want my step-mother to take me with them, but she insisted, and lied saying that the child had nowhere else to go. While Cassia didn’t completely hate me, she didn’t really like me all that much because she could see my birth mother in me, and hated that I was essentially a product of Niran and Aelea’s love. She didn’t want to get rid of me along the way bc I was the only piece of Niran left for her.

As she raised me, she reveled in that fact that I was now ‘on her level’, she loved that I no longer was able to wear noble clothing, could play with expensive dolls and toys, or was tended to by servants every second. This made her preference for Dahlia grow, and Dahlia too relished the attention from her mom. Fast forward until I’m 12, (Dahlia’s 15). It’s May, which is dragon rider season. People from different rider schools came to Kelvingrove Village to recruit dragon riders in Kelvingrove, and everyone who was 15 years of age was gathered into lines to be tested.

Everyone thought Dahlia would be a rider because many thought she was smart (she was actually cheating, I was doing her work on top of my own work), athletic, and she even had pointy canine teeth. If your family has a dragon rider in it, a few days after the event in your village, a letter would arrive stamped with the royal seal. The letter would address the family and say so-and-so is a dragon rider, and a carriage would transport them to the second testing location in the beginning of June. Unfortunately, Dahlia wasn’t selected. Her two other close friends got selected to be riders though. Fast forward until I’m 15, (Dahlia’s 18) and it’s May again!

…guess who gets selected as dragon rider?

Me.

summary:

I was born in Niran Sol Kashmir (disguised as Kyrian Solmir) and Aelea Yete-Sol Kashmir's mansion, and my head nanny was Cassia. Cassia secretly loved Niran and thought he loved her too through simple and polite gestures. Cassia hooked up with Callum Greze awhile ago and had Dahlia (who is around 3 y/o at this point), then got permission to raise her in the mansion with me.

Dahlia became more and more jealous of me due to me receiving more attention from servants and expensive toys from my parents (Niran and Aelea) which led to her picking on me. This made Dahlia resent me.

One night, Cassia left the mansion with the excuse that she was selling some old paintings she had, but in reality, she was seeing Callum. She lied about this because she didn't want Niran to think she had a good relationship with Callum so that she can receive more money, have Niran feel bad for her, and eventually leave his wife to have a forbidden relationship with her.

Cassia was out way later than she had reported, so Niran, who was already out running errands at that point, went to find her himself. He heard a couple arguing loudly, looked at a window, and realized that it was Cassia. She compared Callum and Niran, saying how much better Niran is, and confessed that she loved him more than she ever loved Callum. Callum got rightfully upset and sternly told her to leave.

The next day, Cassia received a letter saying that she is dismissed from her job as my head nanny, and will need to leave by the end of the week. Cassia implored Niran to change his mind and tried to seduce him. Neither worked, and Niran angrily kicked her out. Out of spite, Cassia took me with her, and moved far away from Niran. She took me instead of doing anything to Aelea because Aelea already had a strong social standing + everyone already knew her, nobody really knows me or what I look like.

Cassia changed my name without alerting Niran somehow from Ariadne Sol Kashmir to Aeris Greze to help ensure that Niran never finds me.

When dragon rider recruitment season comes around, Dahlia gets tested, and turns out not to be a rider even though many thought she'd be. When it's my turn 3 yrs later, I turn out to be a rider.

lmao the summary isn't as short as I thought I could make it, there's so many details I needed to include tho, sorry 😭😭