#have my favorite characterization balance

[on-wine-dark-seas]

Alright, we are home and ready to YAP.

Phyx, babe, I'm here to tell you that this is some truly exemplary fanfiction. Like, when I say this fic has checked all my boxes [and added a few I didn't know I wanted]??? I have never been held so tightly by the throat in a fanfic. Not like this.

The pacing for this fic is so masterful I need you to teach me how you fucking do it. Not a word or a moment wasted in any chapter, and the way you keep the tension building steadily, snapping and controlling the story and drawing us in, or shutting us out. Ah, I could ramble about this for DAYS.

Let's talk about your characterization of Sukuna. You have achieved this lovely balance of making him menacing, cruel, brutal, and wild [my favorite Sukuna flavors]. But you've also shown us how innately human he actually is. You've spun his tale so well where there are moments where he's everything like the legends say, and where he is nothing like the legends say. He is all and everything and nothing. I think you know how much I love him by now but your characterization is hands-down one of my favorites. Again, masterful work.

The Reader [I don't see myself as her] is also a masterful character. You've stoked the flames of curiosity from the outset where we learn about her in the same way her techinque works: little poisonous details that rot away the veneer to reveal the horrifying truth beneath the silk [ha, apt title]. She's stubborn, she's independent, she's stronger than she could have ever let herself realize [until this chapter], and she is so much like Sukuna that I think that's why he's so drawn to her. She's like him in that she is not a creature meant for any yoke. She will run freely or she will die fighting and snarling.

The two of them together burn like gasoline flames left untended. They want each other so badly it makes them do all manner of hurtful shit to deny their mutual attraction. I am waiting on tenterhooks for the moment they both finally accept the truth of what they are to each other because I know you're going to make it so cathartic.

The scene with the branding was tough. I can see why you needed a break. I can't imagine the headspace you had to shift into to make that scene hit like it did but again: masterful work. I am so ready to see Sukuna crash out over this because I know he's livid.

Also the white-haired demon is there, love that for him. But he needs to move, this is Sukuna country! 🗣️

This was such a brilliant update [and breathtaking cliffhanger] because now I'm fully invested in seeing these two end up together no matter what. I want them to destroy it all together [I'm insane].

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 35: Goodbye, Little Red Flower

Content warning: Violence, gore, blood, dismemberment, Sukuna POV at the end.

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

The Breaking Of The Shell - Hunter As a Horse Doom - Alex Terrible

Chapter 34

The light tap on your bare shoulder almost pulls you from the haze of sleep.

Almost.

But you’re too comfortable to move. Too tired. Caught somewhere between peace and exhaustion with barely any thoughts. You drift, resting on whatever softness you lie on. It feels nice. And smells faintly of a warm, crackling fire and a deeper undertone, like marrow buried in the earth. Dense. Grounding.

Another tap, firmer this time, yet still gentle.

“Psst.”

A voice.

“It’s time to wake up.”

When your eyes drift open, you blink and are greeted by the sight of Sukuna’s messy sheets, a ridiculous mountain of pillows, and your form poured out across his futon, flat on your stomach.

Disoriented, you blink again, pushing yourself up slowly. Turning to sit, you face the room, aching in every muscle, body and energy spent. It feels like you could sleep for ages, especially here, wrapped in the decadence of this space.

A soft clearing of a throat breaks the quiet, and you glance left. Pale morning light filters through the garden doors, illuminating Ren standing beside the raised futon. She cradles a bowl of steaming liquid, her expression furrowed in thought.

“Morning,” she says, her voice polite, her head bowing slightly, but her eyes wander to the nearest wall, avoiding you.

You look down.

Oh.

Right.

You’re completely naked.

Muttering a few choice words, you grab the nearest thing—the massive blue quilt and swamp the fabric tightly around your body. It doesn’t take long for the memories of last night to resurface, and all you wish for is the heavy forgetfulness of sleep.

What do you remember?

Ceramics shattering. Sneaking into the King of Curses’ room in the middle of the night to stab him. All the truths that were finally hatched. Then, the forest battle. Your power. The fire arrow. The shouting. Screaming. Kissing. The sex—gods, the sex. Before, the quiet, whispering, “I should have stolen you sooner.” And finally, the monster letting you go, telling you to depart before sunrise, leaving you here, alone, covered in his…

You look down, cheeks burning with mortification as irritation prickles under your skin at the sticky sensation between your legs. There’s a lot. It’s everywhere.

He has two cocks, after all.

Taking a corner of the quilt, you scrub at your inner thighs, uncaring if you stain his sheets. If anything, you hope it leaves a mess—one small, final reminder that you were here. The act feels petty, but you reserve a corner in your mind that he deserves a whole lot more than this.

Let all his sleeps be ruined by crusty sheets.

Prick.

Peering back at Ren, your eyes flicker to the bowl cradled in her hands, which she seems to be directing toward you. The wafting steam smells of the earth, a grassy edge, maybe something sweet.

“What is that?”

Your prickly tone does little but draw her attention back to you. You level her with a stare. The sting of betrayal still crawls around in your mind, and looking at her directly does nothing to settle it.

“It’s a tea, my La—” Her words falter, lip tucking inward to stop herself.

You tug the quilt tighter, a protective shield.

So, the news has already spread throughout the shrine. This sham of a union is over. Eyebrows calmly arching, you wait for her to recover her voice.

“It’s a preventative,” she says, clearing her throat softly, “against anything... unwanted. Master Sukuna didn’t wish you to leave only to become pregnant.”

Her explanation barely registers before you take the bowl from her hands, careful to avoid brushing her skin—an intentional gesture after last night’s incident. No more shattered ceramics.

“How thoughtful of him,” you mumble, peering into the bowl’s murky contents and inhaling.

Despite the bitterness in your words, you know it’s true. Becoming pregnant would be foolish, and, as Ren said, unwanted. With no home, no clan, and no means of support, bringing a child into this life would be reckless.

“Is this what you and Sayuri would drink?”

You take a sip. Hints of over-brewed root and bark nips at your tongue.

“Not often.” Ren makes a humming sound in her chest. “If ever.” She moves across the room to pluck your ruined yukata that still sits as a rumpled pile on the floor. “Normally, he wouldn’t find completion inside us,” she adds, her voice calm, almost factual. “He would withdraw.”

“Oh.”

You avert your stare to the tea again. Taking a longer sip, then two more, you drain the rest in one long swallow. Wiping your mouth, you add, “I suppose I should feel honoured, right?” You tap the ceramic dish once with a finger before setting it down on the sheets.

Again, the bitterness in your words. They aren’t meant for Ren, but they come nonetheless.

Petty, petty.

She doesn’t respond, and standing at the end of the futon, she hesitates before dropping her chin. 

“I don’t mean to be forward, but—” She smooths your discarded garment between her fingers, as if trying to rub out the stains. “You need to leave,” she continues. The new tension winding through her tone has you sitting straighter. “There’s a force advancing toward Master Sukuna’s domain.”

Your brow creases.

“An attack?” Feet finding their way to the floor, you stand with the quilt wrapped around you. “Similar to previous ones?”

Ren shakes her head softly.

“No.” She hands you your yukata, which you take with careful fingers. “Master Sukuna seems more concerned about this. Apparently, it’s much more organized—and from the capital.”

Your pulse makes a dip. Skips a beat or two.

What you had wondered about last night is coming to pass. Heian-kyō is moving to retaliate against Ryomen Sukuna. The course of events likely tracing to what you asked of him nights ago—the destruction of the Kasai clan…

Everyone. Dead.

Those were her words.

You let the quilt fall, and threading your arms through the sleeves of your yukata, you slip inside.

What would they do if they ever laid hands on Sukuna? Unlikely—but does it matter to you anymore?

Do I even care?

Pinching the front panels of the garment closed, you glance around for the sash—your binding from last night—but it’s nowhere to be found.

Before you can ask any further questions, the door slides open.

Uraume steps into the room. Their pink gaze flickers toward you briefly, but it doesn’t remain. Crossing to a chest resting in the corner, their pale hands move to pile several folded garments into their arms.

You stare at them. At the pink strip staining the back of their head.

I trusted you.

Ren shifts beside you, clearing her throat for what feels like the hundredth time. 

“I’ll prepare some of your things for departur—”  

“I trusted you.” Your voice is aimed at Uraume’s back, but your words are meant for both of them.

The pale-haired subordinate’s hands pause. It falls silent. Then they continue while a pained expression passes over Ren’s face. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Did you all just sit around at the end of the day and laugh at me?” you add, teeth clicking shut. “Recount all the stupid things I must have done?”

With a thump, Uraume presses the chest closed. In the dim light, dust motes swirl, dance, and finally settle. They turn to you, head bowing deeply, taking you by surprise.

“I have nothing to say for myself,” they admit, tone sincere. “And whatever you believe, know this—our actions toward you were genuine.”

“Genuine?” Your laugh comes out humourless. “After lying to me this whole time?"

“Yes.”

They pause, then lift their head.

“But.” Their expression cools, and your gaze hardens. “Your intent was to harm Master Sukuna. My loyalty will always remain with him—just as yours has always belonged elsewhere.”

Loyalty?

You huff, frustration rolling around inside your chest.

“Of course my loyalty was elsewhere. I did this to protect my sister.”

Under Uraume’s white bangs, their eyes exchange a wordless glance with Ren before flitting back to you.

Of course, they also didn’t know this—none of them did. Hidden truths and lies are all that bind anyone here.

“It wasn’t something I chose for myself,” you continue. And yet—what choice did either of them have against the word of the King of Curses? Was there a choice at all?

For a moment, Uraume hesitates, as if there’s more they want to say. But they simply bow their head again.

“Be safe.”

Clutching the stack of garments, they turn, slip gracefully into the corridor and disappear.

You stand there quietly before Ren steps briskly toward the door.

“Please,” she murmurs. “It’s time to go.”

Lifting your chin, you follow her from Sukuna’s chambers, sparing one last glance at the mural—the fading seasons, the red bloom sprouting from the snow—before turning away.

Descending the corridor back to your room feels strange, yet familiar, like retracing steps through a place that no longer belongs to you. When you enter, Ren gives you space. You move quickly, taking only what you need for the journey. Everything else, and anything gifted, remains untouched.

Before changing into a dark, plain kimono and hakama, you wipe your body down as best you can with a piece of cloth, ridding yourself of Sukuna’s touch.

With your leather gloves on, you pause in the doorway. The shattered ceramics from last night have been cleaned, leaving no trace of the realizations they pulled forth. Sliding the door open, you turn left, following the long hallway toward the front entrance. You pass the central hall, passing attendants along the way. They move through the corridors with their heads drawn low, not acknowledging you.

And you wonder—had they known about your gift all along? Perhaps that’s why they kept their distance, treating you like a walking, breathing wound.

Or a sickness.

Pushing the massive front doors open, you step outside. The morning drips with light rain, drizzle clinging to the air as fog blankets the ground in a soupy veil.

Everything is grey—dull, grey, muted, lifeless.

No colour. No warmth.

You exhale.

The clipped tap of footsteps behind you draws your gaze back over your shoulder. Ren stands at the mouth of the corridor, her face unreadable.

“Take care of yourself,” you say with a nod. She bows, head lowered, never lifting it.

Forcing a tight smile, you descend the wet stone steps of the shrine. The sodden ground gives beneath your feet as you make your way to the stables. Inside, your gaze sweeps over the stalls, tracing the familiar shapes of Sukuna’s horses, one after another, all accounted for.

So, he’s still here.

You pull open the door where Ayana waits, but a dull thud draws your attention downward.

There in the hay, your sheathed tantō lies, snug in its scabbard.

You stare at it for a heartbeat. Sukuna must have retrieved it, intending for you to take it. Your mouth twitches faintly, but instead of picking it up, you step over it, leaving the weapon where it lies.

A gift given, and one you’ll leave behind.

Ayana greets you with a gentle nudge, her warm breath coasting over your cheek. Huffing softly, the corner of your mouth attempts to rise.

“Ready to go, girl?” you murmur, circling her with a reassuring pat. Her dappled coat is smooth, brushed to a shine, clear that someone has taken care of her.

“We’ll ride toward the capital. Yuna will likely be waiting there for us,” you say, running a soothing hand along her neck before reaching for the bridle slung over the nearest beam. You begin fitting it over her head, your gloved hands steady as you secure the tack.

“And when this is all over, I’ll find you a place with real pastures. Somewhere with soft grass and open space, plenty of room to run wild.” You adjust the straps. “I’ll bring you something good too. Maybe sweet chestnuts. Or apples from some market we find along the way, the kind that smells like warm honey.”

She whinnies, and you smile at her.

“Freedom. Choices.” You give her a final pat. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

The creak of the stable door opening makes your head tilt slightly. You pause. The heavy footfalls arrive like an approaching storm, the rustle of fabric a whisper, sending searing heat down your spine.

Sukuna’s footsteps might as well be stomping around inside your chest—all loud and disquieting.

But instead of hiding, you keep your focus on Ayana, and don’t look up. You continue preparing her, hands moving with careful precision.

Still, you can’t ignore the faint trace of his energy brushing against you, prodding—almost as if in greeting.

You force yourself to ignore it. To breathe.

You can block it out, can’t you? If nothing else, you’ve learned this much—you are far stronger than you ever realized.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep and low into your belly.

Slowly, the oppressive hum of him dulls. Quieted, but not gone. Never entirely gone.

A stall door groans open. One of his many horses lets out a low chuff, and then his voice—deep and quiet—fills the space, murmuring soft, soothing words to the beast. The familiar clink of buckles follows, the slow pull of leather straps.

He’s leaving now too.

You quicken your pace, finishing swiftly to avoid a final confrontation.

With the saddle fastened, you mount Ayana and steer her toward the main doors, keeping your focus locked ahead—nowhere else. A firm nudge to her side, and you burst from the stables, refusing to acknowledge the flash of red eyes snapping toward you as you race past.

No lasting glances. No words. No goodbye.

Nothing.

You’re already gone.

Erupting down the dirt-packed road with the wind tearing through your hair, the rain picks up. But you don’t mind. This is a first taste of freedom.

Pressed between the towering, muted trees at your sides and the endless curve of the grey sky above, Ayana surges forward, her hooves slicing through shallow puddles.

It all blurs. You don’t look back.

But it doesn’t take long before your mare’s gallop is drowned out by the thundering of hooves from behind.

Before you can turn, Sukuna suddenly appears beside you, his massive warhorse cutting across your path. Ayana rears back with a startled cry, and you grip the reins tightly to steady her, heart pounding as he pulls alongside.

Slowly, he comes into focus.

You haven’t met his gaze since last night, seen his face since that vulnerable moment when he was buried deep inside you, when he turned you away.

Now, eyes finding yours, they move across you, and something fractures behind the scarlet hue of his stare.

He looks so different from only hours ago. Before, he had been lost in pleasure—or whatever other tumultuous emotions had circled in his mind.

Now, he looks ready for war.

A dark charcoal kimono and hakama stretches over his broad frame, the long spear strapped to his back a promise of violence. He appears as a shadow against the pale morning, cut from a deep wound, a stain.

And yet—

Tiny droplets of rain cling to him, softening the edges. Beads dot his lashes, dampen his pink hair to a deeper shade of blush. His eyes blink against the drizzle, and for a moment, the storm touches him too.

Hands loosening on Ayana’s reins, you part your lips to ask why he’s come—only for him to reach forward and crush something against your sternum.

Your chin tilts downward. Pressed against your chest is a thick stack of parchment, its edges curling from the damp. Reaching for them, your gloved fingers brush against the soaked paper, and you avoid his hand. Then your gaze drops lower, catching on the seal pressed into the front. A snake, coiled in red.

They are letters.

Your letters.

The ones he took.

Your eyes snap back to the King of Curses. He looms over you, his upper left arm still closing the space, palm flat against you. He looks out of place, oddly quiet, like he wants to speak but can’t quite force the words free.

Your grip on the reins shifts, leather creaking—the only sound above the steady patter of rain and the breath of the two horses.

Three heartbeats pass before he finally speaks.

“Be careful,” he mumbles lowly, pressing his hand more firmly as though unwilling to let go. His brow furrows. The way he looks at you—it’s there. If only he could unburden himself, let the words crawl free, you might listen.

You wait.

But his mouth and throat are fortified, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that aches.

“Stay off the main road. Don’t ride east, it’s dangero—”

“Goodbye, my Lord.” 

Composed. Formal. Chin lifted.

Your interruption makes him hesitate, lip twitching—before, at last, he releases you. Slowly. Reluctantly. And it’s that reluctance on his face that makes him look like a man who’s taken another blade to the neck and doesn’t understand how.

What does he expect? 

Again, you’ve given him pieces of yourself. And again, he has taken.

The thought twists.

Ruiner.

Tucking the letters deep into the front panels of your kimono, you turn away. Without a backward glance, you guide Ayana forward, and the space separating you stretches wide—like the unseen divide that always existed between your two rooms at the shrine.

Ayana surges ahead. The world blurs into gold and brown. But you only get so far before something inside tugs—an invisible thread pulling too tight.

You risk a glance back.

There’s a final flash of red clinging to you before vanishing, swallowed by the fog and rain, and the four-armed demon dissolves into the grey.

* * * * *

You don’t ride for long before finding a place beyond the main trail to dismount. Under the shelter of a sprawling oak, your mare slows, and you pull the letters from the safety of your kimono.

Settling onto a cold slab of rock, its damp surface seeping through your layers, you decide it’s time to read through them—if only to chase away the feeling clawing at your chest.

An odd ache of sorts.

Glancing down at the parchment in your hands—there are many. Some remain folded and untouched. While others have been folded and refolded, their creases worn soft, as if read over again and again.

Why Sukuna felt the need to keep them hidden, you’re unsure.

Taking the first from the top, you ease it open and begin.

Dearest Sister, I hope this letter comes to you well. Court life has been a marvel—every day feels like stepping into the poetry of a dream. The noblewomen are endlessly graceful, and I’ve started lessons to refine my own gestures and speech. Did you know there’s even a proper way to arrange robes for an audience? It’s all so fascinating, and I feel I’m learning so much. Yuna

Your brow drops. You set it aside and retrieve another.

Dearest Sister, I’ve had the opportunity to meet several suitors from other clans, Zen’in, Kamo. I’m still waiting to meet a man from the Sugawara clan, said to have silver hair and striking blue eyes like the open sea. The others carry themselves differently, some with charm, others with an air of superiority. I wonder what they saw when they looked at me. Yuna

You drag your eyes away from the elegant script, rifling through the stack before selecting another.

Dearest Sister, The dango here is unlike anything I’ve ever tasted. Soft, sweet, with just the slightest hint of char that, regrettably, left me with a terrible stomach ache. I lack restraint, but how could I when they were served on—

Enough.

Your fingers curl into the parchment.

What kind of letters are these? Not a single word asks about your well-being or safety. Not a single inquiry into how you are being treated at the shrine. She speaks only of herself, every sentence orbiting around her.

Jaw clenching, you shuffle through the rest, searching for a kind word—anything that isn’t self-indulgent. But there’s nothing. It’s always about Yuna. It always has been.

She is the protected.

You, the protector.

She, the gem.

You, the trinket, shoved into a corner.

Her, lovely.

You, anything but.

You’ve convinced yourself time and time again that your needs were never worthy, that you were deemed undeserving. Yet despite her volatile upbringing—one so similar to your own—she could still show you some hint of compassion, some fragment of concern. Couldn’t she?

You keep searching, keep looking, and still, nothing.

A crack runs through your heart, a fractious crumbling. Ridiculous to feel this way. All this from a few damn letters. But you swallow and flip through the papers once more, unfolding and refolding.

There has to be something. 

Your fingers halt on a small, unmarked letter, the parchment lightly stained, its surface rough, absent of any emblem. Discreet. You unfold it slowly, revealing the familiar ink strokes of your father’s handwriting.

For a moment, you simply blink, looking down at the ramblings of a dead man—a man you killed—staring back at you.

To my youngest daughter. I will make this brief. If I am no longer here, I have one simple and final request to offer you. Do not trust the next head of the Kasai clan. Trust no one. Trust yourself. Trust your memories, but know that the mind is a terrible thing when touched. While you remain in the south, under the creature’s eyes, remember your mother. Remember her. Remember. And for all the harm I have caused you, I can only hope that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me. Your Father. Kasai Takuma.

You stare at it, chest tight.

Forgive him?

Forgive him?

The thought alone feels impossible. A delusion he has no right to ask for. A fucking fool’s errand.

Your eyes sting.

Crumpling the letter, you toss it aside, letting it sink into the wet grass.

The thought burns at you, picking. You push to your feet, pace in agitation, eyes fixed on the wadded paper while the damp earth begins to swallow it whole.

“The mind is a terrible thing when touched…” you murmur, watching the letter start to cave in on itself. “What the hell does that even mean?”

The ink starts to bleed.

Your mouth twitches.

With an exhale, you step closer, grabbing it before moisture can fully soak through, then stare at it again, reading it over and over until his nonsense is memorized.

Because something about this feels wrong. Bone-deep, wrong.

The Kasai clan was destroyed days ago. There is no clan head. No power. No influence.

Once, I think I cared for you, just like your mother had, but I forgot what that felt like.

Your father’s words wander back, unbidden. The same words he spoke before you stabbed him in the throat.

“You’re not making any sense, you bastard.”

Sighing, you let your head fall back, neck tilting as your eyes drift skyward. The rain has passed, but the clouds linger heavy, dragging their swollen bellies close to the earth.

Your heartbeat slows.

Remember.

Remember…

Remember what?

Closing your eyes, you take a long, deep breath. Calm.

Remember.

Remember…

I remember a breeze. A whisper in the dark.

“How are you feeling?”

Your gaze snaps open as a choking scent invades your nose.

A smell.

That smell.

Smoke.

Leather gloves creaking, you curl your hands into fists as your eyes lift to the east, catching sight of thick, dark plumes rising, streaking the sky in an ugly stain of ash.

Something’s burning.

* * * * *

Elsewhere, in a village to the east, some time later…

Screaming. Yelling. Crying.

Flames lick at the grey sky. Huts on fire. Villagers running in every direction.

The King of Curses knows no mercy. Even surrounded by ten, twenty, fifty men, he fights. And when Sukuna fights, he fights viciously. Violently. He fights alone.

From across the burning, crumbling village, five assailants throw themselves toward him all at once. With Hiten out, the demon’s hold on his cursed energy is loose, and he responds in kind.

The first man arrives, swinging his katana with misplaced triumph, aiming for his weapon hand. The sharp edge of the blade descends with a high-pitched wail, but before he can take another step, his blood and guts are already smeared across the ground.

As easy as splitting an overripe peach.

Sukuna grins at the mess and laughs, then lifts his chin from the warm, wet, glistening heap. 

Three more follow.

He’s ready. Muscles in his chest swollen, the upper half of his kimono slung at his waist, four arms draped at his side, he steps forward to meet them.

For a heartbeat, as he moves, the energy of a lesser sorcerer rolls up against him in annoying fits and spurts. It’s distracting, a bit of a nuisance. Lip peeling back, he ignores it, his focus returning to the rushing of feet toward him, the advancing trio moving with well-trained precision.

But training means nothing in the presence of a many-faced monster.

Garments snapping in the heat of battle, Sukuna takes in the insignias woven into their attire—men from Heian-kyō and the Zen’in clan. The latter, he knows, is behind the constant attacks on his domain. For the past month, they’ve pushed his patience, having sat in league with the Kasai clan. Were.

There’s a bright red flash.

A spasm of energy hurtles toward him.

Dodging, he slides into a wide stance, sandals gripping the damp soil. His upper right arm lifts, two fingers poised. Scarlet eyes burn.

Flick!

A sharp hiss rips through the air.

The three men stagger to a stop, shudder, then split apart—torsos sliding cleanly from their hips, their bodies fall in halves to the ground with meaty thuds.

Veins, cartilage, bone, tissue, muscle.

Sometimes, Sukuna enjoys dragging out a fight—testing his opponent’s limits, squeezing out every last drop of potential.

Not today.

Today, he fights to kill. Today, he wants to see eyes wrench wide, watch insides spill pink, feel flesh tear under his hands. The slick heat of blood—he needs it. Needs to drown out the colour of snowmelt, the vision slipping long out of reach.

Pitiful.

He lets himself feel fucking pathetic for one second before turning to the last man in his vicinity.

There are still more to kill.

Lots more.

“Come on!” His canines flash.

He feels insane. Drunk. Blood drunk. Bloodlust.

He wants more. So much more.

The final man raises his hands, fingers aligning into some kind of hand sign.

“Thrilling.” Sukuna’s demonic grin pulls wider.

With a smooth motion, his lower left arm draws back, halberd poised.

He releases it.

The incantation barely leaves the sorcerer’s throat before the blades sink snugly into his windpipe. The man’s cries mutate into animalistic sounds as he crumples to his knees, then collapses onto his back, eyes fixed on the ashen sky.

“How boring,” the King of Curses mutters, stepping closer to the body.

Planting his foot on the lifeless chest, he leans into it, dislodging Hiten from the ruined neck with a slick, hideous squelch.

“Such a waste to use this here,” he scowls, turning the bloodied weapon in his hand with a reverent eye. “It deserves far worthier opponents…” Lowering the haft to the dirt, he lets the blade rest upright. “Perhaps another time.”

He lifts his attention from the spear, falling on the remains of the sprawling village, surveying where the chaos takes shape.

The pests of the Zen’in clan and men from the capital swarm the dirt paths between ruined huts, fire stinging the air as they rip the place apart. He catches sight of others lingering at the edges, biding their time, waiting, but he’s not sure for what.

Four eyes sweeping to the fields beyond, he sees they’re smothered in ash, the homes already burned to the ground before his arrival. This village—once the heart of this domain northeast of the shrine—is as good as lost. Survivors, mostly women and children, pick their way through the wreckage or scatter into the surrounding wilds. Few converge in the distance, forming a group as they attempt to flee toward the tree line—only to be cut down or dragged away.

A month ago, the situation wasn’t this dire. Then again, a month ago, everything was very different. But this assault feels… calculated.

As he moves toward another cluster of assailants, that same flicker of lesser energy brushes against him, making his brow crease in irritation. Again, he ignores it, too busy weighing his next opponent.

Out of nowhere, two horses rush past, their riders racing in the direction he came from. 

South. 

A warning rings out inside his mind, and he doesn’t hesitate to move.

Abandoning the village, Sukuna tracks them, his massive form cutting through the terrain. With a flick of his wrist, the first rider is ripped from the saddle, slamming against the earth.

The second man continues, veering deeper into the brush. 

He doesn’t make it far. 

With a single swipe, Sukuna cleaves through flesh and bone, severing the rider’s leg mid-gallop. The limb hits the ground first. The man follows, crashing into the undergrowth. His horse bolts, vanishing into the trees, leaving its master mutilated in the dirt, groaning in agony.

Through the thicket, the King of Curses moves slowly. Blood pools beneath the mangled figure, staining the rain-softened earth dark. Sukuna reaches him and kneels, fingers curling into the man's battle attire—a layered mix of padded silk and hemp, suited for a warrior of Heian-kyō’s polished courts yet built for combat. Hiten shifts at his side as Sukuna hauls the man upright, their faces close enough that he can taste the sour tang of his breath, can see the fear stretching lines in his features.

“Why are you here?” Sukuna’s voice is a bored, guttural drone.

What he said must have been funny, because his trembling prey smiles at him, baring a row of gummy teeth.

Oh.

Sukuna chuckles.

How sweet.

Canting his head like an animal, the monster’s lower right hand finds its way to the dismembered leg. His fingers crawl deep into the raw, bleeding cavity until the man’s mouth opens in a scream.

“I’ll ask again,” he drawls, pinching an artery between firm fingers. “Why are you here?”

“To collect!” the warrior croaks in pain, blood bubbling onto his chin, some managing to spill onto the mossy ground.

Sukuna’s grip loosens—slightly.

“To collect what?”

Sweat slithers down the man’s brow to settle in the hollow of his cheek. 

“You,” he wheezes, then the grin from before returns, overtaking his shuddering expression. “And to take that whore of a wife off your hands.”

Sukuna’s face turns solid. Emotionless. He says nothing. Even when he imagines tearing the man’s jaw free from its roots, leaving him to choke on his own bile and blood.

“You are sentenced to death for the crimes against the Kasai clan,” he continues, glee painting his words even as his skin pales like a corpse. “Your wife stands accused of conspiracy and treason for instigating a coup.”

Sukuna’s jaw sets. He removes his fingers from inside the bloody stump.

“But, she’s wanted alive.” The man pauses. “There are far greater plans for her.”

The monster’s expression darkens.

“And who said she had anything to do with it?” His teeth are bared despite himself.

Patience.

“A witness,” the warrior sneers. “Someone of higher influence than both of you.”

“Fuck your so-called witness. It means nothing to me,” Sukuna hisses, yanking the man forward until their noses nearly touch. “The Kasai clan is gone. I took them apart.” 

“No.” The man wheezes out a laugh, then licks his bloodied bottom lip. “Not all of them.”

The King of Curses already knows this. And he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the accusations, the sentence placed upon him. Let them call him a criminal, a demon, a cannibal, disgraced, wretched—he’s heard it all before. But you? That’s… a different creature entirely.

His fingers flex around the warrior’s clothing, crumpling it further in his grip.

“Who?”

The man’s grin spreads grotesquely wide, every tooth on display.

“The new head of the Kasai clan.” He starts to laugh, his head lolling back in wild abandon.

Only then does Sukuna notice the eyes, the pupils—blown wide, unnaturally so.

“And she’s magnificent.” She. “You’ll see. You’ll see when—”

With a harsh twist, the man’s face is wrenched sideways. His laughter cuts off. Bones splinter. Flesh stretches. Pulls. Tears. 

Sukuna doesn’t stop.

He rips the jaw clean from the warrior’s skull. Blood sprays across him in a fine mist. Holding the chunky mass of bone and tissue in his hand, he turns it slowly between his fingers as though admiring a beautiful flower. Below him, his victim collapses to the ground, his hands flying up to claw at the gaping red hole where his mouth once was. But there’s nothing, and his screams are reduced to wet, gurgling sounds as his body twitches in pain.

“Magnificent, was it?” Rising to his full height, Sukuna drops the shattered jaw. “Let’s see how magnificent Yuna Kasai is when I’m done with her.”

Without sparing another look, he turns, leaving the man to suffer, and saunters back toward the village.

As he walks, he collects everything, thinks about the manipulative little bitch who has finally revealed her hand—turning against you, usurping what remains of the Kasai clan, setting everything into motion.

Like a slow-working poison. And by the time you realize what she’s done, it will be too late.

Once your eyes have opened, it will destroy you.

And after all this, he let you go—knowing full well you were no longer safe.

Safe.

He scrubs a hand across his face, then runs it through his hair, fingers dragging through clotted blood and sweat. With another hand, he grips Hiten, shifting its weight as he slides the weapon’s haft into his obi, the blade rising over his shoulder, still within reach.

Walking out of the tree line, the village comes into view, and that same pressure as before pushes against his senses—a slow, drugging pulse in his veins. Drugging in the way that it’s familiar... 

Sukuna slows, then stops, cocks his head to the side, all his senses straining.

That lesser energy he’s been feeling. Not lesser, just untamed energy. It reaches across him like a stranger but still familiar—known, but not entirely. The face of someone he once knew but never fully understood, even if he wished he had.

But that’s impossible.

Because it’s yours.

Your cursed energy. Here.

You are here.

Why the hell are you here? You can’t be. You were far from this place. He had told you not to ride east. So why does it feel like he’s breathing you in again? Hadn’t he finally rid himself of your presence?

And yet.

Spurts of it tell him something else.

You are here. And you are… fighting.  

His four eyes roll across the surroundings, searching. There’s a wisp of it. He feels it. Then, he moves.

Carving his way through any assailant even as they lunge at him, he slips past every strike, every arc of steel, and every flicker of energy that flares to life.  

Delving back deeper into the village, fire cracks. The wind shifts. Smoke spills down his throat, and the warm scent of death thickens, layered with fouler scents.  

Decay.  

His gaze narrows.  

He moves faster.

The ground slopes under his feet. A natural dip in the land, where runoff pools from the rain. Down past charred remains of a market stall, he steps over a corpse. 

More signs.

Footprints trailing through the dirt, the grass at their edges reduced to black husks. Ash curling over withered reeds. It only goes so far before the rot stops.

Your work.  

He lifts his head.

The village stretches forward, its wreckage bisected by a narrow road snaking through the center. 

More corpses litter the ground. Not just dead—ruined.

Darkness eats at the edges of their skin, flesh slack and mottled, collapsed inward. Their chests yawn open, ribs gaping, organs spilled like spoiled fruit.

So this is the full extent of your power—all from a single touch.

He pauses, taking it in—the tattered scraps of the dead’s clothing, the insignias barely visible through falling soot and ash.

Heian-kyō and Zen’in.

Sukuna steps over the bodies. Another corpse shudders in its final moments, a rattling hiss as bones slump into a heap of innards.

Fresh.

You were here moments ago.  

He breathes it in, takes it in, the reeking taste of sick life on his tongue.  

You’re messy. Inefficient. Brutal. Room for error.

His lip curls.

Reckless woman.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growls, stepping over another pile of split torsos and soured meat. But there it is—your pulse, steady through this slaughter.

Skirting a half-collapsed hut, he follows its pull.

Then, a desperate cry cracks the air.

He stops.

Goes still.

Listens.

His ears catch the sting of metal, the shuffle of hurried feet, and a crowd of voices. 

But it’s you. 

He knows this.

Through the shambles, down shallow alleys, past collapsed walls where fire has eaten at wood and thatch—he moves.

The pulse of your cursed energy bleeds stronger.

The noise ahead swells.

Laughter.

Jeering voices. Too loud.

He rounds the last ruin and steps into an open stretch of the village square.

In the distance, a cluster of men stands in a tight mass all shouting and revelling. Teeth flashing, voices raised as though they’ve just brought down something great.

As though they’ve won.

He moves closer.

The ravenous crowd parts like a vein split open, but there’s no beast lying at their feet.

There’s only you.

The Zen’in clan and men from the capital have you.

Their hands claw at you—pulling, dragging, yanking—before shoving you face-first into the slick mud. Your arms are wrenched behind your back, leather gloves missing, exposing discoloured fingers and hands.

Beside you, one man yanks Ayana’s reins, his knuckles tight around the leather. The mare screams, bucking wildly, panic twitching through every strained muscle. Kicking up dirt, she fights to break free.

But it isn’t enough.

She is losing.

And so are you.

Thrashing, you fight like a wild creature ripped straight from the forest, meant to be bound and butchered.

And you don’t stop. Not even when a man straddles your back, his knees digging into you as he shoves a dirtied strip of cloth between your teeth, wrapping it tight around your head, forcing your cries to collapse into muffled rage. Then he adjusts his grip and pulls. Your spine wrenches into a painful bow, body buckling under heavy weight.

You scream.

And—

Livid. Fucking. Fury.

Clarity comes to a sharpened point.

Jaw clenched, it's incredible how the violence hits Sukuna all at once—so forceful he's certain his teeth crack down to the marrow.

But that isn’t the worst of it.

Another man steps around your struggling form, gripping a branding iron. Its tip glows—a hot, furious thing. Your right arm is wrenched back, palm up, pinned to the ground.

That’s when he understands this condemnation.

裏切り

Traitor. Betrayer.

They’re going to brand you. 

You must feel the heat licking at your skin because he sees your eyes go wild with terror. Sees the moment the screams rip harder from your throat, gag soaking with it.

This sight before him.

The sound of you struggling, fighting, handled like prey—after everything—this is all it takes.

He understands it instantly, viscerally, and an ugliness crawls within him, a weapon unsheathed. That same feeling, the one that gripped him last night slides over his being, the one he felt before he followed you into the forest. That repetition of tiny words all to form a much grander thing.

His.

Always.

But he doesn’t name it. Doesn’t think it. Doesn’t breathe it back into existence.

You were never truly his to begin with.

Sukuna takes a step.

Something must alert you to his presence, because your gaze cuts through the crowd and finds him. And you are furious. Eyes screaming into him, eyes screaming at him. And with that look, the first threads of his restraint toward you fall apart.

The King of Curses takes another patient step. 

He doesn’t need to run.

Time bends for him.

And everyone here will be dead in a heartbeat.

If only he knew of the quiet blade being drawn behind him.

[blackbird5154]

𖤐 Encyclopedia of Terzo 𖤐

I've been thinking a lot about how the personality of Papa III was created. Tobias set the basic framework, the archetype, the cliché from which he drew. But the real implementation of Papa was on stage, where his image developed through improvisation. Some things were conceived on purpose, some were invented on the spot, some came out unplanned, due to circumstances. Papa turned out to be as lively and unpredictable as life itself. In many senses, he lived on stage.

Thanks to the research of concerned fans, there is quite a lot of material. It occurred to me to collect them in one post for those who want to get acquainted with the canonical image of Terzo. This catalogue uses materials from two users, Cityofmeliora's and myself. You can use them for fanfiction or just for your own amusement. So, allow me to introduce Papa Emeritus III!

Cityofmeliora: Transcriptions and facts

Radley @cityofmeliora has an academic degree in Terzo Studies. He did a great job watching probably 100% of the Terzo videos and bringing us some interesting insights about his personality from the Terzo mines.

▸ notes / thoughts on Terzo's characterization (Terzo is so disappointed and depressed and i love him)

▸ Terzo's mom was mentioned twice

▸ quotes on Secondo and Terzo's age gap / the Emeritus brothers having different mothers

▸ TF on the archetype of Papa

▸ about Terzo's height...

▸ Terzo's sweet tooth 🍰🍫

▸ Secondo lied about being able to speak Swedish, and Terzo lied about *not* being able to speak Swedish

▸ according to the Nameless Ghouls, Terzo is better than Secondo because he has hair and is "less smelly" 😂😂

▸ TF breaks character a little too much and accidentally makes it canon that Terzo has a child 💀👶

▸ Who is Mysterious Spectre?

▸ transcript: Terzo's first concert - Linköping, Sweden (June 3, 2015)

▸ transcript: Sweden Rock Festival (June 4, 2015)

▸ Terzo lying about his knowledge of Swedish AGAIN!

▸ Terzo talking about his mom <3

▸ Papa Nihil taught his sons to sing

▸ Terzo hates it when people are bad at clapping 👏👏👏

▸ Terzo knows he's always yapping <3

▸ Terzo is hard of hearing 🦻

▸ Terzo did WHAT in Poland? 😳

▸ Terzo totally not bragging about his Grammy 🙄

▸ Terzo + children 🥰

▸ Terzo had eye infections???

▸ "And it is very important that you respect the fact that there are kids and there are"

▸ Terzo thinks 'Cirice' is a sad song

▸ Terzo getting angry

▸ Terzo's fucked up sore throat voice 🤒

▸ Terzo mentioning Secondo 😎

▸ Terzo mentions his parents 🧑‍🤝‍🧑

▸ Terzo + family 👪

▸ Terzo + being old 👴

▸ Terzo saying quesadillas are his favorite food 🧀

▸ Terzo is NOT a fluent / native Italian speaker 🤭🇮🇹

▸ Terzo + musical instruments 🎹🎸🥁🎺

▸ Terzo hates it when people pronounce "Meliora" incorrectly ☝️🤓

▸ What does terzology know about the overthrow of Papa III?

▸ sad, sad Terzo + 'If You Have Ghosts' 🌙

🆕 Terzo is "an isolated kind of guy"

🆕 Terzo's clothes are too big for him 👖

🆕 Terzo talks about Ghost visiting Philadelphia the same week as pope francis ✝️

🆕 Terzo + poor balance + falling ⚠️

Blackbird: Observations and analysis

My modest contribution to terzology was an attempt to summarise observations and look inside the head of the mysterious Papa III.

▸ Part 1: Terzo's responsible attitude to work

▸ Part 2: The jokes about height

▸ Part 3: The relationship between Terzo and Secondo

▸ Part 4: The ideas behind the birds and the bees speech

▸ Part 5: Terzo's other beliefs that he broadcast

▸ Part 6: Terzo and his loneliness

▸ Part 7: Terzo is referring to Cartesian philosophy?

🆕 Part 8: Papa lll's special kung fu

[ckret2]

Your fic has given me "sees Bill as an actual rounded character now" disease so all of the funny fanarts that reduce him to just the pathetic ex guy or to looser idiot triangle i found funny before annoy me slightly now and I'm blaming you

that's honestly hilarious because I'm having the opposite experience

I wasn't deep in Gravity Falls fandom during the peak Tumblr Sexyman Bill Cipher years—I watched the show one time and forgot about it for ~4 years—but I was close enough to see it happening on my dash. And the suave, sophisticated, infinitely in-control Bill characterization was ubiquitous throughout tumblr—the "tailor-made to dom in an x reader fic" characterization where 90% of the emotions he demonstrates are "smirking" and "brooding but in a cool way." (those are emotions now.) Some works would go as far as to say that Bill's mind was simply too alien to be relatable to a human. Most of the works featuring him with Ford depicted Ford as completely enthralled with Bill, naively worshiping the ground he floats over, while Bill was usually depicted as cool, distant, disinterested, at best faintly amused by his human toy. In fanworks like that, the idea that Bill could possibly have been distraught by losing hold of Ford was unthinkable.

And that was common enough—the cool, aloof villain—that it's jarring to go from absorbing that via osmosis for years to rewatching the show and remembering oh right, he's a bit of a dweeb that hollers at people through sock puppets and freaks out when the cops bust in on his red solo cup party.

By the time I started my fic in 2023 the sexyman Bill had died down enough that I found other folks exploring his goofy side, but it still seemed like any time I ducked in on ao3 looking for Bill-centric works, I still saw echoes of that old fanon characterization more often than not.

So for me? It's been great seeing fanworks depicting Bill as an emotionally devastated, blubbering mess over losing his favorite pawn. It's been great seeing fanworks that allow him to be a loser, a failure, a dork, sometimes bumbling or in over his head or sticking his foot in his mouth. Hell yeah! This is what I've been missing for years!

Maybe it'll get annoying eventually but right now it just feels like it's finally balancing him out.

[radioapple-heathen]

My Top 10 Radioapple Fic 'Series' Recs

I've been working on this for a while. With nearly 4k fics for this ship on A03 (at the time of me writing this rec list), it can be difficult to find gems. I was really grateful for the rec lists I stumbled upon when I first joined this fandom, and I want to share the fics that have changed my brain chemistry with both newcomers and oldtimers alike. As with all rec lists, this list is completely subjective and curtailed to my tastes/preferences. I'm also sure this list will change with time as more fics get added to the fandom. As of mid-2024 though, here's where I'm at.

For background, I am an acespec 30+ married woman with ADHD raising a AuDHD child, and I appreciate fics that handle these aspects with respect and care. I've also been in fandom/writing for 20+ years, never professionally, always for fun.

My fic preferences:

I gravitate towards crisp prose that is sophisticated but not weighed down by excessive $5 dollar words. I like my fic like I like my food: digestible. The writing doesn't have to be perfect (typos and grammatical errors happen, that I can deal with) but the characterization is important to me.

I gravitate towards top!Lucifer because Alastor is a prissy little power bottom, but there are certainly exceptions to that on this list. At my core, though, I think they're switches with preferences.

I gravitate towards fics that have a nice balance of plot and romance, preferably leaning more towards the latter. I read fanfic for the relationship so if the plot supersedes the 'radioapple'-ness, I tend to find myself drifting/skimming, before giving up altogether.

I gravitate towards fics in sub <200k. Again this is an attention thing, no fault of the author, people loveee long fics. But often, even if I'm loving a fic, I'm like okay, where are we going with this? Again, some exceptions, which I'll highlight below.

I can be picky about my slow burns, like if it takes 100k to hold hands, I'll prob pass? BUT THIS IS JUST ME AND I HAVE THE ATTENTION SPAN OF A GOLDFISH AND I WANT TO FORCE THEIR HEADS TOGETHER AND MAKE THEM KISS ASAP?????

I gravitate towards genderfluid or intersex Lucifer, he's a shapeshifter and an angel, it just.. makes sense to me.

I have a preference for M or E-rated fics. I just really love the vulnerability and character development that can be explored through intimacy, especially in re: to Alastor's ace-ness. And what can I say? I wanna read about twink king getting it on with his deer man. That being said, I do have some T+ recs in my multi-chap/oneshot rec list.

Anyways. With all that said, let's get into the actual fics. Note, this isn't an exhaustive list, I could rec fics forever, there's so much talent in this fandom. These are just the ones that have altered my genetic makeup.

Top 10 Series

1.) All changed, changed utterly by @tollingreminiscentbells

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Alastor for installments 1-5. Last installment (6) it switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

This is actually my favorite radioapple fic/series in the entire fandom. This series has rendered me somehow both speechless and bursting at the seams with praise. The writing is superb, the prose is elegant, but also easy to parse. Alastor meeting Lucifer as a human (and then again, in Hell) is by far my favorite trope of this ship, and this author takes said trope and weaves it into a masterpiece. The way they write Lucifer’s character (grieved by wrongs and loss, ancient and capable and so, so loving) is such a joy. And Alastor, god. I personally find Alastor’s POV tricky to write. He is a very complex character with a very specific narration voice, whimsical and deadly and clever and emotional stunted and possessive of what's his — which in this case, is Lucifer. I will never be able to sing enough praises. It truly cemented my love for this wonderful, complex, violently loving ship.

2.) Between the Shadow & the Soul by winterveritas

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

This author will pop up several times because everything they touch is gold. I really love this take on the radioapple dynamic where Alastor is rather smitten from the start, because I feel like many fics drag him kicking and screaming into admitting he cares (mine included, no shade). But like, Winter is able to write him this way while still keeping him in-character imo, and I just... love it???

3.) Lucifer and his Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by @keelywolfe

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

You might actually be living under a rock if you haven't read this series. If that's the case, I IMPLORE YOU, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, read this series. It has one of the best Lucifer's narration voices I've ever read. Also, it has one of my favorite tropes: "slow burn but they're fucking the whole time." AND AND AND intersex!top!Lucifer, YES PLEASE???? This series also is one of my 'typical attention span for fics' exceptions because it just hit 200k, and I am still 100% invested. I could read about these two idiots forever.

4.) Wicked Game by TrashDemonX

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Alastor. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Not gonna lie, I went into this with the idea of just like, Smut Galore (and it is, bless), but it's actually become just a fascinating character study on Alastor. Impeccable writing, and there is currently one chapter left of part 3 AND I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FOR IT???? This is a top!Alastor fic but Lucifer isn't like a pillow princess, my man is involved and so for me, it works well. I can't say enough about how WELL this author writes Alastor's voice. Again, not an easy feat imo.

5.) Radioapple Broadcast by blatantblue

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Alastor for Part 1, Lucifer for Part 2, Alastor for Part 3. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes: This was a positive JOY. Incredible writing and storytelling. Dom/sub undertones which is a huge plus for me, especially when Alastor is the sub. I reread this series often (and I usually am not a huge reread-er unless its been a while), but this is just a comfort fic, I think.

6.) Cataclysmic Cathechism by @wyldefire-writings

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Lucifer. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: MPreg.

Notes:

I am about to show my entire ass right now but this series. My LORD.

Not gonna lie, MPreg was actually a squick for me before I joined this fandom/ship, but after reading this fic specifically, I'm now like, Al, my deer, my main man, knock that KoH the fuck up. Honestly, this was such a ride, and both of the boys were written SO WELL. Also, this author has the funniest A/N's I've ever had the pleasure of reading.

7. Hunger Pains by @theaffablescamp

Series: In Progress. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

Excellent writing and some very intriguing plot happening right now. Has arguably the most intense wing preening session I have ever read that legit lives rent free in my head. Another "slow burn but they're fucking the whole time" fic which is just delightful.

8.) machinations by fiveandnocents

Series: Complete. Rated: T-M. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-canon. Notable Warnings: None.

Notes:

AHH I love this so much. Essentially, Alastor strikes up a relationship with Lucifer, as a means to manipulate him AND THE IDIOT FALLS IN LOVE UGHHH. It's chef's kiss. Spectacular characterization, this could be canon, and I'd be like yep, this happens in season 2, haha.

9.) By Name by @eunicorne

Series: Complete. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Genre: Canon Divergence/Post-Canon. Notable Warnings: Gore, Consensual Murder? He regens, it's fine.

Notes:

So. I will continue to show my ass. As a note, I don't like violence/gore for violence's sake but when there are BDSM undertones and aftercare, I'm a fucking goner. This was one of my first dives into very dark aspects of radioapple, and I.. my brain chemistry has been altered by this series.

10.) imagine being loved by me by deliciously deviant

Series: In-Progress. Rated: E. POV: Switches. Notable Warnings: Gore, Consensual Cannibalism, I have never met a deader dove.

Notes:

Incredible writing and character voices BUT HOLY SHIT not for the weak or even average stomach. Again, I am soft for the whole, "I'm gonna cause you pain that you want/need to get out of your head" and I feel like I couldn't leave this rec out just bc of the content matter, but I am serious, read at your own risk.

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT. If you have any series recs of your own, feel free to share in the comments!

I also have my top 10 Multi-Chaptered (non-series) and top 10 oneshots recs list in my drafts rn, I'll be posting those in the next few days!

[battlekidx2]

I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.

Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.

The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)

I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).

Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )

Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy

The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)

They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.

They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.

Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:

Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!

The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus

I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!

The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)

Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.

Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).

The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.

I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.

I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.

My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)

LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.

The Cure for Inexorable Boredom

Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)

Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)

Don't Say It

I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.

I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.

I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).

These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D

[holystressresponsebatman]

Hot take, but I think every new iteration of TMNT has something different to offer the fandom. One is not better than the other besides a fan’s personal preferences.

Like the fans of ‘87 turtles are always gushing about the pure comedic gold they had to offer.

2003 turtles gave us a darker, grittier view than had previously been in the cartoons, which is something you would’ve had to read in the comics before that.

2012 turtles combined the mood and tone of the 2003 show’s darker attitude for the villains, while maintaining a balance with the more ridiculous, comedic side of the cartoons.

Personally, I haven’t seen Rise! yet, but it’s on my to-do list, same with Mutant Mayhem.

However, from what I’ve seen on this site and in a few fan fictions, you guys seem to appreciate rottmnt’s commitment to a more modern cartoon style and tone without sacrificing the inherent voice of the characters, along with the role changes they gave to the turtles.

Fans of Mutant Mayhem seem to like the more teenager-y characterization of the turtles, having them be more relatable to the current generation of fans.

Correct me if I’m wrong on these analyses, but my general point still stands: each of these cartoons and every new version of the turtles brings something different to the table we fans feast at. Each new show brings in a new generation of fans, and each new fan brings new ideas into the fandom. That’s why TMNT as a whole had been able to keep going and producing more media for forty years now.

So instead of hating on each new version, as we are so wont to do as staunch supporters of our own personal favorite iteration, maybe we should try to find the thing that makes these new turtles so likable! What can they bring to the table that we haven’t seen before? What makes a whole new generation of fans fall in love with these turtles?

I dunno, I just think the fandom is always way too harsh with new fans and new shows (myself included, I wasn’t too happy when Rise! came out, but I’m over it now). We end up torturing ourselves over something useless, when we could be nurturing this new generation of fans to love all the turtles the same as we do.

[jerreeeeeee]

Balance fic recs

some of my favorite balance fics. various ages, popularities, and lengths. i’ve been wanting to do a rec list for a while!

caramel by nevereverever

The first time Taako is left alone, it isn't pretty. But their lives are stuck in a loop and people come back and die again and again and he wonders if there will ever be a time when he doesn't have to fear being left alone.

2.7k, Taako & Lup Lup dies one cycle and then, years later, she dies again. But she always comes back. Hurt/comfort of the best kind.

Warmth by noxic

"It was a well-known fact among the residents of the Starblaster that Lup, Barry, and Taako slept in the same bed more often than not. It was one of those things that they just did without really talking about it."

2.1k, Barry & Lup & Taako The BLT fic of all time. Quality platonic adult sleepovers.

Taako the Matchmaker by @fantasysamsclub

In which Taako tries to set up his sister. Events take place during Stolen Century.

11.1k, Blupjeans & Taako Taako tries to set up blupjeans. Miscommunication ensues. Very sweet and funny.

red fishing line by @anistarrose

A routine performance of Sizzle it Up goes nightmarishly wrong, and at Lup’s bedside, Taako feels helpless. And when a red-robed guest appears before him, Taako doesn’t know how or what to feel at all.

3k, Barry & Lup & Taako Also the BLT fic of all time. Excellent subtle Taako characterization, and my favorite depiction of the familiarity-but-not of being voidfished. Warning for major character death.

Sunny-Side Up by @barry-j-blupjeans

And the world? The world loved Taako. For once in his gods-damned life, people loved him. They didn’t care about all the flaws, they didn’t care where he came from or who he was before. They loved his food and they loved him. No one would ever quite be at Taako’s level and that was something he thrived on. There would never be anyone who could measure up. Taako deserved this happiness. He worked for it. He wasted his fucking life away for it.

5.7k, Taako A wonderful character study, revolving around the role food plays in Taako's life. Fairly minor but impactful characters like Sazed and Taako's aunt are utilized in a very meaningful way. So well-written and warm. Warning for brief suicidal ideation.

On the Deck of the Starblaster by @papergardener

“What the… what are you all doing? We have work to do!” It’s a justified reaction, Lucretia thinks, to finding your entire crew literally lazing about on deck not an hour into this new cycle. “This one's on me,” Taako says. “It’s a new trend I like to call: taking a fucking break.” Cycle Nintey-Five. Everyone’s maybe not doing so good and could use a little warmth.

6.5k, Lucretia & Taako Near the end of the century, Lucretia is feeling rough. Taako pulls her out of her funk and initiates a much needed rest. Fantastic characterization, of Lucretia as a whole, and the loyal, warm side of Taako. Warning for mentions of a suicide attempt and suicidal ideation.

leaving, as an injustice by @anistarrose

When Mavis is eight, she starts finding her Dad asleep on the couch in the morning. Sometimes, he’s even all the way out on their tiny patio, with his head slumped onto a pillow atop the chess table, and bags beneath his eyes. In one of their following games, he tells her about tactical retreats.

4.7k, Mavis & Merle A study of Mavis and her relationship to Merle. Incredibly insightful into criminally underrated characters. Excellent Merle characterization.

Permission by vaguenotion

She’d been doing this on and off for the last hour, as if daring the men to catch up to them. Daring them to fight her. Every time seemed like a final stand. Here is where I will meet them, her shoulders said, hiked up around her ears. Here is where I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done. But then Taako would grab her hand, and she would turn and see the bruising on his throat, the blood drying on his brow, the tear in his shirt. And she would grip his hand in hers and together they would keep running.

12.6k, Taako & Lup My favorite depiction of the twins as children, both in character and realistic. Beautifully atmospheric, with so many small details that make the setting feel so real. Warning for assault and harm to children.

Come Hell or High Water by @nillial

“Taako,” Hurley asks, “where’s your magic umbrella?” Taako looks behind him. He had tossed the Umbrastaff in the path of a neighboring vehicle, which was beginning to catch up to them. He sees them now, far in the distance, and he sees his Umbrastaff, too, lying dangerously close to its wheels. As if on cue, he watches the tires crush it to pieces. “Whoops,” he says. - Lup is trapped. And then she isn’t. --- In which Taako breaks his umbrella during the Petals to the Metal race, unknowingly freeing Lup, who is almost immediately captured by Kravitz. After becoming a member of the Raven Queen's retinue with Kravitz as her trainer, she has two missions: 1) find her family, and 2) ruin Kravitz's afterlife. A story about enemies becoming friends and lost families finding their way back to one another.

197k (currently), Lup & Kravitz Incredible characterization. I love the way Lup is written. Hilarious shenanigans, sweet friendship-building, and terribly sad sometimes, because it dives deep into the reality of Lup existing in a world that's forgotten her.

Very cold water on a very hot day by @keplercryptids

Sometimes a family is a nerd who can't swim and the crunchy-haired watersport inventor who teaches him how. Surfer lingo required.

3.1k, Barry & Taako Deep dive into the beach year. Excellently in character, well-written dialogue, and a beautiful depiction of their growing friendship.

Children of Atlas by @papergardener

They’ve survived the apocalypse and now as far as they know, they’re the only ones left. Perhaps it was inevitable that they’d consider… repopulation. Lucretia writes up a weekly schedule to try and address that. Absolutely no one is happy with this.

76k (currently), IPRE crew The premise for this one is incredibly offputting, but I'm so glad I gave it a chance. The characterization and quality of writing is absolutely wonderful. I also love the attention to detail of the realistic difficulty of just surviving. Fantastically atmospheric, this fic dives deep into the uncertainty and fear of the first cycle, when the crew are all strangers, and the love that turns them into a family. Warning for extensive discussion of sexual assault.

Emissary Davenport by DragonWrites

A series of stories where Captain Davenport is secretly an emissary of Garl Glittergold, Gnomish god of pranks. And when you're a serious-minded captain on a mission to save all of reality, having a cheerful trickster god as your unexpected patron can get a little strange...

300k, Davenport A series of four works set in an AU where Davenport is an emissary to the leader of the gnomish pantheon. My absolute favorite depiction of Davenport, ever. The first three works are explorations of Davenport as a character and the relationships between people and gods in a DnD world. The last, Lost Gods, is the best fanfiction I've ever read. I can't express how good it is. The attention to detail among myriad plot threads, the building of themes, the characterization across just about every single character in Balance, all come together to create 223k words of a genuine masterpiece.

[lunarcrown]

Hi! I wanted to say I love this fic so much. I've read it several times over and I love seeing all your art for it as well. Thank you and aquaquadrant for bringing us this beautiful work! Tango is one of my fav Lifers and I adore Bravo and Atlas too. The characterizations are so fun. The angst is right up my alley and the soft moments balance it out beautifully. I loved reading the Hels bits and trying to figure out who each character was connected to on the overworld and the way you decided their differing traits was so interesting. The designs are also very cool. I adore Grian's jacket and glasses, Lizzie and Joel are gorgeous, Pearl is terrifyingly beautiful with all the bug traits, and Ren being a massive wolf is so fun! Tango being a blaze hybrid imprinted on my brain so hard I forgot it wasn't actually canon to his YT character's lore. It's true in my heart now. And Dbubs and Patho? Delicious. Good soup. I can't wait to see all the incredible stuff you guys put out in the future! I'm sure it'll all be great and I'll love every bit of it All that being said, I've had a bit of a day (/silly), so here's me projecting my period cramps onto Bravo <3 Have a lovely day/night!

Thank you SO MUCH FOR ALL THE KIND WORDS!!! I loooove that you’ve read it over and over, Aqua’s writing is SO CHOICE so I’m always happy when people read it more than once~~

And yesss she’s also the mastermind for all the heavy thinking about traits and details, her world building is BONKERS!! It honestly does the same thing to me where I sometimes can’t remember what was our au and what’s like actually happened in the VODs HAHA

And thanks for all the love of the designs!! It takes me a while to design anyone because I have to have the right spark and inspiration or it’ll feel too much like a chore?? So even though it took me a while (and there’s still more designs to do!!), it means a lot that you enjoy them so much!!

THE PERIOD CRAMP BEAM IS SO GOOD I looooove ittt YES GIVE BRAVO SOME AGONY!!!!!

Here’s a doodle back of him doing his favorite thing: placing blame on Tango!!!

[imbecominggayer]

How To Write Romantic Relationships [MASTERPOST]

How do you balance between having emotional and meaningful without also having sappy and cliche?

How do you organically incorperate romance to the plot without having too force it in?

Don't fret my romantically inexperienced little writer! I'm here to help!

A) Make It Meaningful

Look, you can put in all the effort and still have readers not give a f$ck about the romance.

Why is there romance? Is it to create conflict? Illustrate a character's flaws? Is it a fun dynamic?

Make characters individually interesting. Your readers should understand why a character has fallen in love or you will have a riot on your hand! Remember when your favorite character fell in love with the equivalent of cardboard? Not fun. Remember: FLAWS!

The characters should be physically attracted to each other. It's pretty awkward having a romance where one character is just supressing disgust for the other.

The characters should feel emotionally connected.

Unless this is the main focus of the relationship, the characters should share core, fundamental beliefs. They can express these beliefs in different ways but it's awkward trying to ship pacifist x murderer.

Characters either need to share the same level of critical thinking ability or be willing to fall in love with an idiot. By the way, you don't love idiot x smart, you love emotional x stoic, reckless x reserved, or emotionally intelligent x logical.

B) The Meet-Cute Or Meet-Hideous

Now you might be saying, "but my dynamic is "friends/enemies to lovers"! Not strangers to lovers"!

Cool. You still have to understand how they met initially whether that was 5 minutes ago, 5 months ago, or 5 years ago. How two or more characters meet can influence first impressions, expectations for the relationship, and what these characters know about each other.

If two people met with A thinking B is an angel and B thinking A is the most boring person alive, that's a meeting that's definitely going to influence each other's expectations for their relationships and for each other.

Then, if you are writing a couple who met before the beginnings of this story, you also need to investigate their "re-meeting". This re-meeting demonstrates how the relationship is between characters.

Is there tension? Are they breaking apart? Are they meeting after a period seperated?

For strangers to lovers, where characters meet in canon and not pre-canon, a writer needs to focus on the meeting.

What are their first impressions? What is the environment around them? How is everyone feeling? What's the initial dynamic?

Common Pitfalls:

Love at First Sight. Unless you have a story where you are switching between the love interest's perspective, then the only way the audience is going to fall in love with this character is through the protag. And while the protag can fall in love at the blink of an eye, the reader can't. If your audience isn't invested in the characters, that's a problem.

Boring Meeting. Unless the entire point of the meeting is that it's mundane, try to give the meeting significiance.

Lack Of Characterization. Writers often copy the standard rom-com meeting but it does a disservice to your characters. Distrusting characters won't fall in love immediately. Reserved characters won't leave their routine for anyone. Let the meeting be guided by the characters.

C) Romantic Chemistry

In order to make a couple romantically compatible, their traits need to complement each others.

Readers tend to implicitly see the potential two characters could have if they just got together. Having two characters with opposing but balancing characteristics could satisfy this thirst.

Readers understand that a character battling depression is more likely to thrive with someone who provides benefits in relation to the depression whether it's compassion, open-mindedness, or perceptiveness.

D) Conflict

All relationships need conflict! This type of conflict tends to be man vs self, man vs man, or man vs society

Characters are either struggling with their own characters flaws, the external threat of another character, or the interference of society.

Common Pitfalls:

Lack Of Themes. Let the themes you are working with inspire what type of conflict impact the relationship. Don't throw in a plot twist or an inorganic cliche.

Lack Of Grounding. Authors can be so focused on the spectacle of a grand fight that they can loose their characters and the grounded experience of an unstable relationship.

Lack Of Characterization. Whenever authors grab a random conflict, they risk a character acting outside of their parameters which make the move feel shoehorned in.

Lack Of Justification. Don't have the conflict show up out of nowhere! Write little moments where something seems off. Then when these little things pile up, it won't feel shocking but justified.

Lack Of Punishment. Characters shouldn't come out of these moments without questioning their entire existence. Have them re-evaluate their beliefs, expectations, and actions.

Lack Of Power. Give your love interest and your protagonist the chance to air out their grievances. Don't let your characters suffer in silence. Call these characters out on their bs.

E) Actions In Love

Everyone has their own ways of expressing love, so don’t assume that there’s only one right way to write about it. Some characters show their love through physical acts of intimacy such as holding hands and kissing. Some characters compliment. Others show it through grand romantic gestures. Others are more subtle.

Try to weave these little acts of sincerity throughout all of the scenes where your two lovebirds are in love.

[lumosatnight]

23 Fic Recs 2023!

This year has definitely been a year. I've devoured so many wonderful fics by so many amazing authors. Thank you @hprecfest for the super fun rec categories and for some fic inspiration! Here are 23 fics that I read and loved in 2023 (although some are quite a few years older) ordered by ship.

🌼 - fluff | 💔 - angst | 🔥 - smut

—

💫 DRARRY 💫

1. A post-canon fic

The Discreet Gentleman's Connection by pluto (gayrights420) [Drarry, E, 80.4k] 🌼🔥 I had the absolute pleasure of beta-ing for this fic, so when I say it is amazing, it truly is just that. Fast burn on the smut via Floo sex, slow burn on the in-person falling in love. Satisfying in all the best possible ways.

2. A fic that made me laugh

AITA for being "obsessed" with my childhood nemesis? by @rainstormradish [Drarry, M, 4.3k] 🌼📲 Draco on a reddit forum is hilarious just on its own, but the banter and formatting really bring this fic to life. Amazingly creative, had me in stitches!

3. A comfort fic

The Eighth Tale by @letteredlettered [Drarry, E, 12.0k] 💔⏳ An oldie but a goodie. I constantly find myself coming back to this fic and having my mind blown every single time. Time travel timey-wimey angst.

4. A fic with art

Dating Draco - A Visual Game by @itsphantasmagoria [Drarry, M, Video Game] 🌼🎮 This is a fic in video game form!! Amazing art and lovely story where YOU get to make the choices for Drarry's happily ever after.

5. A favorite series

The Journal of Dreadful Things by @lilbeanz [Drarry, G, 112k, WIP] 🌼📖 Hilarious, witty, AND COMES WITH ART!! Lilbeanz draws and writes a wonderfully delightful series starting from Draco's First Year. His characterization had me in hysterics. Book 4 is starting soon!

—

💫 COMMON SHIPS 💫

6. Fic with the hottest smut

Moonstruck by @prettyremus [Wolfstar, E, 3.8k] 🔥🐺 Found this gem while scrolling through the werewolf smut tag (don't judge me). I love the switch in dynamic with Sirius taming Remus's wolf through, ahem, rough sex.

7. An unreliable narrator fic

Sea of White by @dividawrites [Harrymort, E, 8.6k] 🔥🤍 Deliciously hot, creepy, and strangely sweet. Love their dynamic here, the unrestrained lust. Harrymort "die" and lose their memories, so, of course, then they bang.

8. A fic that made me cry

Far Apart, Far Away by @unmistakablyoatmeal [Hinny, minor Drarry, T, 1.6k] 💔💍 Infidelity angst has never been this good. I love the layers of emotion in this fic. Quick punchy sections that really pulled me in.

9. A Muggle(?) AU fic

Pleasant Hope by @ac1d6urn, @sinick [Snarry, E, 41.6k] 💔⛪️ Pastor Severus!! The angst, pining, and self-discovery in this fic is superb! I love the interwoven magic and detailed world-building of this little town.

—

💫 RARE PAIRS 💫

10. A fav amongst faves

The Last Trial of Peter Pettigrew by @sleepstxtic [Prongstail, M, 20.8k] 💔 🐀 Holy moly, this fic!!!! Is this my new favorite fic?? Possibly. The concept is brilliant, so creative and nuanced. The Peter character study using outsider perspectives is genius. Seamlessly balances canon and new scenes.

11. A pre-canon fic

Careless by @tax-onomic [Luther, E, 1.5k] 🔥🪞 Lucius/Arthur my beloved rare pair!! I am captain of the Luther ship, and Tax's fic hits all the right spots. The pining, the sniping, the prickly personalities with emotional vulnerability underneath! And all in the middle of a hot smut scene. Perfect.

12. A canon-compliant fic

Scottish by thepadfoots [Chedric, G, 749] 💔🌟 Lovely Cho character study focused around her Asian identity and the boy she loved.

13. A fic rated G (more like T though)

Lion-Hearted Girl by MinnieQuill (odainath) [Minmione, G, 4.5k] 💔🦁 I know the large age gap might scare some, but their relationship feels very organic in this fic. The setting is grim, but there is always hope in the darkness!

14. A fic rated T

You're So Vane by @patriceavril [Romelina, T, 6.8k] 🌼💄Romilda is so delightfully characterized, I was smiling through the entire fic. Angelina is the perfect foil (and love interest) to Romilda's attentions.

15. A rare pair fic (less than 2000 fics on AO3)

Snakeskin by @cntrl15 [Bellastoria, E, 3.7k] 🔥👠 Talk about a rare pair! Astoria/Bellatrix only has 2 tagged fics on AO3: this fic and the drabble I wrote based on it. But read this fic, and you'll see why I felt the need to write more in this universe.

16. A fest fic

Master of None by @nanneramma [Snormac, G, 5.5k] 🌼🧘 Severus is so wonderfully cranky, and Cormac is fine AF. The surprise pairing of 2023 that I never knew I needed and now I'm obsessed with!

17. An under-rated fic

Sun, Shadow, Shade by @naomijameston [Snuna, G, 700] 🌼☀️ Post-war fluff. Sunshine Luna is the perfect match for sullen Snape. A short and sweet fic for this underrated ship.

18. A canon-divergent fic

but somebody's gotta do it by nocturn [Pangulus, T, 920] 😄🧟‍♂️ This fic will make you say WTF but also huh, okay that totally works. The concept is WILD but Lyra executes it wonderfully. Pansy drags Regulus out of the inferi lake and they flirt a little while he gets de-corpsified lol.

—

💫 POLY SHIPS 💫

19. A dark fic

In his embrace by @loneamaryllis [Snarrymort, het!Snarry, E, 48k] ⚡️👀 Dark and dirty but so so good. A Voldemort Wins AU where fem!Harry is taken as prisoner. Snape's mindset as he tries to save her (and is forced to rape her) is so twisted and mesmerizing. Mind the tags!

20. A thought-provoking fic

Icarus by @thistlecatfics [Millvansy, M, 20.0k] 💔🍾 War trauma, addiction, codependency! This fic is messy with emotions but has a strong, beating heart underneath. I am in love with Parvati as she deals with Pansy's addiction and Millicent's denial — three beautiful, imperfect girls.

21. A holiday fic

A Time, Dark and Divine by @moonflower-rose [Dronarry, E, 17.0k] 🔥⛱ HOLY FREAKING FUCK!! The sexual tension in this fic is off the freaking charts. Drarry seducing Ron while on vacation in Portugal. Sign me the fuck up!

—

💫 GEN 💫

22. A favorite fic under 5k

The Scrunchie by @saintsenara [Lightning Era Girls, G, 4.5k] 💖👭 Such a lovely look into some of the female background characters, all following the path of a single scrunchie. Lisa, Padma, Parvati, Hannah, Sally-Anne.

23. A fic with an ending I can't stop thinking about

Through the Middlegame by @sandervansunshine [Astoria & Peter, T, 6.6k] 💔♜ Devastating, heart-wrenching, tragic. 10000% would recommend. Kylee has already heard me screaming in the servers about this fic. If I could get a fic tattooed straight onto my brain, this would be it.

—

💫 BONUS RECS! 💫

A podfic

Plenitude by @wilfriede, written by eldritcher [Amelmione, M, 14 min] 💔🥀 Amazing voices, amazing music, amazing ambience. Wilfriede really brings one of my fav Hermione/Amelia Bones fics to life in this podfic!

A comic

War Prize by @mrviran [Snegulus, Reggiemort, M, Comic, WIP] ☠️🐍 The panels are awe-inspiring. I am HOOKED on this comic. The murder and the TENSION. Ughhhhh so good. I am so invested in Severus's arc!!

A self-rec (completely self-indulgent)

For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight [Snarry, E, 7.1k] 🔥✝ My first time writing Snarry! Priest Kink, church sex, and blasphemous religious imagery. Priest Severus is oh-so-tempted by Teen Harry. So fun to write and even more fun to go back and read as a guilty pleasure.

—

⚡️ Want more fics to read? ⚡️

Try my rec tag: #lumosinthelibrary

Year in Reading, b-day oneshots, WLW Library

[brofightiscancelled]

list of fanfics i like

ichimatsu and todomatsu get white girl wasted. it's funny

totty climbs mt fuji by himself. really really nice character study fic

totty climbs other mountains with his brothers, followup to the last fic. the brother interactions are very funny and on point

denki mystery AU fic. the only one that exists, as far as i'm concerned. captures the stilted haunted vibe wonderfully. surprise cameo in the second chapter

suuji abt the spaces left between family gaps. i really like how jyushi's POV is written in this, it's a good balance of his silly goofiness and emotional intelligence. probably the only "jyushi deals w ichi attempting" fic ive liked

karamatsu's endurance test. excellently characterized. i like how it examines kara's Suffering without it feeling over the top or dramatic, the mundaneity of makes it sadder imo

osomatsu (high school) has a heart to heart with his dad while high on pain killers. i love how matsuzou is written in this one. i love family bonding

matsuyo watches her one-in-a-billion babies fight into the world. ohhhhh i love you matsuyoooo

97k word 46 chapter fanfic about karamatsu getting a gf and nothing bad happens to him. in breaking news, the super angsty and dramatic high stakes fan-favorite does in fact have the most ic, charming and hilarious narrative voice of all time

193k(??!!?) word fanfic abt karamatsu getting stuck in a time loop. again, the super angsty dramatic fan favorite does in fact have the most ic/charming/funny narrative voice. this one leans a Bit far into the drama for my personal tastes but is still excellent

high school matsus. ichi breaks his leg and jyushi pushes his wheelchair. most of the fic writers seem to have fallen off by the time the movie canonicized their HS personalities so i like every opportunity to see them interact

jyushimatsu's girlfriend meets all of his brothers. this one is just sweet and cute. i love you jyushimatsu's sad girlfriend

jyushi and ichi find a lost dog. this whole 2 by 2 series is quite good this one is just my fave

osomatsu and chibita pull back the curtain. now This is quality childhood friends content. character writing is great

jyushi post-letter fic. devastating. deserves special mention for the most fun jyushi character voice

^ this whole series is excellent. love reflecting on childhood moments. karamatsu having the best night of his life while his brothers are all having a fucked up and miserable one is so funny to me. i NEED to know how totty's interview went

[twopoppies]

Are the any new fics (within the last couple months) that are good? I’m in a reading drought and I feel like I’ve read every Larry fic there is :( I got so desperate I even thought about looking into f/m fics..

NOOOOO NOT THE HET FICS. DON’T DO IT. 😆

I think I’m just going to use your ask to post my year-end favorite fics. Hope you don’t mind.

It’s been a tough year for me, and I haven’t gotten to read a ton, but these are all excellent.

Secrets, Santa? By @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 19K) disaster gay Harry in all his bumbling, endearing glory still manages to make his incredibly hot boss (Louis) fall for him. This one has snappy dialogue, great internal monologue, and scorching smut. I’d expect nothing less from this author.

your lips in the low light by etherealbliss / @givesuethemoon (E, 21K) It’s been a long time since I read a Larry Uni AU, and this one checked all the boxes. This author managed to really capture the immaturity and obsessive emotions of university age lovers arguing and breaking up, and making each other jealous, and fucking and fighting some more, and ultimately making up. Harry is bratty and sensitive and Louis is dense and long-suffering and they’re perfect for each other.

Scorpions et Madragores by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter (E, 23K) Read the tags and author’s note on this one because there are some themes that could be triggering. This is a dark fic and Harry is a pretty creepy vampire, but the story is very well told and there’s a happy ending.

2 a.m. texts by everysingleday / @sun-lt (T, 30K) This was very sweet and very funny and had just enough sexiness (although I wouldn’t have minded more. LOL!) Link is to a download.

The Doppel Effect by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (T, 6K) the concept for this fic was so original and a really compelling read, I can’t help but hope the author gets inspired to continue this ‘verse.

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky (E, 227K) This one’s got all the tension and drama you’d expect of a World War II story—life and death high stakes, friends and lovers unexpectedly torn apart, battles and heroism, plus the added stakes of classism and homophobia—then add a slow burn, high risk, scorching love affair spanning years. If you want a story that’s complex and fantastically researched, plus lovers to root for, read it. It’s long. But I couldn’t put it down. When I finally did, I picked it right back up and read it twice more. It’s that good.

one conversation by fondleeds (NR, 1K) This really is just a couple of scenes, and the story is open-ended, but, if for no other reason, read it for the beautiful way the sentences flow. My notes on every fic of theirs begin with: “I wish I could write like this.”

Night Shift by banaanipoika (E, 9K) This was incredibly sexy and beautifully written. I loved that there was such a unique setting with so much descriptive language making me feel like I could smell and feel everything in that hospital room.

On The Pull by @homosociallyyours (E, 4K) Short, but really sexy and just the right amount of bittersweet and hopeful. Loved the characterizations and the smooth writing. So few people write canon Larry these days so this was a nice change of pace.

Devil in my brain, whispering my name by @lunarheslwt (E, 9K) i i thought this author struck a great balance between the dirtiness of a demon defiling an angel and the way the angel gave in to his desire to be defiled. Super sexy.

pull you closer (kiss me harder) by @sunshineandthemoonlight (E, 6K) This was absolutely beautiful — just the perfect amount of tension and wistfulness to make me tear up. But then it was sexy and full of hope at the end. I loved how Louis supported Harry and gave him exactly what he needed (and really, H gave Louis what he needed, too).

[utdrmv-confession-box]

Transcript: i think the fandom was genuinely better before 2020. or at least 2021. maybe i see nostalgia through rose-tinted glasses, but 2015-2019 was the best era of this fandom. people say cringe and free but there’s a difference between unknowing cringe and acknowledged cringe, and the former is just more genuine. more fun, more free. things were better, in my eyes. now there’s useless discourse (there was, of course, discourse then, but now people have wrapped morals into it. you’re not a bad person who wants to abuse people if your favorite character is canon nightmare sans, god), even worse fanon that people have dubbed as canon (dream is not an uwu baby, yes, but going in the entirely different direction and making him a mean smoker is just as fanon and inaccurate, you’re no better, so get off that pedestal), and just the bullying that comes with liking older interpretations.

blueberry is fine. uwu star sanses are fine. slendermansion bad sanses are fine. teddy bear horror is fine. any interpretation is fine. but there’s art left and right of people drawing characters punting those other interpretations whilst the creators themselves continue to make their own interpretations that are the same, if not worse, levels of inaccuracy and mischaracterization. it’s hypocrisy and i don’t doubt that in four or five years this era of the fandom will be mocked and a new, just as wrong interpretation will emerge. i don’t mind this, you can characterize anyone however you want. that’s what makes this fandom great. it’s just the fact that this is combined with the bullying of other interpretations that makes it hypocritical and me upset. not even to touch upon the new fanon of “sans would show no emotion of papyrus died”. in an attempt to move away from one side of the spectrum they went too far to the other, rather than settle upon the perfect balance.

in general i also grieve what will never come back. the style of older popular artists drawing sans, that line weight jakei and superyounma used that pulled the style together, the obsession when dream and nightmare became truly popular, the formation of the star sanses, the overuse of the word ‘senpai~’ when it came to crossmare, the comic dub movies on youtube, or how everyone obsessed over sans and made him overly edgy and emotional. the animation memes, the genuine sans fangirls, not the satire ones. ichika. the othertale animations. early underverse and the silly comics jakei made for it. the terrible wattpad fanfiction. amino. actually, we can leave out amino. i don’t miss amino.

it wasn’t all perfect. if i’m honest, it was a dumpster fire in a lot of ways. but it was my dumpster fire, and what once burned became nice and toasty. the fandom now is great, don’t get me wrong. i love how it’s turned out, i love how characters are no longer white anime boys and how people have begun to acknowledge how certain things are bad, rather than ignoring it. how underrated characters have been getting more attention.

but if i had to pick between the fandom now and the fandom then, i’d pick then in a heartbeat.

[nowimjustastranger]

What other things can you tell us about the Sombody to call my own au???

I am deeply fascinated by a Ford that goes around trying to bring Stanleys to other fates!!!!!

Also the way you write Fords for your aus is just 👌✨ DELICIOUSO ✨

Your fords and Stanley are interesting creatures that just tick off the right boxes for me!!

Dark-ish protective Ford? Stanley angst?

SIGN ME UP

Anyways your aus are some of my personal favorites!

And I constantly suffer brainrot rip

Hopefully you have a good timezone :D

Omg I'm so happy to hear that you like my AU's!!! I worry about characterization a lot, so it's a relief when my readers tell me that the boys are written well. All my writing (for any fandom) features two things: feral and dark. I usually try to take the character that would fit both those qualities best and apply it to them.

Ford 419"3 has met other versions of himself in the multiverse, but he usually keeps to himself because he either wants to knock some sense into them or strangle them to death if he does actually interact with them. Ford's mentality is very much 'you don't even know what you have' in reference to Stan because most Ford's still have their brother (and for good fucking reason) but are still holding a grudge.

The way I see it, the younger that Ford loses Stan, the more unstable Ford is as an adult. Basically, the Axolotl knew what it was doing when Ford and Stan were paired together across dimensions.

Ford was the planned child and, while Stan was unexpected, he's just as necessary. As we see in canon, Ford is the one with the capabilities to destroy the world (accidentally or otherwise), while Stan ended up saving the world. Ford may have started the fight with Bill, but Stan had finished it.

They balance each other out. Where Ford is all brains, Stan is all heart.

[nyarumie]

Brains to Brawn. (Chapter 3)

narumi gen x f!reader — 2.2k words, co-workers to lovers, slowburn, multiple parts, semi canon compliant, they're both in denial (later on).

STATUS: Ongoing. Chapter links: 1, 2, 3

Author's Note: Please send some feedback about the pacing and characterization! I unintentionally turned this into a slowburn series 😭

Cross-posted on ao3. — Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are also appreciated; Happy reading ♡ Ask box is open!

Feeling oddly good about yourself today, joyful hums are heard coming from you while brewing your favorite daily dose of iced coffee. You made your way to your work table, co-workers staring inquisitively at you—was it weird to have little skips on your steps as you prepare to work for the day?

To say that you were happy is an understatement. You were practically glowing.

"Ahem." one of your friends tried catching your attention.

"Hmm?"

"Did something happen after the test yesterday? You're awfully… flowery today." Your small friend group was surrounding you, waiting to hear you spill some juicy details.

"Oh!" you started. As if to show you were proud, you crossed your arms and held your head high. "I'm going to be a millionaire!" you declared.

A chorus of 'Huh?' was heard, your declaration earning the attention of a few of your co-workers.

"Scratch that, I'm going to be a billionaire!" you said, determination exuding off you.

Just as they were about to ask if you're in your right mind, a stack of papers hit your head.

You turned towards your 'attacker', glaring playfully at him. "Wha— That hurts! Was that necessary, Kurusu?!"

He sighed, "Go back to your stations. And you—What were you thinking?" he sounded exasperated.

You tilted your head, confused.

He sat beside you and whispered, "What happened to rejecting the proposal?"

"Oh. Didn't you want me to accept it? I have my own good reason for it too, you know?" He raised his eyebrow at you, curious to hear your reason.

"... Salary Adjustments?"

And he smacked you with the papers once more.

"Hitting me again?! You said the same thing last night! How many people in the defense force are offered such an amount? It's too good to miss out on that!" you argued.

Waving his hand in dismissal, he handed you important documents for you to fill out. "I told you to think it over for three days, not overnight. Just answer these forms within the day and return it to me."

One of these forms is the application for new recruits. Staring blankly at it, you totally forgot it'll be held only 2 days from now… and you have no idea how to prepare for it! It's not like you've held a gun before, nor fought any Kaiju? Hell, you even bawl your eyes out at the sight of a roach and it flies off before you can even hit it! Oh, you're definitely gonna die now.

Kurusu snorted beside you, snapping you out from your thoughts. "It's too late to regret your decision now. I should've clarified it's more than just the salary adjustments I told you about." Is he a mind reader?

"It's not too late if I don't sign these forms, right…?" you asked, a mix of nervousness and hope evident in your tone.

"Good plan. But you shouldn't have addressed Captain Shinomiya in your email. He'll be expecting you."

You groaned, your head thumping down on your table.

"I'm gonna die… Don't wanna die… I'm gonna die… Don't wanna…"

You earned highly concerned looks from your co-workers, hearing you mumble repeatedly and mood significantly plummeting.

Feeling bad, Kurusu offered you a two-day paid leave for your preparation, but you're sure he's just pulling some strings to make it happen.

"No thanks. I'll work as normally as I can. I hope." You opened your work-issued laptop, timidly starting one of your few remaining normal work days.

Morning session passed by like a breeze. You were too cooped up in your work, one of your friends had to drag you all the way to the Cafeteria to get some lunch. Instead of lining up for a perfectly balanced meal, you went to grab an instant cup noodle in their snack station and filled it with hot water. Your realization from this morning took away your appetite, so it seems. You weren't in the mood to mingle with them either.

Bidding farewell to your friends, you made your way to the long-range training room observatory, deciding to watch fledgling recruits; you might pick up a few pieces of advice from the senior officers training them too. Not that you'd ask them directly, though. You're basically just eavesdropping, albeit obviously.

Upon entering the room, you nod in acknowledgement at your co-workers stationed there. One of them pointed at your cup noodles, then made an 'X' with their arms. You simply returned a mindless shrug, knowing you can chug this thing down within 5 minutes.

You made yourself comfortable on a seat, enjoying the view and your 'meal'. Seems like the shooting training has yet to start, you're just right in time then. From below, Platoon Leader Hasegawa can be seen going through final checks and reminders as the recruits gather behind him, bearing their standard long-range weapon.

"Listen up! You all have been on this line of job for a year now. We'll be going back to the basics from your very first training—one of them is reaction time. According to the memo, punishment is due to those who fail to at least show two times the better result than the record they had from a year ago. Are we all clear?"

A chorused 'Yes, sir!' resounded from the recruits, them obviously thinking it would be a piece of cake. What Hasegawa didn't mention, however, is that the shooting targets pop out much faster and they're moving in random directions at the same time. And the number of targets is significantly multiplied.

The first few officers who volunteered were found sulking at the very back of the pack. Not only did they fail to beat their amateur records, they weren't even able to find the locations of the other targets! As a result of this, the remaining officers were visibly anxious and discouraged, subtly pushing each other to go first.

"What are they? High Schoolers?" you mumbled. Though, you find yourself pitying them. A year of service in the Defense Force and the level of training is upped by this much—it does seem cruel. But that's the harsh reality. If they can't deal with these wooden shooting targets, what more if it's a real Kaiju jumping out to attack them at the same time from different directions?

You slurp down the rest of your meal, giving your now undivided attention to the training. You noted that the wooden targets have a specific echoing sound upon popping up due to the strain held by the metal holding them, and their volume determines which area they're located in. This observation allowed you to guess their number, treating it like some kind of minigame.

"Commencing in 3…"

You close your eyes as you hear the countdown, trying to focus your senses on your hearing. If you recognize the distinct sound and volume resounding from the dummies, you might be able to tell just how many of them there are.

"2…"

Suddenly, you feel stupid for doing this. You haven't even learned anything from watching them. How could you know better than they do? They're the ones on the field.

"1… begin."

'Ah… three dummies for Ground A this time?' you thought.

"25 seconds—Ground A clear!"

"4 on B and 3 on C," you mumbled. The echoes from Ground B and C aren't as loud as A's, so you expected Ground D's sound to be even softer.

"4 minutes and 12 seconds—Ground B and C clear! Officer now heading towards Ground D."

"5 on D… No, it's 6. Sixteen targets overall?"

"18 seconds on Ground D—all clear! Total record: 4 minutes and 55 seconds, 2 minutes slower than the previous record."

Before you can even hear your co-worker announce the total targets cleared, you abruptly open your eyes at the sound of someone talking to you, catching you by surprise. A pair of pink-reddish hues meet your own eyes.

"Bravo. How'd you guess that?"

Leaning right at your face is Platoon Leader Narumi. He's too close to your face, too close for your comfort! Is he shameless?! How long has he been observing you and your stupidly mindless action?

You put some distance from him, subtly pushing your chair backwards.

"Just some quick observations, I guess…?" you answered briefly, unsure whether he'd like to hear you ramble.

"Tell me more."

How do you even start this? He might not follow your line of thought. But here goes nothing. "Um, the dummies pop out with a distinct sound. I've heard what one pop sounds like in each area, so imagination is key to assuming how loud it'd sound if multiple of them appear at the same time." you paused, checking to see if he's still listening.

He, in fact, seems absorbed in your explanation. With newfound confidence, you continued, "As for which area, the farther they are, the softer they sound. I believe no further explanation is required here. Bottomline is, hearing one pop in each Ground is the key."

Still intently observing you, you spoke up again. "Is there something wrong?"

He pointed at the recruits below, now being lectured by Hasegawa.

"These dimwits who already had an experience of one year got outsmarted by you. That's what's wrong."

He stood up straight and continued, "Not only do they fail to showcase their improvement, their senses and heads weren't working at all. Makes you wonder how they're still alive after all those attacks."

'Well, you probably soloed most of the Kaiju…' you thought.

"You're making it seem like a big deal that I guessed the numbers. I work in the Operations, isn't it normal for us to be more observant than most people?"

You hear a co-worker chuckle. "Ah, well, the thing is, you're the most detail-oriented out of all of us. Remarkably good hearing too. That's why you're our designated eavesdropper—or gossiper, rather." they joked.

Narumi snickered. "Why're you here anyways? Desperate for advice?" he taunted, wiggling his eyebrows. "My word comes with a price, just saying."

You stood up and crossed your arms, wanting to appear grumpy. "Whatever price it is, I'm not paying it. I don't need any help at all."

"The price is helping me with my training. Right now. What do you say?"

…Were you hearing things? Help with his training? So many officers would beg and die to be offered this opportunity.

"I have work to do."

"Nahh, I'll have Kurusu deal with that." He grabbed your wrist without warning and led you away, earning worried stares from the people stationed behind.

"...Pray tell, how is this exactly training?"

"Mhm? I'm showing you my shooting skills, and you get to assist me with that. And— Hey, watch out! They're attacking you from the back!" he screamed, his focus still on the huge TV display in front of you.

That's right. The training he offered you is playing a 2-player shooting game. You seemed like you needed advice, and luckily (for him), he needed a player 2 to get the reward locked behind co-op. Fair trade, he'd say. It's not like you have any other choice again, so you quickly pushed away the disbelief you initially felt when he led you to his game room office. Two separate blankets were draped over your heads, sitting cross-legged with a pillow to support your arms.

You hear him sigh out in relief as you both finish the current level, as if he was holding his breath for the entire fight. "6:43 PM. We'll finish at exactly 7 for your dinner."

Oh, so he wasn't totally inconsiderate. You've been cooped up here for the entire afternoon, hoping that Kurusu wasn't hosting a search party for you. It was also kinda your fault for incorporating his gaming habits into his training schedule recommendations.

You played wordlessly, following along his instructions. You got the grasp of the game after an hour of playing, but leave it to the expert to take charge. He wasn't lying when he said you'd finish at exactly 7, the huge golden "Congratulations" banner displayed on the screen.

"Meh. That was too fast."

Looking at him incredulously, you said, "You call that fast? My ass hurts from sitting here for the entire afternoon!"

"But you stayed anyway, though?"

Ah, well… that was true. He never said you couldn't leave. But somehow, you felt like you can't.

"Can I now, then? I'm hungry." Standing up and going straight to his door, you didn't fail to notice how serious his expression has gotten.

"How do you feel now? What are you thinking of?" he asked.

"I feel… hungry? I can't think of anything to think of." Not knowing why he asked those out of the blue, but it was a harmless question to begin with.

He turned his back to you, moving to turn off his gaming console. "Good. Remember that."

"What?"

"Don't think of anything. Just do what you can in the moment. You'll know once you're there. That's my piece of advice."

Oh. He's right—you totally forgot about the recruitment. But it didn't stress you out as it did before. Did he also feel this way when he took the tests? Probably not. But you're sure he does whatever he can at all times.

A soft smile adorned your face, thinking that he wasn't such an ass after all. "Thank you, Platoon Leader Narumi. I'll make sure to remember it. I'll be on my way now, then."

Once he heard the door close, he lightly scratched his nape. Truth be told, he only did this to slightly repay you for looking over him as his personal manager. Still, this was so unlike him. Maybe he was the one feeling restless?

He'll definitely watch you on your examination.

[crime-scene-psychic]

I honestly think that the Nolan Batman trilogy was the best and worst thing to happen to the Batman franchise, because on one hand, it was the first live-action instance of trying to make Batman more gritty and serious (because while the Keaton, Kilmer, Clooney movies took the story much more seriously than the 60s television show, they were still goofy at times, which is why I honestly think they're the best rendition of Batman, because they were able to balance silliness with seriousness, which is what Batman is all about, but that's obviously an entirely different thesis) which then allowed for more people to take comic book movies serious, consequently leading to the rise of the DCEU and, obviously, the MCU (we would not have the MCU today and the actual good movies that came out of it without Nolan's trilogy, there's simply no argument there).

However, the Nolan trilogy also unfortunately made "dark, gritty Batman" the norm, meaning that once anyone tries to actually have some fun with Batman, they immediately get shit on by comic book dude bros. It also created the most annoying characterization of the Joker that everyone has been trying to replicate since and no one will be able to replicate, because they simply do not understand the character (I honest to God think the closest live-action actor who has ever made a Joker character work besider Heath Ledger was Cameron Monaghan in the Gotham television show, and he wasn't even really Joker??? but at least he didn't make it everyone else's problem and was a good mix of goofy and psychotic, not just psychotic) and will never be Heath Ledger (but they don't stop trying much to my forever annoyment).

And while I can recognize the cultural and significant impact on the comic and film community that Nolan's trilogy had, it is still by far my least favorite adaptation because of how serious it takes itself (and of course, the racism. The racism is actually the bigger one for me. Fuck Christopher Nolan for that. Ra's al Ghul is NOT a white man just because you want a plot twist, and you CANNOT just erase Bane being mixed race because you fucking FEEL LIKE IT because him being mixed race is extremely relevant to his origin). Batman has had serious moments in the comics, don't get me wrong, and I know things must evolve and change over time and that I cannot expect an 80 year old character to not be further developed throughout the decades, but it almost feels as if Nolan and Goyer (the writer) read a Sparks Notes version of the history of Batman, cracked their knuckles, and said "yeah, I think I got it."

Spoiler alert: they did not get it.

When I watch the Nolan trilogy (which I haven't in quite some time and I really don't want to, even to prove a point to people on the Internet) I notice how uninspired it feels, story-wise. While the action and cinematography is excellent, the story is lacking for me, and when you're telling a story like Batman, that has decades of content, you cannot just forgo storytelling for cool special effects.

I'd much rather watch a Batman adaptation that has the shittiest effects known to man with a writer who whole-heartily cares for the characters they're writing and has taken time to research. And that's honestly one of the biggest problems the comic book film industry is having now, both DC and Marvel. They're not hiring people who actually care about these characters to write them and they're focusing much more at appealing to everyone they can instead of who the movies should be made for: fans.

You're gonna have such a harder time convincing my mom, a woman who only cares about Wonder Woman, to watch the new Captain America film than you would someone who has read the Sam Wilson Cap comic run. And while this entire issue stems from the fact that the film industry is just that, an industry, and has become less about filmmakers making art and more-so how much money investors and producers can get out of ticket sales, it is still infuriating to see franchises you care deeply about be ruined by guys just there to cash their paychecks and be done with it.

And really, the film industry as we know it needs to be fucking demolished from the inside out, but that will never happen and now we're a bit off-topic. So, back to Batman.

I think another issue I have with newer live-action Batman adaptations is that they choose to forgo a VERY IMPORTANT character when it comes to Batman/Bruce Wayne's evolution as a character and story line.

Robin.

Since whatever the fuck the casting of Chris O'Donnell in 1995 was (why was he, like, a grown man?), people have been afraid to touch a live-action Dick Grayson with a six-foot pole (besides Titans, which I'm gonna get to in a sec). Which is ridiculous, because he is, like I said, an insanely important character when it comes to showing the growth Bruce Wayne goes through.

Bruce Wayne becomes Batman because he is so angry about his parent's deaths and the corruption of Gotham that he doesn't know what else to do. All the money in the world cannot change things for the better, his own father tried and died for his troubles, and he is left with no other option. Bruce Wayne works during the day to fight corruption via charity and his company, Batman works during the night and is able to do what Bruce Wayne can't (beating the shit out of people, mainly). The two are separate sides of the same coin.

And despite this seeming like a good arrangement, it's pretty obvious in most adaptations (at least they get THAT right) that beating the shit out of people in back alleys is not a good replacement for therapy. You're able to see the toll being Batman has on Bruce. He quickly becomes more occupied with being a vigilante than being himself. Bruce needs something to break through this internal struggle and help him balance both lives.

And so a boy named Dick Grayson comes along.

Dick's so important (and so are the other Robins, of course, but Dick being the first means I have to talk about him a bit more) because he forced Bruce to get his shit together. Here's a boy who's about the same age Bruce was when his parents died, who also just saw his parents killed in front of him, and is so full of rage he has no idea what to do. Sounds familiar...

Bruce is able to help himself by helping Dick. He gives him an outlet to vent his anger and frustrations while also looking out for him in the best way he can. While there are many issues with how Robin comes to be in various comic runs (and if this was real life it would be fucking ridiculous) Dick becoming Robin is extremely important. If he hadn't been taken in by Bruce Wayne, if he'd been allowed to let that anger continue to bubble up inside of him, he probably would have killed Tony Zucco and that would have been enough to set Dick down a terrible path he might not recover from.

The same goes for Bruce. If he were to set out and kill the person who shot his parents, he wouldn't be a hero anymore because that single event would shatter the entire point of Batman, which is that he is not meant to decide who lives and dies. If he were, how would he be any different than all the villains in Gotham that he fights as Batman? How would he be better than the corrupt businessman and politicians that he has to battle as Bruce Wayne? He wouldn't.

Batman needs Robin and Robin needs Batman, because they are yin and yang. Light within darkness, darkness within light. You cannot separate these characters and still tell an accurate story, it's impossible. I think that's a huge issue Nolan's movies have, on top of many others. You cannot accurately present to me a Batman story if there is no Robin, just as you couldn't give me a Robin story without Batman.

Every Robin is so important to how Bruce Wayne as a character is developed, and disregarding this as a creator is not only disrespectful to the character, it misses the entire point. I refuse to take your adaptation of Batman seriously if you can't figure out how important Robin is. He isn't just some kid sidekick, he isn't an optional side character, he is what makes Batman human. You cannot have gritty, Neo-noir Batman and forgo Robin just because you see him as the sidekick in tights. When Batman was silly and took itself less seriously, sure, there wasn't a lot to Robin nor Batman's troubling pasts. But now that you want to deep dive into Bruce Wayne's psyche and pick apart what makes him the way he is you wanna throw in the towel and erase the part that humanizes him? Fuck. You.

You can't make a complex Bruce Wayne and take away parts that help audiences understand his complexities, that's fucking STUPID!

Titans, for all its faults and problems, will always have my gratitude as it had the fucking balls to give, without a doubt, the best and most rounded live-action adaptation of Dick Grayson we have ever seen. Titans introduces Dick at a very important and rocky time in his character arch: him leaving Bruce.

If you're not in the know, there's a falling out between Bruce and Dick that's been written a couple different ways over the years, but all comes down to Dick being "fired" from being Robin and leaving Gotham. This is a bit of a newer story line in comparison to how long the character of Dick Grayson has been around, and eventually leads to Dick becoming independent from Bruce, signalling his evolution from "side kick" to his own hero, Nightwing. However, there's issues with Dick having to give up the Robin mantel, because it's something that is whole-heartily Dick Grayson. Robin wasn't something Bruce Wayne came up with, it was the nickname his parents gave to him. Even the colors are his, those were the colors of the Flying Graysons' uniforms. Robin is much more than just a vigilante alter-ego to Dick, it is the last link he has to his past and his parents. So when this is taken away from him and given to another, this causes a huge internal struggle for Dick, as he has to deal with the anger he now has for Bruce, a man he originally looked up to and idolized. This is Dick seeing how wrong it was for Bruce to do some of the things he did to Dick, despite at the time those choices being what both needed.

The way Titans is able to portray this extremely delicate time in Dick's story line in a way that not only makes sense for his character, but also allows for growth is really admirable. Like I said, the show isn't perfect by any means (can I PLEASE get a Romani actor to play Dick PLEASE) but it's the first time I feel that the character is wholeheartedly taken serious in a live-action setting. You can tell the writers have a better idea about how the characters should interact in a live-action setting and while some choices are questionable to me, the heart is there.

Nolan's movies in comparison feel soulless and devoid of all creativity and love. He does not care about these characters, no matter how much he tries to make you think that, and he never will. Christopher Nolan, you will NEVER convince me that you give two shits about Bruce Wayne. And if you, the director, can't bother to care, why should the audience? Why should I care about your adaptation if you can't even be bothered to put an ounce of individuality into it?

With Matt Reeves' Batman films underway, things are getting worse again. For a while, we only had to deal with the shitty Joker adaptations that tried to replicate Ledger's Joker, but with the Reeves Batman movies, the film bros are making themselves known again. I remember when the new design for the Riddler dropped and I said it was shit and people on Twitter and YouTube got SO PISSY at me and told me I just don't understand Batman and that I'm childish for enjoying the designs for Gotham Riddler/ Batman Forever Riddler and whatever and that I'm stupid, which none of those things are true, I hate to be confident in anything, but I think I know more about Batman than you do, Twitter troll.

The suit sucked and the character sucked. They just created a new character but gave him the Riddler's name. That's NOT the Riddler. That's honestly closer to Hush than Riddler, so just... do that? But of course, less people know about Hush than Riddler, and you're not trying to make a film for fans, you're trying to make money, so why would you ever be so silly as to do that! I'm not gonna talk to much about the new Riddler, just because it's super old news and it's not the point I was trying to make here, it's just something that continues to piss me off when it comes to gritty recreations of characters, because Riddler really never was supposed to be some Zodiac Killer wannabe, he's supposed to be a guy who leaves you riddles and makes you solve them and he's supposed to be a little silly about it. And I'm not saying you can't do a more gritty Riddler, because Arkham Knights did it super well imo! Just don't reinvent the wheel! Don't just make a new character and call him by another's name, that's a disservice to the character themselves and their creators.

This is a hard topic, because you have people who get the point of these characters (people who have actually read a comic before and paid attention to the story) but you also have insufferable film/comic bros who worship the ground Nolan and Reeves walks upon and who don't even take time to explore the rest of the Batfamily comics (his gang of vigilante children show up in the stand-alone Batman comics, though, so I don't know how they're missing this, unless they have the reading comprehension of a goldfish, which they probably do tbh). It's why I think a lot of these weirdos don't like Gotham Knights or Wayne Family Adventures, because they hate the thought of there being any semblance of fun in the Batman franchise. Not everything needs to be doom and gloom! Let Dick Grayson be bisexual and let Bruce Wayne have a PTA rival! You can have your cake and eat it too!

I know this seems like a silly sentiment coming from a person who just wrote an entire essay on this, but maybe don't take Batman so seriously? I don't mean, of course, that you can't care about these characters, I'm actually saying the opposite! I care very deeply for these characters, so much that I obviously spat all this out. I just think some people need to fucking chill when it comes to realistically portraying Batman. There's nothing wrong with taking a more serious approach to the characters and I have no problem modernizing them, but you can't just have action hero Batman, you have to have the human behind the mask too. And if you can't balance that, then I'm sorry, but you shouldn't be making Batman adaptations, because you obviously don't understand what the character is about.

I'm nervous to see where Reeves will go with the character, and only time will tell. I've heard rumors he plans to introduce Robin, I've heard rumors he doesn't. Either way, it's obviously out of my hands and I'll have opinions either way, but I really hope he has a better understanding of the history of the franchise than Nolan. While I appreciate, again, what Nolan did for revolutionizing not only the Batman franchise but the comic movie industry as well, I can still find faults in how he went about things. I truly don't believe we can have a worthy adaptation of Batman live action without Robin and without embracing the silliness of Batman's villains and I really hope producers, writers, and directors realize that soon.

Sorry if you read all that...