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lessi-lover · 6 months ago

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don't break me when i let you in II barcelona femení x teen!reader

this is the longest i've ever written and i'm so proud thank you all for sending ideas to help me keep this draft alive x

warnings: mention of suicide, implied self harm, self hate, spanish federation.

don't break me when i let you in II barcelona femení x teen!reader

"you don't have to be strong all the time, you know?" it was an ignorant affair to believe, something only somebody with a slight sliver of saved up hope might trust. not you. not the broken shell of a person that can only believe you are the only thing keeping yourself together.

the glue to a cracked vase. in which the vase was you and you were slowly breaking under pressure that had been following you for years. if you hadn't hit rock bottom a couple months ago, you were certainly scraping the edge with your bare teeth now.

you had been one of their strongest forwards available to select from. a top forward in your league, it would be silly for them not to call you up with the titles next to your name at such a young age. it was inevitable that you would be called up for the world cup squad selection and there was nothing you could have done about it even if you tried.

you were just so helpless weren't you?

there was nobody to tell that you didn't want to travel to australia to play for a team that had ripped you inside out before you were even first national tournament debut, nobody that would understand how badly you wanted to represent your country and how willing you were to put your body on the line for it even for a single minute in spanish colours.

is that why you stayed quiet?

you stared towards yourself in the mirror, wondering if maybe your eyes had ever truly been as light as they used to tell you. that the light in your eyes you had been promised was always there had just seemingly disappeared. the eyes that they still talk about that seem so foreign to you now as you look back at yourself through shattered glass. wondering if maybe it was all just a lie.

maybe it was all just a lie.

a black and white faceless lie that everything you would go through for a ruthless tournament was for the better of you. or worse. a binary promise that everything would be okay, that all the suffering would end in good for you. or not.

but you look back through the same eyes that you were meant to be able to trust, the eyes that let everything just happen without looking back, and you still don't understand how you could be so easily deceived, taken apart from top to bottom like a neglected toy.

a useless, discardable toy. was it all a lie?

maybe the people who were meant to protect you and care for you were actually abusing you to wits' ends. maybe it wasn't that you needed the further training they made you endure after your previous training, but that you were so young and fresh and all too easy to manipulate.

maybe it was those you trusted and who sent you away with the assurance that you would be the next spanish legacy that isolated you from the world and treated you as a vessel to secure gold for spain.

but you were to blind and powerless to seek help.

you had been the silent one. the one too shattered to even bear the trial that came with the aftermath of the events following your world cup win. you knew the federation would come after you. you were the one who wanted so badly to sign the document that your teammates had but you couldn't bring yourself to look at the people who had broken you from the inside out for even just a second to speak your mind.

you were just a shell of a once strong force now weren't you?

you knew they would try and rip away each and every title you had ever worked for and your playing rights along with it. you were a world cup, champions league, copa de la reina, nations league and liga f winner. but maybe you were just a vulnerable, small cog in a relentless system that wouldn't stop until you broke down and they would throw you away like the others.

the fear of losing everything you had worked for since you were a small child paralyzed you for months. the mere thought of speaking out, of seeking help, seemed as impossible as how you got into the situation in the first place.

the federation had an iron grip on your life, they could control you whether you were defenseless to it or not and any caught wind of saying something felt like signing your own demise.

it would end you surely? don't you think that maybe speaking out for help would become the end of your career? one that had barely started as you were only freshly twenty years old? staying quiet was the better option. you had thought you could escape unscathed, but your reality was far from it.

nobody had your best interest and those who did didn't make it clear enough until you finally broke down from the denied pressure. it felt like a void sometimes. as if you were screaming and nobody could hear you, or maybe nobody cared?

no they care. didn't they?

did they care when you were forced out of bed early in the morning to complete extra practice before the day even started? did they care when you were just a young teenager illegally moving up into the senior divisions of international football to cover for seniors who had denied their call up's and was made to exhaust your body more than you ever should? did they care when the private meetings you were obligated to attend turned into time to yell at you, to break you down as if you hadn't given your entire life to the federation.

but then again, if not football what else did you have to live for?

you asked yourself these questions over and over again. each time just hoping that the harsh reminder of your situation would lessen. it never did. it never would. it would be stuck with you no matter how hard you tried to block it out, no matter how hard you tried to ignore who and what made you shrink a million times over.

the fear, the abuse, the meal plans, the body exhaustion, the denied freedom, the stolen happiness, a cruel reminder of the bottomless hole you had found yourself falling deeper and deeper and there was nothing you could do to get out.

you were truly and utterly stuck.

the office is cold, its white walls a stark contrast to the warmth in the hallway you had been waiting in for the past half hour. the thick carpet muffles your footsteps as you walk toward the large desk in the center of the room, the air you're walking into a harsh wind of tension that couldn't be cut with a blade if you tried.

you swallow hard, your throat dry despite the countless bottles of water you’ve consumed throughout the day. but your hydration doesn't matter now, whatever it said to you in the next twenty minutes does.

the glare of the desk lamp catches your eye, reflecting the same harsh light that seems to spotlight you everywhere, waiting for you to make your next mistake. you glance at the stern faces of the officials seated behind the desk, their expressions unreadable as they read through what looks like your performance reports.

“please, take a seat,” the head of the federation says, his voice clipped as he places his hand predatorily on your lower back and guides you to sit down. you lower yourself into the chair, the thin material of your club shorts rubbing uncomfortably against the velvet furniture.

the head official adjusts his collar, peering over them at you with a sharp look almost as though you had done something to personally offend him. but those aren't anything close to his next words.

“you’ve been doing exceptionally well, tesoro.” he begins, but his tone is far from genuine and you feel that something else is coming. “your performance has been impressive, especially considering your age and the closeness of the tournament.”

you nod, though his praise feels hollow, almost as if you're falling into a set trap made just for you. your heart races and you grip your hands on the chair. you want to speak up, to voice your concerns about the overwhelming training schedules and the strain it’s putting on your body, but the words get lost in your throat.

“we’ve decided to integrate you into the senior squad for the upcoming world cup. it’s a great opportunity, but it also means you’ll need to do far more than what you're currently putting in.”

your chest tightens. you’ve been waiting for this for a long time, but when he finally tells you it feels overwhelming and you don't understand why a moment you have been prepping for years of your life makes you feel uneasy. you push it off as nerves.

the world cup is a chance to showcase your skills on a global stage, this is your moment, don't stare it in the face and back down.

another official at the side of the room glances at you with a fleeting look of concern before turning back to his notes. he seems to recognize the strain you’re currently feeling, but his words are lost just like yours as the head continues to talk to you.

“your development is crucial to our success,” the head official says, his voice cutting through your thoughts. “we expect you to handle this responsibility with the utmost professionalism. this is an opportunity for you to prove yourself and secure your place on the national team.”

"and who knows, i have spots emptied by débiles that need filling. this is your shot don't blow it. tesoro." there is something about the way he talks to you and speaks about you over your head that makes you shiver right down to your core.

you nod again, feeling the weight of their words drop into the palm of your hand and the room seems to close in on you as they continue discussing your role to each other and the intense training you will need to undergo in the upcoming months.

the meeting ends with a firm handshake and a curt nod from yourself and as you leave the office, the clear expectations settle heavily on your shoulders, the fear of failing and the pressure to succeed feeling almost insurmountable. yourself unaware of the danger you have just put yourself in.

you're not even sure when it all started. you can't pinpoint when the abuse started, if you could even call it that, or if it was there the whole time and you normalised it for yourself because that was the better option instead of speaking out in your mind.

it was enough of the lack of players available that caused them to attempt to burn you out as much as they could. it was enough for the federation to take one look at you and decide that the weight of the world relied on your shoulder whether you liked it or not.

that was your purpose. it was your job to lead the team to victory without a second mistake. without a setback, through injury, responsible for the good and the bad, amidst an internal battle with yourself that was dragging you down, and most importantly with a smile on your face even if you were shattered from the inside.

a smile on your face. nobody would notice would they?

“siéntate, tesoro,” he commands, his tone carrying an edge of impatience and you feel yourself move quickly into his office at his voice. you sink into the chair, its firm surface a harsh contrast to how had felt in the chair only mere months ago.

“you’re here because you’ve been selected for the world cup squad,” he begins, his voice cold and he digs his hand into the desk as he leans close to you. “but let’s be clear, tesoro. being selected was only the first challenge. we expect more from you.”

you nod, but the weight of his words feel heavy and you can't help but notice that the official who had given you the sorry look was missing from his spot behind the desk.

“we’ve noticed that you’re not quite fitting the ideal player we had in mind,” he continues, and you shake off any thoughts of the past official when your eyes meet his. “you’re not fast enough, not agile enough. you’re not meeting the physical standards we expect from you.”

his words sting, each critique like a hard blow to your self-esteem that wasn't really there in the first place. “your performance has been adequate,” he says, “but adequate isn’t enough. we need you to be exceptional and above all competition. and right now, you’re neither of those.”

he leans forward, his breath fanning over you as you look down at the floor in fear. “your weight is one concern of our team, but it’s not just about being heavier or lighter. it’s about how you present yourself. we need you to be leaner, faster and even more dynamic. you’re not the perfect image we want for the team right now.”

the room seems to close in around you as he continues. “we’ve seen some players who didn’t meet our expectations and they were dropped. you need to understand that if you don’t shape up, you will be next to not enter through doors again. comprendido?"

he gestures to a pile of strawn documents on his desk and you look up from the concrete fall at the harsh snap of his fingers in your face.

“we have reports here, tesoro, that detail everything we need from you. and it’s not just about physical performance. it’s about how you look, how you’re perceived by the public. you need to be more endearing, more marketable. if you can’t fulfill that role, then we'll find another.”

his gaze is relentless and he talks to you like you're a faceless object that he can discard at his will, throw away when he feels you're not complying with his demands. he can take you off this squad the moment you defend yourself.

“you’re not here just to play; you’re here to be the face of the team. the face of spain. and right now, you’re not cutting it for us. we need you to be a star, not just another player in this tournament. and if you’re not willing to meet those expectations, then you’re in the wrong place i'm afraid.”

“now, we’re going to do something,” he continued, his voice carrying a coldness that made your stomach curl inwards as you sat fearfully in your chair. “i need you to repeat after me. ‘i am not good enough. i need to be better."

you hesitate, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak as you blinked harshly to try and to stop the tears that threatened to fall. “i am not good enough. i need to be better,” you say quietly, looking down shamefully at the floor like a small child being scolded by their parent.

“louder.” he demands, his voice cutting through the room like a whip and you try not to flinch at the volume of his words. “i need to hear you say it with conviction. you are lying through your teeth pequeña. don't lie to me, i hate liars."

“again,” he insists. “and this time, say it as if you truly believe it. i am not good enough. i need to be better." you force yourself to repeat the phrase, the words make you feel as if you're stripping away everything you ever built yourself to believe. every title, every trophy, every medal, every goal. erased.

“i am not good enough. i need to be better,” you say louder, the humiliation of his cruel exercise making your stomach lurch and you struggled to keep yourself together.

“very good,” the official says, his tone carrying a note of being pleased and you hated that you loved the feeling of his approval. “you should understand that just because you’re going to australia doesn’t mean you get to enjoy it. you’re there for work, not to have fun.”

his manipulation is chilling to the bone, designed to strip away any sense of accomplishment you had ever felt. “you’re not meant to enjoy australia, it’s not a vacation. you’re there to prove yourself, not to sightsee. you need to focus solely on the tournament, on meeting the expectations we’ve set for you. or we won't hesitate to send you home.”

“this is a serious commitment. if you let yourself get distracted, you’re failing in your duty. you’re expected to perform at your peak, and that means putting aside any thoughts of leisure or enjoyment. this isn’t about you enjoying yourself; it’s about you meeting the standards we've set for you.”

“if you allow yourself to get comfortable or take things lightly,” he warns, “you’re showing weakness. and weakness is unacceptable. you need to stay sharp, stay focused, and remember why you’re here.”

his manipulation is subtle yet even then you could tell that he knew you wouldn't fight back, he had designed it to make you feel guilty for even considering enjoying the tournament.

“this is a test of your worth,” he says. “if you can’t handle the pressure and keep your focus, you’re not fit for the team. we need you performing to the highest standards that we expect from everybody else. including you. if you can’t handle the pressure, then you’re not worthy of the position. we expect you to rise to the challenge without complaint.”

you were far too gone to allow somebody else to take your spot. guilty and far too gone to let yourself slip through the cracks you had been told others had fallen through. somebody wouldn't be able to deal with the kind of pain you had been trained to believe as normal.

somebody else definitely wasn't as strong as the fake front you had built up to deal with it all, or at least that's what you told yourself, it made you feel better even if you didn't believe it.

you felt like nothing.

was it the pressure? was it the memories? was it the unhealable bruises that littered you from head to toe? or was it the feeling that you gave your whole existence to people who threw you away like you were just dirt on the bottom of a shoe?

you were numb.

you couldn't even remember the last time you had felt truly happy, truly yourself. the facade of a charming female footballer you put on for the world was crumbling and you were scared that people would finally see the pain that lied underneath.

the mirror showed a person trapped between who they once were and the brokenness of who they had become, drowning in a sea of your own helplessness.

you wondered if there was any way back to the person you used to be, or if that person was gone forever, if she had fallen through but ignored by who you had been built to be. this is what rock bottom feels like. rock bottom is not knowing who you are anymore, not recognising any of the memories of the person you were before.

it's the lostness of knowing that you can't find yourself again, seeing your old self in the distance but not knowing how to reach it with the strength you so clearly do not have.

it's the painful acknowledgement that the once vibrant and full of life person who was here before has been replaced by a shadow and you're struggling to fight the dark.

had the darkness swallowed you yet?

your phone rings loudly in your ear. it's more harsh this time than the previous sounds that had escaped the device. you know who's calling you because there wasn't exactly anybody in your life that would reach out to you so religiously and determindly.

you bit down on your lip. a similar memory of you lying on the floor answering the man who had made you the emotionless person that couldn't bear to even think about the game you used to live for.

you miss the person you were. that man gutted her from the inside.

the sound pierces into the thick silence of the room, demanding you to answer as it broke through the barrier of quiet you had built up. the screen of your phone lights up and you let your eyes flicker down towards it, your phone displaying the name of the person you dreaded to see you how you are now.

a feeling you couldn't quite place as dread or relief washed over you as your phone vibrated against the cold floor. dark purple bruises forming on your legs and arms from the time you had spent laying on the bathroom floor.

you slowly reach for your phone, drops of blood dripping off your skin and onto the glass as tears make their way down your face from the dark circles that countless nights of lost sleep had created for you.

your fingers tremble as you swipe to answer the call as if they are carrying the burden you've been feeling for months, and the screen lights up with the caller's name again. you can't turn back now, you've answered the one person you would hate to see you like this.

you contemplate hanging up the phone, staying silent on your end of the call as if magically the situation would disappear and you could leave like you so badly wanted to.

you sound nothing like the person you were a year ago.

"hola amorcito. are you there?" the voice on the other end of the line breaks through your thoughts, the term of endearment so familiar yet painful almost making you burst into another set of tears but you stay strong for her because that's what he would have wanted.

"ale?" you reply, your voice steady but still shaking as you lift your phone to your ear to hear better. "i'm here." there's a soft sigh on alexia's side of the phone and you can almost picture her sitting with her girlfriend on the couch, the older woman had tried to call you throughout the week but you hadn't answered and she'd been waiting for you to call her back.

"you don't have to be strong all the time, you know?"

#alexia putellas #woso #woso community #alexia putellas x reader #barca femeni x reader #woso angst #woso imagine #woso fic #barca women #barca femeni

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demodraws0606 · 27 days ago

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Jax's fear of being trapped and what that might imply about his past/future

Hello 2 days ago i've developped a chronic case of Brainrotting about Jax, tragic I know.

I'm kinda basing this slightly of what Gooseworx have said in QnAs though I will not rely on it because I think purely relying on a creator's words and not the media isn't really satisfying.

The main thing that stood out to me in this episode with Jax was that he seems to fear punishement.

He seems really freaked out when Gangle proposed the idea of Cain punishing him...

And then he immediatly goes to Zooble to be like "lol you don't believe Cain actually could punish us right ?" and while he's proven right at the end of the episode, the fact that he immediatly tries to seek reassurance that he wouldn't get punished says a lot. In fact in his expressions he looks both sides while saying it almost like he seems...unsure/anxious (idk the right word).

Also when he's brought into the employee training scene. He's weirdly...afraid and shaken by it ?? (not showing the screenshot cos everyone remembers that scene).

Which like, I understand that was terrifying but it was a strangely strong reaction to something that...light ? I mean he wasn't brainwashed or anything. I might be stretching it but all of it, including the scene's purpose makes me wonder if it brought Jax bad memories of...something.

After that scene happens, he completely acts normal and stops trying to be a dick completely.

Now this isn't a convo about weither that's Jax's true self and his jerk self is a persona. People are trying way too hard to either try to make him a one dimensional asshole or secretly a good guy which like he's neither he's a bastard with layers. But that's not what this is about so ANYWAYS.

All of this made me wonder what was Jax's main Thing, more so his theme or the thing that makes him tick.

We know with Gangle it's her issue with masking (her dreams, how she feels, etc...), Ragatha being a people pleaser, Zooble's body dysmorphia, King's memories and how they link with the loss of his wife and Pomni's desire for companionship.

For Jax we actually don't really know other than...he's a dick and he's using it to cope which like....duh ?

But with this episode and also a little thing that I got from researching QnAs (because i'm normal and chill like that) made me realise what could Jax's Thing.

A Fear of Consequences and being Trapped

Now the main thing that drove this thought was me finding out Gooseworx assigning a song to Jax which is this one.

youtube

Don't fence me in, huh....

That line meaning a desire to not be restricted and not losing their freedom.

This makes me think this is probably what Jax's character is at least partially about, or more so...his biggest fear. Being restricted, reprimended or trapped.

I think in part that fear could be related to his past, which I'm gonna throw my cards here, my own personal theory is that he was stuck in juvenile detention for misbehaving as a kid. That experience traumatising him enough that he was probably similar to the Jax we've seen at the end of episode 4, just Tired.

Now does it Necessarely have to be a juvenile detention center, honestly no ? But it's the thing that makes the most sense in my head.

Either way this also explains a lot of things about his behavior in the circus.

He's now secluded in a space with absolutely 0 Consequences, the one person who can dish it out is an AI who is probably programmed to never harm humans (directly at least). He's even proven right at the end of episode 4.

I think what led to Jax's shit behavior was this realisation that this is pretty much now his Safe Heaven. In real life he can't just be who he wants to be, there's potential consequences that he's afraid of.

Now I know I'm gonna hear like "oh so you just think Jax is an asshole by nature", I don't think he is (i don't think he's ever been a nice person his life but like there's a difference here), I genuinely think he's not more so being himself rather that it's just that he's overcompensating for the lack of freedom that he's felt his entire life.

In a way it's similar to how people act on the internet.

Imagine that you were a misbehaving kid and you were reprimended HARSHLY for it, to the point where you're not really fixed per say but you're stuck being terrified of even being slightly flawed.

But now here he is, in a place where death doesn't matter, the harm he does doesn't matter and the one person who can actually hurt him just gives him weird shenanigans that give him opportunities to lash out.

However, there's a tiny little problem...

This fantasy cannot last forever forever and I'm not talking about them getting out because as far as they know it's out of the cards for them.

It's very much clear that the circus with the arrival of Pomni is becoming more tight knit and less divided, creating a more solid friendship group with the help of Pomni being an actual normal nice human person (Zooble is nice too but they're more jaded and too depressed to deal with most of everything, and Ragatha is a whole baggage).

It's becoming increasingly clear in the episodes themselves as well that, Jax can't just be an asshole anymore. Every episode since episode 1 has led to him being reprimended or him not being given what he wants. The group is becoming closer and they're sick of his bullshit.

He also probably doesn't like being alone and hated. We see him seeming sad at the talk of Kofmo's funeral before having to go back to being angry and dismissive in his facial expression.

Maybe he really did want to go to Kofmo's funeral but like would anyone actually believe he would be genuine, after being an asshole for so long would it really be worth for Jax to just break it all right there.

But it's clear he's also not really enjoying being alone.

Jax in a way is basically burrying a hole for himself. Being an asshole was his perfect dream after probably living a life of boredom and repression but now that this consequenceless existence has finally revealed itself to just be a mirage, he's now unable to access the things he really needs.

Actual friendship.

It's clear that the Digital Circus has a point of companionship being extremely important, in fact when we get mentions of Kofmo's abstracting we get also mentions about how no one really founds his jokes funny. Kinger mentioning how making someone feel alone and unwanted is the worst thing you could do to someone. Gangle is saved by Pomni and Zooble's presence.

However there's no one at fault for Jax's isolation, he only has himself to blame.

Ive got more but i'm tired so hope you guys enjoyed it.

#digital circus #jax #tadc jax #tadc #tadc analysis #the amazing digital circus #tadc episode 4 #i'm sleepy so if there are any mistakes you see #no you don't #Youtube

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deadsetobsessions · 11 months ago

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What’s in a cape, but the hopes and dreams of the one who bears it?

What’s in a cape, but shelter and warmth for those that receive its protection?

What’s in a hero suit, but a person that’s determined to die in it?

——

Long before Danny Phantom died in his hazmat suit, Bruce Wayne donned his cowl to dive between Gotham and the bullets with faces engraved on them. His cape began to signify fear, for those that harmed Gotham knowingly. But for the rest, it became a sign of protection, of promised vengeance against the crime committed.

And for a select few, the cape was a shelter during cold and rainy patrols. For Tim Drake, the third Robin, it was a warmth he’d never experience past those moments.

When Danny Fenton became Danny Phantom, he’d had wanted to have a cape like the crusader.

Danny wasn’t sure if he wanted to shelter or be sheltered.

But eventually, as things escalated and Danny found himself with less time for normal, personal things, that wish shuddered to an ember. After all, Danny had learned that he doesn’t get the luxury of protection. Not anymore. Which meant he had to be the one doing the protecting. A thousand miles away, as Danny came to terms with it on a clear Amity night, Robin was huddled beneath Batman’s cape to shelter from the pelting rain that came often with Gotham’s gloom.

When Danny got pulled along, invisible and attached to Robin’s side as the vigilante got thrown into a prison, he witnessed Robin talk to his evil older Batman self.

He’s visible again before he knew it, startling the two versions of Robins. Ice slammed into the Robin that became Batman as memories rung through Danny’s head. Where Robin was, stood himself. Where the Evil Robin Batman laid on the floor, covered in glowing ice, was Dan.

Danny died, and became a hero. He just had the unfortunate luck to live to see himself become the villain.

He would never allow Robin to go through it alone, not when Danny had his family and friends to fall back on. Robin, in this cage, ripped away from his team and in the midst of an argument with Batman, was painfully so.

“I’m Phantom.” Danny introduced himself. “Looked like you were in a bit of a spot. I’m sorry for butting in, if you wanted to take care of him yourself.”

“Robin.” Robin was wary. That’s okay. “How are you here?”

“That one’s on you, actually.” Danny glanced around. “Let’s get out of here before edgy future you wakes up. The ice won’t melt, and it’ll be hard to break, but I honestly don’t want to stick around for him to wake up.”

“Can you move him?” Robin eyed their cell contemplatively.

“Sure.”

——

“That seemed personal, earlier.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Had the displeasure of meeting an alternate evil version of myself that lost everyone I loved. Kind of hit a sore spot there.”

“…right.”

“No worries, you’re good. My friends and family promised to stay away from explosive sauce.”

“That’s good. So… where do you live?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Danny somersaulted in space next to Robin’s jerryrigged space ship. “Anyways, we’re friends now, so I’ll make sure you don’t live to see yourself become a villain.”

“See, that sounded like a threat.”

“It’s not! I don’t kill! And besides, if you were dead, you’d probably be a ghost, and you’d kick my ass for killing you!”

“Are you implying you’re dead?”

“Not an implication. I’m dead. Kind of. Half. I’m still breathing even if I kind of don’t need to. So, where are your friends?”

Danny will be damned before he let his new friends die in their suits, even if they make the job incredibly hard for him. After all, there’s only room for one dead hero on the team, and that’s him.

#dc x dp crossover #young justice #Tim Drake #I made myself sad #danny phantom #bruce wayne #danny fenton #nasty burger and their explosive sauce #new business idea: jokerized fries and the explosive sauce #I’m poking fun at joker #and Jason #kind of

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defire · 16 days ago

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As an abuse survivor, you are just fetishizing child abuse. Plain and simple. Call it a coping mechanism or a power take-back all you want, but it's just an excuse to write porn about child abuse. I pity people like you, truly, I do. I can only pray that you eventually see a therapist about your internalized pedo behavior.

Cw: RANCID ask ⬆️

I'm so glad you brought this up because I don't like to speak for people like you--I'd rather combat these opinions directly.

Since you're praying, I'll feel free to make biblical allusions. (Tw)

First, the word "fetish". My opinion: I don't find fetishes or porn too helpful for processing trauma--it's more like exposure therapy. At some point you do need to actually grieve and process what happened. I don't judge those who do that (you're not hurting anybody♥️), but that's not what Survivor Fiction is for.

When you're judging whether something is bad or good, you can use the "tree by its fruits" concept. Basically, if a tree produces good fruit, it's a good tree. If it produces bad fruit, it's a diseased/bad tree.

So let's look at what Survivor Fiction does for survivors specifically.

It brings healing. I (a new author!) have already received five testimonies that have said how much my writing helped them move through some of their trauma and see things in a different, calmer way.

Survivor Fiction brings peace. A surprising amount of the community--90.5% in a poll involving 1,543 voters--use whump stories to go to sleep at night. (Many trauma survivors have difficulty sleeping from flashbacks. Fiction along the same lines can offer an appropriate sense of distance from the fear.)

It helps disabled people. It appears that a strong majority of our community is autistic. Part of the diagnosis is emotional dysregulation. We need to be walked through how to do things in great detail. Survivor Fiction often walks the reader through the process of trauma, reaction, ptsd, and recovery.

It spreads awareness. Survivor fiction is often more accurate to real-life abusive situations instead of glossing it over--in other words, LYING--about what goes on. This can bring a 3rd party perspective to a current victim too, giving them the understanding that they are being abused and need to escape if possible.

For a more thorough explanation of why fiction about survivors is good and necessary, see this post.

Okay, so would "bad fruit" look like? Do you see any of the following from our community? ↙️

Doing these things in real life

Being generally hurtful of others

Hurting children in real life

Harming emotions by pushing unwanted content to people who would be triggered by it? (Quite the opposite, we tend to post exhaustive content warnings before the content.)

Something else that's actually wrong and not just a thought crime?

And here's the fruit of your words, which I'm sure we all heard the jist of many times before:

You encourage covering up evil. Trying to hide fiction that more accurately describes pain, abuse, and PTSD means hiding the truth. Stifling the exposure of just how evil it is to abuse someone like this. The righteous walk in the light, but the wicked hide their deeds in the darkness.

Your words are shaming. Shame causes pain to fester and act out in harmful ways, such as repeating abuse cycles, self-harm, and dangerous overreactions. Christian ideology here--shame is what caused Adam and Eve to hide from God.

You are lying. You implied that we harm people in real life without any reason to think so. And also implied that we want to be in the aggressor's position. Generally speaking we identify most with the victim.

Referencing Christianity here, if you're christian--Your words condemn the Bible. The bible is full of stories much darker than most of what is written here. You'll read about rape, and the cannibalism of one's own children in Lamentations, among other things.

You're hurting yourself. You will be judged with the measure you judge others with. This is because if you judge others harshly for their thoughts, you'll instinctively judge yourself just as harshly. You end up hurting yourself and others over something that wasn't even doing any harm in the first place.

Causing confusion. What you said was illogical. If it's fiction where the damage occurs, we should be blaming the fictional aggressor--not the writer reporting it. If it's reality where the damage occurs, we should be blaming real criminals--not the journalist. The truth is that writing about survivors isn't generally harmful.

In short, you're creating a lot of problems and not helping. Did this ask come from a loving place?

This answer I'm giving, does.

#bible #tw religious themes #rancid ask #religious ocd #bullying #harassment #survivor fiction #whump meta #abuse awareness #ptsd awareness #autism awareness #whump community #praying #disability awareness #complex ptsd #shaming

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 9 months ago

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Also, I would like to add that Malleus’s blatant disregard for the autonomy of others and fits of rage is DELIBERATE on his end. Being one of the top five mages in the entire world, I am sure that he KNOWS there is a large disparity between his power/social and the rest of the peers/subordinates etc. His sheer and utter confidence in his abilities to get what he wants and general disregard for others isn’t only an indicator of his awareness about this disparity, but is also a reflection of the abuses of his power AND social status as a whole.

In light of his age, imagine the amount of times he has repeated these mistakes despite others advice and criticisms against his choices. Only Ace has been able to overcome others general reverence and fear towards Malleus when it came to calling him out. He is not an innocent person who is ignorant about the ways of humanity verses faes, and is certainly not the innocent character the fandom (especially those who are infatuated by him) think he is.

[Referencing this post!]

***Standard disclaimer: In sharing my thoughts, I do not mean to disparage Malleus fans. Furthermore, me disliking him should not detract from your own enjoyment of the character. If you do not feel comfortable reading about this topic (ie critique of Malleus’s character), then I encourage you to scroll on and to not engage with this post.***

My thoughts below the cut!

I do feel that, to some degree, the disregard for others and inappropriate fits of rage come from blatant ignorance (since Malleus did have a very isolated and sheltered upbringing). However, it's also hard for me to believe that in his 178 years of living that he was NOT told countless times by those around him (mostly Lilia and his grandmother, Maleficia) to wield his power and social status more tactfully than how he has. Did he take none of those lessons to heart??? What about the 2-3 years he spent living among the non-fae at NRC? Nothing from then too?? Regarding self-awareness of his strength and social status, Malleus has made it clear on more than one occasion that he stands above others. Right from his first appearance in the main story (in book 2), it's implied he's well aware of his position--so much so that he deliberately hides his identity from Yuu. He also cannot propose to Eliza in Ghost Marriage because he is the crown prince of a nation. Time and time again, Malleus's status is mentioned and it plays into his importance as the sole heir to Briar Valley. He must also know he is powerful, given that he is one of the top 5 strongest mages in the world and can perform incredible feats (like reassembling a stage and walking through Vil's poisonous miasma in book 5) like they're nothing. His grandmother and Lilia tell him the Draconias are powerful and shouldn’t use their magic to harm, but to help those they rule over. Yet he seems to have surprisingly few qualms when turning these powers against people who are only at a fraction of his power (Rook, his dorm mates, everyone in the Scalding Sands trip group, Ortho, etc.) or have no magic at all (remember when he attacked those civilians in Terror is Trending and the other Diasomnia students had to restrain him?). Malleus may be emotional in these moments, but the fact remains that he's making the deliberate, intentional choice to wield his magic in this way. He has the ability to hold himself back (as we see him refrain from fighting Rook in Malleus's PE Uniform vignette, only because he knows Rook is baiting him), but the vast majority of the time he fails to do this. For someone who is acutely aware of his power, you'd think he would... I don't know, keep a better leash on it? And what about his identity? So Malleus is concerned about Sebek insulting Leona (the prince of another country) but he ISN'T concerned about how his own fits of anger poorly reflect on himself, who is the CROWN PRINCE of a country??? Please make that make sense... Why is Malleus so selective 💀

I'm actually quite shocked at how little Malleus's pride and arrogance is pointed out; it's usually Leona who gets those labels even though Malleus is also just as arrogant, prideful, and confident in his own powers. Most of the time, I feel like I see Malleus being called "innocent". Maybe his negative traits on display get overlooked because TWST tries so hard to present Malleus to us as someone we are supposed to like (especially with how often they use his overpoweredness or loneliness is used as a punchline for jokes). Our interactions with Malleus are also so few and so short, particularly early in the main story, that fans project their own ideas about what he's like onto him and that forms a certain “image” of him that may not be the same as how he actually is. Him being lonely makes it easy for fans to perceive him as desperate for company and even easier for fans insert themselves as his “special” friend or S/O to fill the void.

It's... quite ironic, really? Malleus says in Riddle's Suitor Suit vignettes that he is familiar with the concept of "noblesse oblige", which is the implied duty of the privileged and nobility to act gracefully towards those less privileged. Yet... he is sometimes overstepping "fae playfulness" or "teenage childishness/immaturity" and continuously creating situations which put people around him in danger (all of Endless Halloween Night, not holding back his attacks against the Magicam Monsters, all the times he let his temper get out of control, book 7 OB, etc.) When defending the extremes he took in book 7 by citing his status and his UM, Malleus has this to say, which is very telling of his lucidity: "Monitoring? Meddling? Heh, how silly. It's a king's duty to govern, is it not? I'm watching over you. To ensure no nightmares befall you in the fairy tales you now reside in... To ensure you have happy dreams that last forever!" It's implied that Malleus's grandma has told him since childhood that their line has powerful magic to protect their people's smiles--and here he is, overextending those words to people that aren't even his subjects, and twisting the meaning to justify his own brutal rule.

What I noticed is... Malleus is often so oriented on seeing the situation from his POV that he fails to consider those from any entity aside from himself. In Endless Halloween Night, he feels sorry for the ghosts who showed up late and were left out of the festivities because he can relate to them, so therefore he wants to make sure they are included. In book 7, Malleus fears his loved ones leaving and projects this fear onto everyone else so he feels right in being the one coming in to be their "hero" and grant them happy endings they never asked for. In his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, Malleus frames the circumstances as, "I wouldn't be mad if you did the same thing to me" instead of listening to his peers' complaints. He centers problems around himself (which admittedly is very frustrating to me), and this is how Malleus tries to understand and navigate the world. This gives me the impression that he has a very particular way of thinking and it's perhaps difficult for him to understand others, even with extensive pointers.

I truly believe Malleus is ignorant about humans and fae. That much matches up with what we know of his history. What I do NOT get is why he continues to remain ignorant when 1) he has spent a few years exposed to non-fae and their ways; even if this pales in comparison to the 175ish other years of his life, he should have some new basis for appropriate social interactions with other races, and 2) major adult figures in his life are telling him he should consider others' perspectives and try to learn more about that which he is unfamiliar with. Malleus has so many opportunities to expand his horizons and get to know new people, but he seems to sit around and keep waiting for others take the initiative for him. But he could initiate too, so why doesn't he???? (He has shown he is capable of it, as he approaches Deuce to fix his virtual pet and chatting with Idia about the same pet in the main story; if not by himself, then Lilia can easily assist or invite him into activities such as the Silk City trip.) Even if Malleus fails to socialize in a way that's considered appropriate, at least that's something he can learn from and correct for next time... But why doesn’t he????????? If he did, it would sure help out with his inability to empathize with his peers and could even curb his temper (which would be seen as socially inappropriate). So why exactly does he seem to know so little and make so little effort to try and rectify this???? Why does he keep postulating that his word is above everyone else’s and then get upset when people don’t like him for this very alienating attitude? Aaaaah, it's a sad cycle to witness him devolve into again and again... 😭

P. S. Bless Ace for being the one character who still held it against Malleus for the fucked up “prank” he pulled in Endless Halloween Night (and then convincing everyone the misunderstanding was their faults for “attacking the ghosts first”).

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plusvanity · 2 months ago

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idk if u've spoken abt this, but one of the things that annoy me the most is that he says "euronymous was playing this character, acting tough, but in reality he was a wimp" then he says "i killed him because i was afraid for my life" like which one is it? was he a wimp, or was he actually dangerous?

Everyone in the early Black Metal scene was playing a character, Øystein included. This is the very reason why I'm not surprised at all that Varg wanted to be a part of their group because narcissists love role-playing. They role-play all the time because they don't have a sense of self, so they create this false ego (character) in their heads that they display to the world. This is just what Vikernes did and still does today. The part in which he calls out Øystein for playing 'Euronymous' is straight-up hypocrisy, but this is self implied knowledge.

Now, I don't believe Øystein was a dangerous individual. He was competitive, had a bit of an ego, and he was assertive, but he wasn't violent. He may have talked bad about Varg behind his back, but it was mutual. They both exaggerated to seem cooler and tougher for their peers.

Some might argue that 'well, he went to burn a church', yes, he did, but it was peer pressure. He went with other two. He didn't go on his own and meticulously did all the work, came back the next day and bragged about it. This is the difference between peer pressure and real antisocial (dangerous) behavior.

There are many reasons why Varg still insists to this day that Øystein was dangerous even if he most probably wasn't.

First of all, it is quite difficult to attack a self-defense argument in court because it permits a 'reasonable' force to be used when two fight for their lives.

Many criminals use the self-defense strategy even if it's painfully obvious that they attacked first because it buys them time. Time in which they can come up with more reasons why they shouldn't be persecuted as harshly as they should, time in which they aren't in prison yet.

Even in Varg's case, the court struggled to find a reason why he did what he did, and their conclusion was 'a struggle for power'. His self-defense strategy was nullified in the process because they court found him guilty for planned murder (he drove 5-6 hours to Oslo, had a knife, etc, etc). His lawyer also must've failed to justify the three elements of self-defense: Imminent Threat (Varg was in no imminent threat, he provoked the situation by coming to Oslo), Reasonable Fear of Harm (when someone pulls out a knife, it's over), Proportionate Response (Øystein had no equalizer, so to speak).

One thing that people seem to forget, or aren't aware enough is that Varg never ever denied that he killed Øystein.

Now that he's out, he still maintains the narrative that he acted on self-defense because it would be absolutely dumb to just admit that you intentionally murdered someone when you are still watched and still taken into consideration by police with what you publicly say. Everything that you say can be used against you, don't believe that Varg is free to own his murder, I mean he is theoretically, but it's idiotic to do so when you know you can open up a can of worms again.

Besides legal sanctions and consequences, Varg calls Øystein dangerous to play the victim. This is for his own selfish, egocentric narrative in which he expects, not even mercy, but admiration because he 'stood up for himself' and all that jazz.

He will always contratict himself based on how he feels that day. One day, he will say Øystein was truly dangerous. The next day, he will say Øystein was a wimp. He detests Øystein, that's clear. And he will use anything he can to deteriorate his adversary's image both online and in his head.

You can't believe Varg with anything he says, believe Øystein based on what he did and how he was like when he was alive. The guy wasn't a threat, he was a victim.

#ask response #varg vikernes #øystein aarseth

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cherubmm · 3 months ago

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🍎☪⇢ ˗ˏˋ INJURIES ࿐ྂ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ━━━━FEATURING: PASSIVE.nightmare

⊱.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ━━━━CONTENT WARNING: Yandere in general. Soft yandere. Unhealthy attachment. Obsessive Thoughts. Delusional mindset. Abandonment issue implied. Self-harm(?). Violence mention. Gashlight hinted. Vague whether the relationship is platonic or romantic (up to the reader's interpretation). Not-proofread. OOC. Reader was referred to as a 'prince' once

⊱.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ━━━━PROMPT BY : cherbmm

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Deciding to use my own prompt instead from now on since i just realize that majority of my writing doesn't even align with the actual prompt.

Nightmare sat silently beneath the towering Tree of Feelings, his body aching from head to toe. The sharp pain in his ankle told him it might be damaged. His dark, torn clothes clung to him, barely holding together after another beating he'd endured. Scars lined his form from head to toe, and fractured bones peeked through disheveled fabric from rough handling. His gaze remained low, a dull, pained expression clouding his usual soft demeanor.

Then came your voice, sharp but full of concern, breaking through his haze. "Seriously, what's gotten into you?" you muttered, frowning as you knelt beside him, your hands working deftly to patch him up.

A rough bandaid was pressed against his cheekbone, causing nightmare to flinch as a small whimper escaping his lips. Your touch, although gentle compared to what he’d endured earlier, still sent little jolts of pain through his body. You were frustrated, he could tell, and you weren’t holding back.

"You’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep this up, nightmare," you grumbled, continuing to work. Your fingers were slightly rough as you cleaned a particularly nasty gash on his arm. "If I find out who did this—" you trailed off, your voice dropping to a near growl, "I swear I’ll make them eat more than a dirt."

The threats were half-hearted, yet there was an unmistakable edge to them that made him feel... safe, in a strange way. "I... I just—" he began, his meek voice barely rising above the rustling leaves, but you cut him off with another sharp retort.

As your hands continued their work, wrapping bandages around his arms with deliberate motions, Nightmare found himself staring off into the distance, His thoughts began to drift as you continued to aid on his injuries.

'Why do I keep doing this?' he thought bitterly, heart heavy with guilt and self-loathing. Those villagers… always hated him, fear him and don't want to do anything with him.

but you're different, you... stayed.

Nightmare clenched his fists. He hated making you worry, but at the same time, the thought of involving you terrified him. If those villagers ever found out you were close to him… stars, he couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt. They would do far worse to you, and that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

...So, he let them beat him. Let them take out their anger on him, use him as their punching bag. All so he could come back to you and see the way your brows furrowed in concern. All so you would patch him up, focus on him more.

A selfish part of him enjoyed it—not the pain directly—, enjoyed how much attention you gave him when he returned bruised and broken. He felt bad about it, but it wasn’t enough to make him stop. You were the only good thing in his life, and he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize how quiet he had become until a particularly rough tug on his arm made him flinch back into reality. You were wrapping a strip of silk tightly around his forearm to cover the broken bone beneath.

"Too many injuries," you grumbled, your eyes narrowing in frustration. "Damnit, nightmare— why are you not saying anything to me..?!"

The latter flinched once more, staying silent than necessary as his gaze stayed fixed on your face. You were frowning, lips twisted in frustration, your brows furrowed in anger. You looked absolutely furious, like you were ready to burn the entire village to the ground.

Nightmare blinked, momentarily disoriented as he focused on your face, taking in every detail. Despite the clear anger plastered across your features, you looked... beautiful. Ethereal, even. His eye lights flickered, a deep purple blush creeping across his cheekbones. His metamorphic heart began to pound, fast and hard. He couldn’t help but stare at you, utterly entranced

You looked like an angel to him— his very-own guardian angel.

'How could anyone be so beautiful?' His mind whispered before abruptly stopping as another wave of embarrassment washed over him. 'stop it. Stop thinking like that!' he scolded himself, He felt ashamed for even thinking this way, knowing you were only doing this because you cared for him as a friend. But that didn’t stop the thoughts from flooding in.

He quickly averted his gaze, his eyes darting to the grassy ground. Nightmare snapped his gaze away from you, staring down at the ground where his book lay open in the grass. It was an old story—one about a prince and a beast.

He hadn’t finished it yet, but the scene that stuck with him the most was the prince, leaning down to kiss the beast and break the curse, turning them into a beautiful princess.

His mind wandered again, and suddenly, he imagined you as the prince. And him? Well, he’d be the beast, of course. A cursed creature, waiting for someone to save him, waiting for you to...

...

Another layer purple flush dusted his cheekbones. It's a surprise you still haven't noticed it at this point (or maybe, you choose to ignore it). The thought made his entire face flush purple, his bones tingling with a strange warmth. 'What’s wrong with me?' He felt his soul twist in embarrassment, heat rising in his skull. 'This is so stupid, so embarrassing!'

“Hey, are you zoning out again?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face, pulling him back once more. Nightmare blinked rapidly, feeling the cold sweat trickling down his forehead.

“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled. His voice was small, meek.

#₊·꒰ა 👁️‍🗨️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ cheru's writing #sans x reader #sans x y/n #passive nightmare sans #yandere sans #₊·꒰ა 👁️‍🗨️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ yandere

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grifonecoronato · 4 months ago

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Hot Take: Oshamir is One-Sided

[Spoilers for The Acolyte]

Star Wars fans know that Osha and Qimir’s relationship is doomed to end tragically. The Sith is a culture that eats itself: the apprentice either kills the master and takes their place, or is killed by the master in the attempt. So even if Qimir kills Darth Plagueis (and we know this won’t happen), he’s just going to have to deal with Osha attempting to kill him one day.

(Side note: I have a sneaking suspicion that Qimir is not actually Sith, since he never calls himself one, he just says "a Jedi like you would call me, Sith." But that's a topic for another day...)

Given what I know about The Acolyte fandom, a doomed romance is hardly something we'll shy away from; we’ll revel in the tragedy of it all, and the sadder it is and the harder we hurt, the more we'll love it!

No, I want to discuss something else; something I don't think many Acolyte fans really want to acknowledge... that the “romance” as shown at the end of series is one-sided: Qimir's side. The last shot of the series implies that Qimir and Osha are ready to face the galaxy together, hand-in-hand, but...

Qimir cares for Osha; Osha does not care for Qimir.

Hey! HEY!

Put your pitchforks down and just hear me out, please!

What Qimir Desires and Fears

Qimir -- his arms muddy, his dark hair slick against his sweaty brow, holding Mae hostage with his lightsaber threatening to ignite through her skull at any moment -- explains his motivation to Sol:

"[I want] freedom: the freedom to wield my power the way I like, without having to answer to Jedi like you. I want a pupil. An acolyte."

Qimir wants acceptance and connection, to be seen and appreciated by someone else. But he mentions several times that he wants a pupil, which by definition would put him in a position of power and authority over someone else, even if it's to help build them up.

This presents an underlying contradiction in what Qimir says he wants, versus what he really wants:

Does he want an equal who sees and cares for him?

Or does he want a pupil that he can teach from a position of power?

The show leaves the answer ambiguous, but nestled in this contradiction lies Qimir's biggest fear.

Qimir fears opening up and being seen. He wears a mask to conceal his identity, but he also hides his character behind his personas: the buffoon, the nervous helper, the murderer, the teacher, the seducer...

From Qimir's point-of-view, he's been betrayed before, and that betrayal left scars...

"I was [a Jedi]. A long time ago... [...] It was a really long time ago."

...so he needs to protect himself from getting so close to someone that they harm him again.

Betrayal and Murder on Khofar

So, on Khofar, when Mae reveals that she was only ever using "The Stranger" for her own revenge, Qimir chooses to kill her.

He could have chosen to run back to his ship and let Mae rot in Jedi jail (or wherever they take murderous Force-users...), rather than risk discovery. Attacking Mae and the Jedi was not a smart move if he feared being seen. But that doesn't matter: he's Sith, and he finds strength in his emotions, including his own fear.

So, he resolved to commit murder against Kelnacca, then slay the whole Jedi posse hunting Mae, and then deal with Mae.

But here's the thing: Qimir likes to frame his actions as self-defence...

"I killed Jedi. I killed those who threaten my existence."

..but this isn't actually true, is it? He didn't need to kill Kelnacca in his home -- Kelnacca, who knew nothing about Qimir, or Indara's death, or Torbin's death, or any recent event really, and who was absolutely no threat to him -- nor didn't need to face off against the entire Jedi posse.

He chose to commit murder and engage in combat because he couldn't stand the fact that Mae used and betrayed him.

Osha Sees Through Qimir

The conversation between Qimir and Osha seems to be him slowly convincing her that the Jedi are terrible, and that she should find her own path to power.

And, of course, that he can be her guide.

After all, he answers nearly every one of her questions with a question of his own, in a kind of socratic method designed to make her question her own judgment.

All the while, Qimir uses a gentle voice and gentle touch to signal that he yearns for her, that he craves her acceptance, that he can help her if she just accept it, that she can trust him.

To make her feel safe, he even lets her hold his lightsaber...! (😏 ...ladies...!)

This seems to work since Osha is engaging him in conversation. But Osha has seen Qimir in action, and knows that there is no possible way for her to defeat him directly.

Osha has the lightsaber, but Qimir holds all the power here.

Despite that, Osha calls him out many times on his choices.

"You killed Jecki."

"You killed Yord."

"I'm not my sister. I'm not so easily corrupted."

Osha never takes her eyes off her objective: to escape Qimir, get back to Sol, and confront her sister for her crimes.

Osha's Fatal Flaw

Mae and Osha are binary opposites in their personalities and motivations. Where Mae is community-minded, Osha is independent. Where Mae values tradition, Osha values freedom. And where Mae tries to repair frayed relationships, Osha does not forgive those who cross her.

It is this last trait that proves to be the fatal flaw that leads her down the Dark Side.

Osha. Does. Not. Forgive.

When Osha first saw Mae as an adult, she shot her!

She didn't try to reason with her. She didn't try to help her escape. She didn't say "how did you survive?" or "I missed you."

She just fired.

But you know what? Maybe emotions were running high, right? The moment was very heated, so spontaneous violence like that could just be a one-off thing, surely?

Except that the second time they meet, Osha tries to arrest Mae without listening to her story.

And the third time they meet, Osha is downright raging and trying to kill Mae...

... which is a little confusing to Mae because she's trying to help Osha!

And it is Osha's inability to forgive which leads her to committing her first murder, when she finally learns that Sol had lied to her for years.

Osha falls to the Dark Side all by herself, of her own volition.

Doomed Romance

After she kills Sol, Qimir continues to use gentle touch with Osha, pursuing his seduction of her.

But when Mae asked Osha "what do you want, Osha?", she didn't reply with "I want to be with Qimir."

She said:

"Let [Mae] go, and I will train with you."

It was a bargain, for which she offered Qimir what he wanted most: a pupil who accepts him.

Osha is signalling that she cares for him. But she doesn't.

Osha cares for her sister. And Osha does not forgive.

She remembers that Jecki and Yord were her friends, and they had nothing to do with Sol's crimes. They were innocent, and he killed them when he went out of his way to engage the Jedi in combat.

Osha is playing Qimir, just as Mae did. She will learn from him to use the Force, and then take those teachings to fulfil her own goal of rescuing Mae and restoring her memories.

Qimir will learn the truth of their relationship one day, and on that day, like all Sith masters and apprentices, he will kill her, or she will kill him.

(because that is not the face of a happy couple)

#star wars #writing #the acolyte #osha aniseya #mae aniseya #storytelling #oshamir #qimir #spoilers #character analysis #amandla stenberg #manny jacinto #master sol #renew the acolyte #lee jung jae #Grown up Star Wars

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sokkastyles · 1 month ago

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Thanks for responding to my previous post

Now I want to ask you what do you think about the comic about Azula in the temple of the spirits?

And what do you think it means that Azula seemed to be more afraid of the monster-vision Zuko than the original spirit? Could it be a way of implying that what she would fear most is admitting that the person she hurt the most was her brother?

This scene is actually one of the most interesting parts of the comic, both for what is overtly stated and what is not overtly stated.

Monster Zuko says that Azula doesn't want to admit that she's hurt the people she cares most about because she's afraid of being alone. And while that is true, I think what isn't stated is actually even more interesting, and has to do with the fact that the spirit takes the form of Zuko, specifically

Because Azula is afraid of her love for Zuko.

Sometimes the comics give me these little golden tidbits, and some of those are the glimpses we get into Zuko and Azula's relationship. Like Azula saying that Zuko was too fearful to accompany her in searching for secret passages in the palace. Something that does match with what we see of them in the show as younger children. Or Zuko saying he always had to play the villain when they played. Although Zuko was older, Azula was clearly more dominant, which is not surprising at all considering how Ozai treated them. That also meant that Azula got a front row seat to what happens if you aren't the stronger sibling.

Azula is afraid of being Zuko. So she protects herself by making herself Not-Zuko, which also means she is complicit in Zuko's abuse, because hurting Zuko is a way to prove how much stronger she is than him. Being Zuko means you get hurt. So she has to be Not Zuko.

But Zuko is supposed to be her big brother. He's supposed to protect her from the monsters. He couldn't, of course, because he couldn't protect himself.

And that isn't Zuko's fault. I have no patience for the "Zuko was a bad big brother" argument, because Zuko could not be a big brother to Azula. I think part of her resented him for that, although when they're older, I also think she resents that he tries. In The Search when Zuko tries to take care of her, she pretty handily puts him on his back, reasserting both that she is the more dominant sibling AND that she doesn't (won't let herself) want his care.

Zuko represents Azula's vulnerability in so many ways. So when the spirit appears to her as her brother playing on her own deeply buried guilt, what does Azula do?

She kills it.

This, to me, is pretty heavily symbolic of how Azula had to sacrifice that relationship with her brother to survive, to prove she was better as a means of protecting herself, which also meant hurting Zuko. And some part of her mourns that loss.

Represented by her mother.

Her mother who screams in terror as Azula symbolically kills her brother. Her mother who loved Zuko despite the fact that he was weak. Her mother who asks "what did you do?" An accusation. An affirmation that Azula has become the monster she thinks her mother thought she was.

There's so much you can take from this scene. Is Azula afraid that she will kill Zuko? Is this a manifestation of Ursa's fear that Azula might harm her brother, something Azula might have picked up on as a child? Is it Azula's fear that Ozai might kill Zuko? Is it Azula trying to kill her own fear and, realizing in the process, that she has also hardened herself to love, an act that is really self-destructive, because killing Zuko is like killing that part of herself that is needy and vulnerable and wants love?

This is actually really interesting because what it says is that what Azula fears most is actually killing those fears and truly being the monster, not feeling anything. Not even being able to enjoy her victory because it also means her own self destruction.

#azula #zuko #azula in the spirit temple

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 1 year ago

Note

Your Mihawk has me weak on my knees so I wanted to request something for him.

S/O has scars on her body, mainly on arms. She does fight but some of them look… too precise. One time after she loses a fight she is really pissed and nervous, she goes to a place alone. There he sees her just giving herself a scar with a knife on her arm. Turns out she was taught scars are signs of losses and if she doesn't get one in battle then afterwards she needs to do it herself. That's why she's so determined to always win. She hates scars.

@patisilence tagging since I'm not sure if you'll get this since I had to save it as a draft to format everything right.

Anyway.

I DID IT I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT

I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭

And I honestly really really want to thank you. This is my first ever fic-request, for one.

And also, writing this has been an absolute emotional rollercoaster. I have kind of a personal history with self-harm and I wanted to depict it as realistically as possible. Which resulted in heavy focus on character development, which resulted in this practically turning into a novella. I'm going to split it up into a few chapters to streamline things and link them all in this post.

If I do it right, then the entire thing should already be posted when I post this, but I'm still pretty new to Tumblr so bear with me. Each chapter should be between 3k-4k words.

And ALSO ALSO I've been planning a longer Mihawk X OC fic, and I really hope you don't mind me using this concept for it? Because it honestly ties a lot of things together for me

Soooooo without further ado, here's the whole author note thing.

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 1

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 2

Ch.3

You were hiding something.

In the few months that Mihawk had known you, he had come to learn a fair bit about you. He knew, for instance, that you had over the past few years made something of a name for yourself as a sword for hire, typically among pirate crews who required a more discreet touch.

That this reputation of yours had led the Buggy Pirates to hire you to assist in stealing a map of the Grand Line from a Marine base in Shells Town. You had failed to procure the map before it was stolen by other hands, leaving you in their debt. Buggy had sunk your sloop to prevent your escape, and you had gotten stuck working for the ridiculous crew for a brief time, remained stuck with them until the Strawhat upstarts offered you passage with them.

Mihawk knew you had traveled with them as far as Baratie, where you had crossed his own path for the first time at the bar on the ship's deck. Where you had approached him with a bargain—if he left Roronoa Zoro alive after their duel the following morning, you would serve him for a year, an errand girl to send off on whatever menial tasks the World Government assigned him.

"And why would I want a little bird flitting around after me around for an entire year?" Mihawk had asked coolly.

And yet you had made a fair point—acting as a government lapdog was growing old. He had been sent after the vice admiral's grandson, for heavens' sake, as if he had nothing better to do with his time than to handle the old fool's family disputes.

Though the surly pirate warlord wouldn't have dared to dream of admitting it at the time, you had his attention. Your offer of unquestioned devotion, your confident demeanor as you sipped a glass of whiskey and kept your eyes on his without showing an ounce of fear or intimidation. You were certainly an interesting diversion from the otherwise dull task that had been laid before him, and your certainty that he would accept your offer had irritated and intrigued him in near equal measure.

It was intrigue that won out in the end. He had left his challenger clinging to the edge of life and taken you with him on his departure. You stayed toe to toe with him in wit and banter, and that alone would have been more than enough to draw him closer to your charm. He had wanted you before two weeks were out, wanted to claim you as far more than his "errand girl," and it was easy to see from the way you effortlessly returned his subtle flirtations that you wanted the same.

And now you were lying back across his broad chest in the hammock aboard your new sloop, a book open over your chest and his hand resting over your stomach, his other tucked under his neck as he frowned thoughtfully up at the roof of the small ship's cabin, pondering over the whirlwind of events that had led up to this moment.

It had been just over two months since the pirate lord had taken you as his lover, and you had been an open book about most things. Your training under your grandmother. Your setting out on your own from a small island village to find your parents, or some clue of their disappearance. The many and varied pirate crews you had served as a hired hand.

Yet you refused to discuss your scars.

Any seafarer with a history as sordid as your own had their share of battle scars. Mihawk had a fair few of his own; one didn't become the most renowned swordsman in the world without a few losses, after all. Yet your voice turned to clear contempt when yours were mentioned, even in passing, and you tensed like a statue when his hands brushed over them. You were confident to the point of near arrogance, yet you clearly held nothing but shame and contempt for the many marks that marred your delicate skin.

Some of which appeared oddly...uniform, for having been gained in battle.

It was in part—in great measure, honestly—the mystery of you that had drawn him in to begin with, and this was just another mystery that Mihawk intended to unravel.

You closed your book abruptly, stirring him from his thoughts as he glanced down at you. He watched you gaze thoughtfully toward the ceiling for a long moment, your hand resting over his at your stomach, before you finally spoke up.

"Reading a book is just staring at a dead tree and vividly hallucinating."

You tilted your head back, grinning as his mouth turned down in a frown and his brow furrowed at your ridiculous statement. Mihawk sighed wearily, plucking the book from your hands and lightly rapping you over the forehead with it.

"No," he scolded, as you giggled softly. He sighed heavily again, dropping the book over the back of the hammock before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to give me a stroke?"

"No," you said, imitating his scolding tone. You stretched your arms out over your head, arching your back for a moment, before rolling over to lay across his chest and brush your lips to his. "But it's fun seeing the look on your face."

"You irritate my very soul, little one," he said, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"And I enjoy every second of it," you countered, grinning as you laid your forehead against his.

"I can tell."

Your grin managed to draw a small smile from him, before he lifted a hand into your hair and pulled you down into a slow, deep kiss. Your fingertips came to rest at his broad shoulders, the hammock swaying slowly in the steady ocean waves carrying the ship along. He knew as well as you did that he wasn't honestly irritated—your strange sense of humor had grown on him, as starkly as it contrasted to his dry sarcasm, and he rarely had the pleasure of meeting anyone as adept at keeping up with his own banter.

You lay your cheek at his shoulder when your lips parted, your eyes slipping shut and your contented sigh tickling against his neck.

"If the wind holds steady it will be a few hours before we make port," you said, your voice low and soft. "I suggest we don't move from here in the meantime."

"I'm not sure I've ever heard a finer suggestion."

Mihawk pulled one of your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. He pulled his hat down over his eyes to block out the sun pouring through the windows of the small cabin, tucked his hand back behind his neck again, and shifted beneath you to get comfortable as he closed his eyes. His arm remained curled around your waist, his hand slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt so his thumb could rub slow circles over your soft skin as you both drifted off toward the peaceful recess of sleep.

The first thing that struck Mihawk when he woke was that you weren't in his arms.

Every day and night for nearly two months, he had fallen asleep and woken with you against him, and the absence of your warmth jarred him instantly awake and aware. His eyes scanned around his surroundings as he sat up, taking in where he was—the small cabin of the sloop he had recently bought you as a replacement for the one Buggy's crew had sunk.

His sharp yellow eyes darted toward the door, taking in the sound of unfamiliar, muffled voices outside the cabin.

He was standing in an instant, straightening his hat and pulling Yoru onto his back as he slipped silently through the door and onto the small deck of the sloop.

There was another sloop tethered to yours.

A pair of no-name pirates holding you against the bow ny your arms, their captain pressing the barrel of his pistol to your forehead as they bickered.

"There has to be something on board."

"We could just take her. Looks like she's probably a feisty little thing."

"Still have to check the cabins. Could be—"

Mihawk cleared his throat.

The trio turned their heads in almost comedic synchrony, their jaws dropping at the mere sight of him leaning against the door of the cabin. Mihawk's eyes flickered from them to you, and you averted your eyes, clearly ashamed to be seen in such a compromising situation.

So he shifted his gaze back to the opposing pirates, his eyes flickering between each of them.

"You will remove your hands from the girl or I will gladly remove them for you," he said levelly, lifting his eyebrows.

They quickly let go of your arms, and stepped away when he moved forward to wrap a hand around your wrist and pull you to him. He curled his arm around your waist, lowering his head over yours for a moment and murmuring quietly, "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head no quickly, your jaw set at a rigid angle as you turned your gaze down to your feet, your shoulders tense. He pressed a light kiss to your temple for a long moment before lifting his gaze back to the trio that had dared board your ship, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken threat.

"Go." They remained frozen, glancing between each other. "Now."

They scrambled back over to their ship immediately, severing the ropes that were tethering it to yours. Mihawk kept his arm around you, but his eyes remained trained onto the opposing sloop as it drifted away on the wind, debating on just drawing his sword and splitting it in half on the spot.

He turned his attention back down to you when you began to pull away from him. He pulled you in close again, frowning. It wasn't at all like you to be bested by a few no-names, and it was clear that you weren't taking it very well.

"Tell me what happened," he said finally.

"I woke up," you said curtly. "Thought I'd check the charts and see how far we were from Shells Town. They were already on the deck. Seemed to think this was a small merchant vessel since there's no flag. I'd left my knives in the cabin and I was still half asleep when I came out here. By the time I registered what was going on, one of them had a pistol to my head."

You really weren't making a very good case for him to not sink their boat. He cut his eyes briefly toward the sloop before looking back down at you, your face shadowed by your hair as you stared down at the deck floor.

"Their captain started questioning me about cargo," you continued. "Told them there wasn't anything valuable on board. They were discussing taking me as compensation." You sighed heavily. "And that's when you chose to enter stage left and take approximately twenty years off the end of their lives."

He rolled his eyes the slightest bit at your quip. "I would have taken a great deal more than that had they hurt you."

"Well, they didn't," you replied, your voice still curt. Mihawk lifted an eyebrow. "And it's perhaps best not to go splitting any boats in half a stone's throw away from a naval base," you added, nodding back toward the bow of the vessel.

Mihawk gave a quick glance as well. He had been too focused on the fiasco he had just awoken to to notice that Shells Town was visible on the horizon now. It wasn't as if the Marines could do much about it if he did sink the sloop, but you were right—it would still be more of a hassle than it was worth. He sighed, shaking his head a little, and curled a hand under your chin to lift your gaze to his. You still kept your eyes averted, your jaw set. He hadn't seen you lose a fight before—apart from sparring with him while training, but that hardly counted.

You had proven to be quite the fighter when he had decided to test you. You were nowhere near his equal, but you knew precisely how to play to your strengths with your pair of daggers and your throwing knives. Your stature made you difficult to target even in single combat, your movements a graceful dance that toed the line between evasion and power.

Yet one loss—and a rather inconsequential loss, at that—and you were beating yourself up over it quite a great deal more than what constituted normalcy. Mihawk wasn't sure whether to scold you for being dramatic or attempt to comfort you.

"You were caught off guard, little one," he said after a long moment, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "There's no need to be so upset over that."

"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," you retorted, pursing your lips a little. "Blades or no, I should have been able to take care of those idiots."

"Annoyed, then," he allowed with a small sigh. "And I've no doubt you would have had I not woke. I was simply able to handle it a bit more...subtly."

"Oh, yes, because sauntering out onto the deck with a giant sword and threatening to cut off their hands was so subtle," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you finally rolled your eyes over to his, lifting your eyebrows.

"Don't be a brat," he chided lightly. "We still have at least half an hour before we make port." Mihawk abruptly wrapped his hand around your chin and pressed his lips to yours in a brief, deep kiss that made you draw in a sharp breath. He parted just as you started to lean into it, resting his forehead against yours. He lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. "I would truly hate to have to spend it punishing you, my little bird."

You quirked an eyebrow, your lips curving in a small, coy smirk. "No you wouldn't."

He gave you a thoughtful frown and a small shrug of his shoulder. "Perhaps not." You let out a small cry of alarm when he stooped down and quickly scooped you up from the deck floor, one arm beneath your knees and his other curled around your back. "I suppose we'll just have to find out."

You chuckled lightly as he carried you to the door of the main cabin, plucking his hat off of his head and placing it on your own as you brushed your lips to his in a soft, teasing manner. Mihawk lifted his eyebrows when you nipped lightly at his bottom lip.

"You're really pushing your luck, my dear," he cautioned.

He lowered you down to the double bed in the cabin, his thumb rubbing small circles at the back of your neck. You lifted yourself onto your elbows, your lips nearly brushing his before he pulled back just far enough to stop you, lightly gripping your hair at the nape of your neck to keep you from sitting up any higher. You gave a small whine of protest, but didn't try to struggle against his grip—you and he both knew there was no point.

"Lie down." His voice remained low and intimate, but there was a subtle command in his tone, in the way his gaze burned into your own. You bit your bottom lip lightly, lowering yourself back down onto the bed fully. A soft, quivering sigh left your lips as he slowly began slipping the buttons down the front of your shirt loose. "Hands over your head. And you don't move them an inch until I tell you you can."

"Mmm..." You hummed thoughtfully, and Mihawk paused in unbuttoning your shirt as you lifted your arms from the bed, holding your hands high above you, straight up in the air. "I think my arms might end up getting tired."

Your lips pursed a little, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and he lifted an eyebrow at you. "You're certainly in rare form today."

Mihawk wrapped his hand around both of your wrists, shoving your hands down into the plush white comforter over your head, and a couple giggles escaped you before you bit your lip again. It was honestly a bit endearing, how cheeky you were being—and all the moreso, as it appeared you were being so brazen just so he could have his fun with your punishment.

You were enticing him more and more every passing day, beyond the physical desire that had led him to claim you as his a couple months ago. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly accustomed to, nor was he quite sure what to make of it yet. He knew only that when he had seen you held captive against the bow of the boat, an emotion had flashed through him for a moment that he hadn't experienced in years.

For the briefest moment, Dracule Mihawk had felt fear.

He was not ready to contend with the connotations of that.

And he was a bit too busy at the moment, anyway. He let his forehead touch yours, his lips hovering a breath away from your own.

"You don't move your hands," he repeated, tilting his head to just barely graze his lips against your neck, drawing a small moan from your lips, "until I give you permission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir..." you sighed softly, your eyes slipping shut as he kissed down your collarbone, pushing your shirt open. His hand released your wrists and trailed down your arms, down to knead at the soft tissue of your breast through the sheer lace of your bra, feeling your nipple harden against his palm. He tugged the cups down, just a bit too hard given he felt one of them tear in his grasp, but that was a problem for later, not now.

You gasped out when he briefly pulled one of your stiff nipples into his mouth, his grip tightening slightly around your ribcage as you arched your chest toward his swirling tongue. His gaze flicked up to watch you writhe and shudder under his touch, your fingers digging into the bedsheets behind you, your hands searching for anything to keep occupied with.

"Very good," he praised, lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes and brushing his lips to your jaw. "You see?" He wrapped his hand around your jaw and lightly pressed his lips to yours. "It's much better when you're a good little bird, isn't it?"

"This—doesn't feel much like a punishment," you commented, gasping softly as he circled the pad of his thumb around your nipple, lightly skimming across it once or twice.

"Yet," he corrected.

And gave you a small, devilish smirk, before lowering his head and biting down on the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Just hard enough to leave behind a small bruise, to draw a sharp cry from your lips and send a shiver through your body.

He straightened out as you heaved a sigh, standing over you. Your eyes remained glued to him while he shrugged away his long coat and tossed it back into a chair behind him, noting how your hands tightened down on the bedsheets again.

"Remember we still have a half an hour before we reach Shells Town." His fingertips curled around the waist of your shorts, the lace of your panties beneath them, and slowly inched them down your hips. "I could spend the entirety of it teasing you." Mihawk noted the movement in your throat as you swallowed in nervous anticipation, your eyes glued to his as he pulled them up the length of your legs and off, flinging them aside. "Making you beg for release but never allowing you the satisfaction."

How beautiful it was that it only took a few words to pull a blush to your cheeks and make your breath hitch. He brushed a light kiss to your calf and pushed your legs apart, rubbing his palms up your inner thighs.

"You're going to have to be on your best behavior if you want more, my sweet little bird." Trailing a single finger up your soft folds, dragging through your slick arousal and across your clit, pulling a small whimper from your lips. "Or would you rather I just torment you?"

You bit your lip, shaking your head quickly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his fingertips trailing up. It was a struggle for him not to chuckle at you—always just cheeky enough to be amusing, but you knew the pleasure he could give you, were so desperate for it that you folded like a cheap deck of cards under his slightest touch.

Absolutely perfect.

Mihawk moved his hands up from your thighs, curling an arm under your back to lift you up and shift you further back on the bed. Your breathing was ragged with anticipation as he brushed his lips to your stomach, trailing his hands back down to your hips, his lips lower and lower, grazing slowly across the soft skin between your hip bones.

Shifting lower and dragging his tongue slowly up your slit, circling the sensitive bud at the apex, giving a quiet growl of approval as your breathy, shuddering moans filled the small cabin and your hips arched in his hands.

His gaze turned up toward your face, watching you draw closer to falling apart with every passing moment. This was only the beginning, and he still hadn't decided if he was going to give you what you wanted...but the sight of your divine, nearly naked and writhing under his touch with his hat still resting on your head made him just a little weak.

He moved from between your legs before he could get lost in the sight of you and the sweet sounds of your moans, reveling in the agonized whimper that left you as he trailed his mouth back up your stomach.

Across to your ribs, pausing at your breasts to brush his lips and his skilled tongue across your sensitive nipples.

Dragging his tongue up the column of your throat, seizing a fistful of your hair and crushing his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss, shoving your hip down onto the mattress to keep you from grinding against him, shifting his hand between your thighs to circle a finger around your tight entrance without pushing in. Your low moans and whines of protest were like music to his ears, your knuckles gone white from the force with which you gripped at the sheets over your head to keep your hands from wandering.

Every slow pass up and down your body brought you closer to the peak of pleasure but never quite there—and brought him closer and closer to caving in and giving it to you. He had to wonder whether you had any idea just how much of a temptation you were to him. It had been years since the pirate lord had allowed any woman to affect him quite as strongly as you had.

How much time had passed couldn't be ascertained for sure when he reached his breaking point—his mouth pressed into the crook of your neck while you moaned and begged desperately in his ear, one of his hands squeezing your breast hard enough to bruise the soft flesh while his other worked his belt buckle open and shoved his pants down his hips in a desperation that rivaled yours.

He shoved your open shirt up your shoulders and arms and flung it away; gripped one of your thighs, pushing your leg up as high as it would go, and the low growl that left his throat as he thrust into you was drowned out by your own cries of abandon. Your hips arched up from the bed to meet his, one of your arms flinging around his neck and your hooking beneath his arm to grip hard at his shoulder.

"I don't recall giving you permission to move," he breathed into your neck. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his hips forward hard, shoving yours back down into the bed as you cried out again, your slick walls tightening around his cock.

"I—I'm sorry, I can't—I can't—please—" You gasped, your head falling back as he moved in you in deep, hard thrusts, your fingernails dragging down his back. "Oh God, please—"

He lifted a hand to grasp at your hair as he crushed his lips to yours, delving his tongue into your mouth and drawing in a deep breath as you moaned desperately into the fierce kiss. The prospect of punishing you, of what the hell he had even been punishing you for was forgotten in this rush of unquenchable lust and desire, of pure carnal need for your body.

He normally hated losing control, but this was on another level entirely. There was no room to hate this, no room for anything but pure pleasure, for getting lost inside you as your walls tightened around his cock, as every muscle in his groin tensed and tightened in anticipation of impending release—

Your lips breaking away from his, your cry of abandon as your climax swept over you pulled him right over the edge with you. He pulled your hip up from the bed to slam into you as he came, gritting his teeth against a low groan, the rhythmic contractions of your tight channel milking him dry. His hips jerked toward yours with each intense wave of pleasure, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed his lips to your neck, the two of you shuddering and tangled together over the bedsheets.

Mihawk heaved a shuddering sigh into the crook of your neck, his fingers tangled in your hair as he brushed his thumb across your temple. Maybe it was the lingering euphoria, but he didn't even think about the next words that left his mouth before he heard them himself.

"God dammit, (Y/N), I love you."

But it was impossible to deny any longer. You really were everything he had never realized he craved. No, it wasn't just the euphoria in the moment—it was that brief flash of fear earlier at the thought of you being hurt, at the thought of losing you. The utter fury at the morons who had briefly held you captive. How perfectly you balanced and complemented his desires.

He felt as much as heard you draw in a small gasp beneath him. "Y—you—wh—?"

"You heard me," Mihawk interrupted your quiet, almost cautious stammering, murmuring against your neck. He brushed his lips against one of the small, round bruises he had left on the soft skin, and said it again, quietly, "I love you."

You were quiet for a long moment, but he wasn't concerned, still trailing kisses up the side of your neck. He had seen it in your eyes before now, heard it in the softness of your voice when you lay against him, your fingers in his hair and your lips brushing his.

Several seconds passed, before you turned your head slowly and pressed your lips to his, tentatively at first, and then deepening the slow kiss with a soft sigh. He shifted onto his side, tugging you to him by your hip. Your forehead came to rest against his as your lips drifted apart, still barely a breath away, your eyes closed, your voice a quiet whisper.

"I...love you."

(Ch. 2)

#opla #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk #fanfic #mihawk one piece #mihawk opla #fluff #mihawk x reader #smut

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canonizzyhours · 7 months ago

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The thing that really upsets me about the canyon is - look, they're always claiming their opponents are committing the sin of Character Hate, right? Character Hate is supposedly always bad faith and always wrong. But the only takes on Izzy that they'll accept as not qualifying as "hate" are ones that require incredibly bad faith uncharitable interpretations of other characters.

Season 1 left a lot of stuff about Izzy open to interpretation. But one thing was clear: what Izzy said to Ed in the "namby-pamby" scene was not just cruel in the usual way it's cruel to tell someone who's heartbroken to just man up because he'd be better off dead than acting like this (which would be bad enough honestly), it was the absolute most hurtful thing Ed Teach specifically could hear at that moment because it was stabbing him directly in the core trauma he'd carried for his entire life. Ed's absolute worst fear in the whole world is that the violence he's capable of, as exemplified by having killed his dad, proves he is a monster instead of an actual human person capable of love or friendship. So Izzy tells him he's just embarrassing himself trying to reach out to others, says his real self is a violent monster, then goads him till he does something violent and says see, this is the real you. That's insanely targeted. If you sat down and tried to think of the single most most incredibly harmful and triggering thing you could say or do to Ed you couldn't have done any better.

So that means the viewer has two options for how to interpret Izzy:

1) Izzy does not really know Ed very well at all when you get down to it, despite how long they've worked together. He doesn't get what Ed's trauma is all about or how it affects him and the fact that what he said is Ed's absolute deepest fear is just a coincidence. So he truly does not understand just how hurtful he's being and would never have said that stuff if he'd known.

2) Izzy does understand Ed pretty accurately and therefore he is being incredibly viciously cruel on purpose by deliberately reinforcing his most painful and unhealthy beliefs about himself, knowing how it's going to affect him.

Those are the only two possibilities! You could have an Izzy whose relationship with Ed was close enough to deeply understand him, or you could have an Izzy who actually cared about Ed and didn't want to hurt him. But you could not have both. The closer you assumed Ed and Izzy were, and the more actual trust and intimacy and understanding you thought existed between them, then the crueler you had to assume Izzy was being.

But the canyon didn't want to accept that! They want to insist that Ed and Izzy had a really close relationship involving trust and intimacy and understanding AND that Izzy cares deeply about Ed's well-being and only ever wants to act in his best interests. So they found a third option, which was to just throw out Ed's entire character arc.

If you refused to believe Ed's arc was what it very obviously was, then you could deny that Izzy was actually being all that hurtful. You just deny that Ed's arc is about fearing the exact things Izzy told him were true about himself. Instead they said...well, a lot of them just didn't seem to really care that they didn't have a clear sense of what Ed's arc was at all, but those who did seem to care about Ed settled on: Ed's problem is that he actually DOES have something deeply wrong with him that makes him uncontrollably violent and he's simply trying to run away from that, which is unhealthy, so Izzy is looking out for him by trying to force him to confront these hard truths, which he needs to do before he can grow. But unfortunately Ed completely overreacted to Izzy's harsh truth-telling.

Now I mean think about the narrative this implies. This means OFMD is a romcom centered around the idea that the indigenous lead's deep seated belief that he's an uncontrollably violent monster is ACTUALLY TRUE and the white man who tells him so is just trying to help him. That would be a narrative that was (a) incredibly mean-spirited, (b) intensely racist, and (c) made no sense at all as a love story centered on this character. Which is how you should be able to tell it's an absurd read! And it's supposed to be the people who say "no, Ed's arc is what it looks like, which means Izzy either isn't especially close to him or is emotionally abusing him on purpose" who are spreading character hate.

This is why we're always pointing out that you have to understand Ed is a lead character and Izzy is a supporting one. I know the canyon thinks that's some sort of pedantry but it matters here, because if an interpretation you like because of what it does for a supporting character's arc comes at the cost of making the lead character's arc totally nonsensical, that's a pretty basic way you can tell it's reading against the text!

So now we're post season 2. And season 2 not only unsurprisingly followed up on the character arc Ed actually did have in season 1, but it managed to go with the canyon worst case scenario of repeatedly reinforcing that Izzy really does not understand Ed very well in many ways AND ALSO AT THE SAME TIME specifying in his final scene that Izzy DID understand JUST enough to realize the whole time that he was being terrible to Ed and did it anyway on purpose for years. Super embarrassing for those guys. I guess the massive tantrums they threw about season 2 aren't really a surprise.

#406.

#ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #edizzy #fandom critical #canonizzyhours

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quixotical-lymbo · 6 months ago

Note

hi! Sorry for requesting AGAIN, I just- augh LOVE your writing, chefs kiss! But anyway- onto the request!

could you do a Wukong or Macaque (whichever one you want, I don’t particularly mind!) with a GN reader who takes dares like super seriously? One of their bad traits is that they don’t know how to step down from a challenge. Someone dared them to microwave a fork? Doesn’t even matter if it was a joke they’re still gonna do it! Romantic if you don’t mind! ^^

also remember to take breaks and drink some water!

Pairing: Macaque x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Never double dog dare a person who has no fear and the balls to do it. Warnings/Tags: Pigsy, Sandy, and Mei cameo, implied drowning, and cussing/strong language used. Word Count: 500+ words

"...ca…seri��sto.."

Your hearing was the first thing that brought you back from the world of unconsciousness. The pounding headache followed after as you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

"..never…me..and…"

Your eyelids struggled to lift and a soft whine left you as the fuzzy sounding noises increased tenfold.

"Well it certainly looks like it!" Pigsy gestured to you, his eyes flicked onto your face before gasping as you managed to crack one eye open.

"..huh..?" You flinched when a collective shout came from the crowd of people circling the bed you were on. Mei, Pigsy, and Sandy were there talking to you all at once. You could barely make out anything other than a few 'I'm glad you're awake' and 'don't ever scare us again.'

"Will leave you two alone for a bit," Pigsy sternly glanced at the frowning monkey before dragging both dragon-horse girl and blue giant out of the spare room. You looked at Macaque as he approached the left side of the bed, a goofy smile appeared on your lips as you spoke.

"I did it."

Macaque narrowed his eyes.

"I did it."

"I know." Macaque hissed. "You must be dumb or so stupid to believe I actually meant the damn dare in the first place."

"Well, you shouldn't have teased me," You retorted coolly. "Sitting at the bottom of the ocean for five minutes wasn't that hard after all."

"Do you have any self preservation? At all?" Macaque growled. "Actually, don't answer that, I already know you don't."

"I don't see the big deal, you dared me, I did it, and now you're mad," You looked him in the eyes. "I'm fine."

"You could have died."

"But I didn't," You grinned. Macaque dropped his head in one hand and exhaled deeply.

"Is this funny to you?"

"What?"

"Is this situation a joke to you? You could have seriously harmed yourself—no, you could have died all because of me teasing you?" Macaque's eyes peeked from his hand. You rubbed your hand on your arm and mumbled, "...maybe a little-"

Macaque called your name sharply.

"Fine, fine, I'm sorry, alright?" You crossed your arms and looked away.

Macaque stared at your face for a while before reaching over to grab your arm and unravel your cross to hold your hand. Your face felt warm as you felt a pair of lips ghost over your knuckles.

"No more dares, okay? Not until you're better again."

"Aw, what? C'mon that's not fair!"

Macaque rolled his eyes and joined you on the bed. You grunted as the back of your head was pushed and you were forced to lay against his chest. Not that you were complaining.

"Fine, no more dangerous dares."

"Yippe!"

"Which I'll monitor from now on."

"Aw man."

"Don't pout," Macaque wrapped his arms around you. "If you manage to get more rest I'll get you whatever dessert you want."

"And If I say I want you~?" You threw one leg over his and snuggled closer to the heat radiating off his body.

"Don't push your luck, sleep."

“Yes sir~….OW! Okay, I deserved that."

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!

#lmk x reader #lego monkie kid #macaque x reader #lmk six eared macaque #monkie kid macaque #x reader

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fduck0 · 12 days ago

Text

Im also gonna put my little ramble here bc its silly (also go follow Catherine)

(Quick thing, i have kind of big problem with putting my thoughts into words so keep that inmind pls)

I wanna talk ab how sacrifice is a really important part of Wendy's character. Abigail is summoned in DS through blood sacrifice, which is now translated into DST with the shadow Abby buff by having Wendy murder mobs to boost her damage. Telling Wigfrid she can "take her heart" when she examines her ghost, implying that Wendy is willing to die to bring her back. Harming herself while trying to revive Abby with the new skilltree altar and by making telltale hearts for spectral cure-alls. Along with sacrificing her whole life by going into the constant just to be with her sister.

(We can also talk ab how Abby does the same, constantly getting herself killed just to keep Wendy safe, which creates a cycle BUT NOT THE TOPIC RN)

This all gives us a pretty good picture of Wendys view the world and on herself. Sacrifice is not only one of the only ways her bond with Abigail stays alive but is also a way to show Wendy's poor self image. She is willing to harm herself both mentally and phisically for the sake of the people close to her. We already know that in her own eyes, Wendy thinks she's worthless , so its not a really big surprise that she'd throw away her life to bring back someone that's "useful" and that actually wants to live.

AND THIS IS WHERE WEBBER COMES IN. The moon stone quote "Perhaps it thirsts for a sacrifice. Where's Webber..." MAY seem like a slap in the face to what i just said ab keeping ppl safe BUT ITS NOT.

From other quotes, its clear that Wendy values her life as much or less then the creatures around her MOST of the time. As much as she kills butterflies, she also wants monsters like bearger to kill her. To Wendy, death is the only present she wants.Cue to conclusion number 1. Webbers sacrifice can be seen as Wendy trying to give Webber the only thing she wants in life, which is dying.

BUT THERES MORE. Human sacrifice is a bit of a mixed bag, since it can either be "i will sacrifice someone dear to me" or "fuck this criminal im gonna send them to hell" depending on the culture. CONSIDERING THE "you could never be a monster, Webber" quote, the general dynamic and context, its clearly the first one thankfully. This leaves us with conclusion number 2. Wendy views Webber as someone dear to her and worth sacrificing.

But now we get into the deep shit bc this is Wendy. And like this is the most headcanon-y one so if this makes no sense idk beat me with sticks ANYWAYS.

We have to remember her fear of attachment. I've already talked in another post about Wendy's nihilism being a defense mechanism and all of that so im not gonna repeat it, (i havent uploaded that thread on tumblr and its 4 am rambles) but i feel like this can also be part of it. Webber represents exactly what shes avoiding, which includes moving on and vulnerability. While Wendy is constantly driving herself crazy over Abigail's death in fear of forgetting her, Webber tries to make the best out of his situation and enjoy his life, even when lets be honest, it also sucks ass. Its the opposites attract trope. BUT I FEEL LIKE IN THIS SITUATION THERES ALSO THE COMPLEXITY OF THAT AVOIDANCE.

In DS this mf considers bandages pointless because "she'll only get hurt again" and says in dst that its "too painful" to get a pet kitcoon because of that fear of losing it. From this we could easily point to the fact Wendy is probably not only scared of losing Webber, but also the fact being around him DOES make her happy. So the solution for that?

3. Sacrifice him. He's too good for the constant, so the least Wendy could do is try to free him from the pain of living, losing him both to try to do him a favour in her eyes, along with keeping herself safe by sticking to her miserable life instead of trying to work on getting better. BUT OOPS CLEARLY YOU CANT DO THAT SOOOO. That and the way dst has progressed their friendship over the years its kind of too late for that by now so L Wendy. BUT YEAH final conclusion, I think Wendy seeing Webber as someone worth sacrificing is sweet in her own insane way.Like that mf would probably die for Webber, kill for him and sacrifice him on an altar.

Gold star to whoever read all of this insanity ig

#dst #dst wendy #ds #dst abigail #dst webber

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wangxianficfinder · 1 year ago

Text

In the mood for...

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1. Itmf fics where yzy and jfm are actually good parents and wwx has a good relationship with yzy. It'll be great if you have it in Canon era, but if not, then I don't mind them being modern too

Still Waters by PorcupineGirl (G, 6k, wangxian, canon divergence, cloud recesses study arc, YZY pov, arranged marriage, protective YZY) Cloud recesses study arc, YZY pov, she likes WWX and wants what’s best for him. She set up an arranged marriage between him & LWJ as kids but now thinks that LWJ is too cold and unemotional for WWX.

Hope series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, wangxian, WWX & YZY, WWX & JFM, WWX & JYL, YZY/JFM, JC & WWX, LQR & WWX, LXC & JYL, Madam Jin & YZY, LQR & JFM, LXC & LWJ, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death)

🔒 Of Destruction and Rebirth by demoniqt (M, 88k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, major character death, rape/non-con, underage, graphic depictions of violence, Slow Burn, Canonical Character Death, God WWX, God Verse, BAMF WWX, Grieving LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Gods & Goddesses au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Rabbits, Fix-It, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Castration, Lots of it, repeatedly, Punishment, Hell)

🧡 Heaven Has No Rage by flipfloppandas (M, 51k, WWX & YZY, JFM/YZY, implied wangxian, WWX/WC, WWX/others, rape/non-con, modern, hurt/comfort, protective YZY, good parent YZY, hospitals, medical procedures, vomiting, trauma)

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2. Hi, I'm really in the mood for a fic set in post canon. Wangxian are happily married and there is a JC and WWX reconciliation, but LWJ and JC still don't like each other. I think it is funny if they are trying to tolerate each other's presence for the sake of WWX. But they still give WWX a headache because JC and LWJ still fight ( using words ). Of course it is a bonus if the junior quartet are also in the fic. Expecially JL and WWX having interactions as uncle and nephew. @yunshenlianhua

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, Español Translation Attempting the Impossible by Hummingbird_52, [PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

With Absolute Splendor by Lise (T, 43k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, JC & JL, Post-Canon, POV JC, JC is Bad at Feelings, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Weddings, Wedding Planning, Some politics, Complicated Relationships, Brothers, let's do some HEALING and RELATIONSHIP BUILDING, ode to Lise's Yunmeng Shuangjie feelings in almost 50k words, jc and lwj still don't like each other very much, Angst with a Happy Ending, some people? plan weddings?? to cope???, Podfic Available)

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3. can i have some fics with similar element to "Content Warning: Romance" by ariaste? as in, wwx feeling uncomfortable with being treated tenderly, but not wholly opposed to it either, so lwj showers him with tenderness. can be fluff, or can contain kinky element (in a "i will force u to receive tenderness but i will stop if u safeword"). bonus points if wwx gets so overwhelmed he starts crying

Stray Cat by Surprised_by_witches (E, 148k, WangXian, Modern AU, Dealing With Trauma, Angst, Depression, OCD, Past Drug Use, Non-Binary NHS, Brief suicide ideation, Slow Burn, Self-Harm, Past Child Abuse)

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4. Hi hi hi! Does anyone know of any fics where WWX and JC get along well? Especially where JC calls WWX ge/brother. Could be any setting/plot, just want that family dynamic!

Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It, Lynchpin [PODFIC] by Opalsong, [PODFIC] Lynchpin by Gwogobo)

With Such Impossible Conveyance by Comfect (T, 99k, WangXian, ChengQing, Fix-It, Brotherly Bonding, Angst with a Happy Ending, feelings what feelings, Anger Management, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Swearing, Fluff, Romance, An End to Idiotic Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Except The Bad Guys, Humor, [Podfic] With Such Impossible Conveyance by achluophobia, contributor-sky (deepestbluesky), esbielle was also here (esbielle), flamingwell_collabs, GoLBCollabs (GodOfLaundryBaskets), Hechu, Lavendargrrl, mahons_ondine, mistingsidekick, Ohari, semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona), with (fensandmarshes), with (olive2read))

this storm that should not be by TheDameJudiWench (G, 6k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Drowning, Family Dynamics) (link in #8B)

So You Accidentally Kidnapped A Qilin by Mikkeneko (T, 83k, WangXian, Juuni Kokki | Twelve Kingdoms Fusion, mdm yu’s a+ parenting, Identity Issues, Cultivator Politics, Yin Iron Poisoning, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, WWX Needs a Hug, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Getting Together, Temporary Character Death, Happy Ending, Pacifist WWX, MXTX Big Bang 2021) they do fight, understandable i think given the plot, but they are clearly very close, call each other brother, and have each others' back. in fact that's Mikkeneko's brand, i feel, def check out their other fics

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5. Hello! ITMF Wei Wuxian getting his original body back. In particular, fics which have big dramatic scenes where people are shocked to see WWX in said original body alive again. Thank you so much!

🔒 A Gift in a Curse’s Guise by Setyourlazerstopew (E, 9k, wangxian, post-canon, curse breaking, WWX gets his own body back, strength kink, bottom lwj, undernegotiated kink, manhandling, aftercare)

💖 Transcend by covalentbonds (Not rated, 7k, wangxian, post-canon, fluff & humor, smut, WIP)

a truth universal by curiositykilled (T, 7k, LSZ & WWX, Junior quartet, Post-Canon, Crack Treated Seriously, or at least crack that veered peculiarly into seriousness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Childhood Trauma, WWX's Year of Travel, MianMian cameo, LSZ's fear of abandonment, Misunderstandings, Comedy, Alcohol)

Is Your Old Body Considered a Halloween Costume? by The_peregrine_falcon (G, 3k, WangXian, Fluff, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon)

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6. Hello! Would anyone happen to know of any fics where the yin tiger seal takes a liking to Lan Wangji? @kedaliya

Little Death by sassybluee (E, 28k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, Canon Divergence, Dark WWX, Courtesan LWJ, Violent Thoughts, Resentacles, Mpreg, Magical Pregnancy, PWP, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining while fucking, Bondage, Bottom LWJ, referenced lwj + others, Blood Drinking, YLLZ WWX, Near Death Experiences, accidental near death experiences, Dissociation, sentient resentful energy, Intersex, Lactation Kink, Cunnilingus, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Under-negotiated Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pregnant LWJ, Non-Consensual Body Modification) please read the tags n warnings tho :)

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7. ITMF the juniors crushing on handsome Wei Wuxian? It doesn’t have to be smutty or anything like actual serious crushes. I would love to see puppy love or them being in awe of how cool and powerful and charming he is. Thanks

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8. Hi there! Thank you for recommending so many great fics! A) Itmf fics where WWX overcomes his fear of dogs. B) Also itmf fics where LWJ rescues WWX from drowning. Many thanks 🙏

8A)

Imprints by Lisa_Telramor (G, 47k, wangxian, post-canon, humor, panic attacks, phobia recovery, poor life choices, JC & WWX reconciliation, dogs) WWX accidentally adopts a puppy. IIRC, he doesn't fully get over his fear. But he tries working on it, & is at least able to tolerate his own dog

Operation Barking Dog by RoseThorne (T, 20k, wangxian, JL & WWX, Fairy & MXY, WN & WWX, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, Family, Mutual Pining, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Repaying Debt, Regret, Phobias, Trauma, Memories, Tree Climbing, There Was Only One Bed, Travel, JC in Seclusion, Cynophobia, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, Flowers, Grief/Mourning, WWX in MXY's Body, Pre-Slash, Cats, Dogs, Hair Braiding)

8B)

Ice Makes Warmth by donutsweeper (G, 1k, WangXian, Carrying, Drowning, Huddling For Warmth, Snow Storm) has a brief drowning and rescue scene

Hope Dangling by a String by KouriArashi (M, 70k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives, angst w happy ending, hurt/comfort, psychic bond, telepathy, communication, emotional/psychological abuse, jiang family feels, lan family feels, canon-typical violence, canon-typical politics, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing) note -- it's a long fic & the drowning thing is a major plot point in the last quarter of the fic

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 53k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU) can't remember if lwj saves him but wwx almost drowning is a major part of this series

this storm that should not be by TheDameJudiWench (G, 6k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Drowning, Family Dynamics) also a fic where Jiang Cheng saves wwx from drowning? Not sure if requester #8 is interested. Might work for #4 as well, ymmv

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9. Hello thank you for all your hard work! Itmf fics with some quality found family similar to Come Around and Stay, The Martial Arts Instructor Fic You Didn’t Know You Needed, or if you can’t beat them, recruit them. Or with a really great sense of community, like the one fic about the a**hole dog. Modern era preferred but not necessary.

leave all your love and your longing behind by ScarlettStorm (E, 14k, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Meet-Ugly, Panic Attacks, autistic lwj, neurodivergent wwx, the neighborhood asshole dog, if you've met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the asshole dog, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation) asshole dog fic (link to podfic in #14)

Just Ask Me To Stay by mrcformoso (M, 21k, wangxian, past JZN/WWX, modern, Dancer WWX, Musician LWJ, Roommates, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Recovery, Family, Realizing Your Best Friend is the Love of Your Life, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, And LWJ is not having it, Sex as Self Worth Reaffirmation, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Domestic Fluff, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Size Queen WWX, Belly Bulge, Porn With Plot, Seriously there is a lot of plot, WWX Has Friends, LWJ Has Friends, Hurt/Comfort, A lot of comfort, Romantic Comedy, Cute, Feel-good)

🧡 Faire thee well by Scrippio (T, 77k, WangXian, ChengQing, XuanLi, 3Zun, Modern AU, Renaissance Faire, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Slow Burn)

~*~

10. Itmf fics where

A) wangxian have marital problems like fights, and B) in connection to A, in which after a big fight, wwx being heartbroken just gives up and does something big and lwj is heartbroken too.

C) books which have scenes like, something really sweet and hearty and next moment we realise that this sweetness was only for this bad , very bad thing to happen next.

10 A/B) KILF (Knits I'd Like To Fuck in) by ScarlettStorm (E, 168k, wangxian, modern, sex work, fiber arts, 2nd in series) has a pretty big fight and reconciliation (though they aren’t married) in chapters 17-18

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11. Hello! It's my first time using this blog to look for a fic. I hope I'm doing it right. I'm in the mood for a longer (at least 20k) fanfic, preferably completed but can be WIP as well. I would like an omegaverse fic where neither Wei Wuxian nor Lan Wangji are feminized. I would prefer the fic to be plot-heavy as well. I would love Wangxian to be the main pairing but I'm okay with others as well. Thank you for your hard work. @broodyelii

Coincidence is Another Man's Fate by TriviasFolly (M, 164k, wangxian, rape/non-con, modenrn, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, WangXian play the long game, UNTIL THEY DON'T, Getting Together, fated pairs, Eventual Attempted Sexual Assult and Recovery, Office au, Mpreg)

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12. Are there any fics featuring a) Fierce Corpse LWJ, or b) NMJ being kept around as a fierce corpse? I've checked the 'Fierce Corpse x' tags for those characters, but there are fewer fics than I'd expected considering how much potential those ideas have, so I'm wondering if there are other fics out there without those tags? @thispatternismine

12A)

blue skies forever Series by rikke (M, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, major character death in a necromantic way, necrophilia also in a necromantic way, canon divergence with the bad ending route, lwj is wwx’s corpse boyfriend)

12B)

A Bell That Tells Us to Rise and Fight by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (T, 120k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, SL/XXC, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Everyone Lives au, Everyone Needs A Hug, Women Being Awesome, WQ is a goddess, content warning for JGS, content warning for XY, content warning for JGY, WWX's terrible awful brilliant plans, Yunmeng Bros, JYL is an angel, BAMF Women, I take it back NMJ still dies, Minor Character Death, NMJ is BACK and he is NOT HAPPY, MM is not paid enough for this shit)

~*~

13. for the next itmf, i was wondering what are some of the best, most gut wrenching, golden core reveal fics you have ever read? it can be the main focus of the fic or one moment in a long multi chapter but the reveal is a huge part and is beautifully written? hopefully with a happy ending but anything dramatic is appreciated. thanks in advance.

we’re starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, wangxian, JC & WWX, time travel, canon divergence, implied/referenced suicide, golden core reveal, hurt/comfort, angst, starvation, self harm, cannibalism, amputation, sunshot campaign) I like how the core transfer reveal hits in this fic

golden as they come (but he's bleeding out) by Shializaro (T, 14k, WIP, WangXian, Poisoning, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Pre-Phoenix Mountain Hunt, references to canibalism, POV LWJ) read their works they make me cry

A Mother’s Love by FirefliesNLightningBugs (M, 170k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Mostly combo of the Untamed and MoDaoZuShi timelines, Unreliable Narrator, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Miscommunication, Family Feels, Found Family, PTSD, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Political Intrigue, Mystery, POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Strong Female Characters, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Good Brother In Law JZX, Genderbent WWX, Intersex WWX, not a/b/o, POV Original Character, Expanded Universe, Unplanned Pregnancy, Golden Core Reveal, WWX Has No Golden Core, Cultivation Sect Politics, Bisexual WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Pining WangXian, Parent-Child Relationship, Getting Together, Protective Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect, MXY Lives) Happens in first few chapters. And a focus on the Jiang siblings' relationship is a continuing theme throughout the fic

~*~

14. In the mood for some good new podfics!

[Cold Read Podfic] leave all your love and your longing behind by Rionaa (E, 10-15 hrs, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Meet-Ugly, Panic Attacks, autistic lwj, neurodivergent wwx, the neighborhood asshole dog, if you've met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the asshole dog, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation) (link to fic in #9)

Teen Project to Change the world (PODFIC) by animeloverhomura, sandradaffodils (Not Rated, 1-1.5/1.5-2 hrs, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Watching the Show, With a bit of the Manhua and Book thrown in, Characters Watching Their Series, characters watching the future, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, jgs is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, Disturbing Fluff)

[Podfic] lovely thorns and singing crows by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona) (E, 4-4.5 hrs, WangXian, Modern AU, Addams Family Vibes, meet cute at a funeral, Madam Lán Lives, Light Horror, Curses, Possession, Fluff and Humor, Developing Relationship, Found Family, Weirdo4weirdo wangxian, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Audio Format: Streaming, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Download, Audio Format: M4B)

[PODFIC] this humble fox by lostsometime (T, 3-3.5 hrs, WangXian, XiYao, ChengSang, SongXiaoXue, MingSu, Canon Divergence, Creatures & Monsters, Fox Spirit WWX, Minor Character Death, Espionage, Sunshot Campaign, Scheming JGY, Scheming NHS, little dogs for nhs, Slow Romance, War, Happy Ending, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies)

[Podfic] kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by contributor-sky (deepestbluesky), esbielle was also here (esbielle), glittercracker, GodOfLaundryBaskets, jellyfishfire, kisahawklin, Koontyme, Rionaa, semperfiona (T, 7-10 hrs, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

[Podfic] decay by zaffre (G, 1.5-2 hrs, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, big sister wq, warnings for wwx's typical level of self-care, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort)

The Martial Arts Instructor Fic You Didn't Know You Needed [PODFIC] by enbysaurus_chats (enbysaurus_rex), enbysaurus_rex (M, Over 20 hrs, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Martial Arts, Accurate Martial Arts, Not Canon Compliant, WWX Has ADHD, Autistic LWJ, Mutual Pining, WWX being cute with kids, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Trans WWX, Trans WN, Trans JC, Trans OYZZ, PTSD, Slow Burn, BAMF WN, Aro WN, Queerplatonic Relationships, Chronic Illness, Polyamory Negotiations, Found Family, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Tags at the beginning of each chapter)

[Podfic] Take Some Advice Paesano by jennisaisquoi (M, 45-60m, WangXian, Modern AU, Mob, Mafia AU - Clown Version, Humor, Mistaken Identity, Getting Together)

~*~

15. Itmf fics w/ a similar premise to "Cleaning & Courtship" by Winxhelina on ao3. Where being a servant in a cultivation household is actually a specialized skill cause you can't damage spiritual tools or accidentally unleash curses while doing the dusting. But its a high demand w/ low supply & snotty rich cultivators.

~*~

16. Itmf fics where the wen take on wei wuxian's name, esp as a way to hide

only the dead (have seen the end of war) by comforting_monachopsis (T, 42k, WangXian, XuanLi, Temporary Amnesia, BAMF WWX, Sad LWJ, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Mild Gore, Medical Inaccuracies, Poetry, Secret Identity, Loss of Identity, Identity Porn, The Science of Cultivation, Good Older Sibling LXC, Good Older Sibling NMJ, Good Older Sibling WWX, NMJ is a Himbo, NHS Ships It, NHS is a Crafty Bitch, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Angst and Humor, Crossdressing, WWX is Bad at Feelings) It’s brief but they do in comforting_monachopsis’ only the dead (have seen the end of war) Also, check out the YilingWei Sect tag, because that tends to happen a lot in there

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 88k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

🧡 Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WangXian, WWX & WQ & WN, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Angst, Not JC Friendly, BAMF WWX)

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17. Itmf fic where wwx has another pseudonym and reputation that's fairly well known, but isn't associated with him. Kinda secret identity fics

The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication) when I say I dug through 23 pages of my history for this one…

❤️ By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal, Polski Translation Pod każdym innym imieniem by tehanu, [PODFIC] By Any Other Name by sakizar) in which WWX hides his resurrection with a new ID courtesy of Jiang Cheng

Rest is Revolution Series by MarbleGlove (G/T, 32k, XuanLi, WangXian, Fix-It, Post-Sunshot Campaign, this might be crack, Niè Cultivation, BAMF NHS, BAMF JYL, Canon Divergence, Madam Lán Backstory, Getting Together) I’m joking but Rest is Revolution series by MarbleGlove is a bit like that

only the dead (have seen the end of war) by comforting_monachopsis (T, 42k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, temporary amnesia, BAMF WWX, sad LWJ, grief/mourning, loneliness, mild gore, secret identity, loss of identity, identity porn, angst, humor, crossdressing)

travelers through the empty gate by stiltonbasket (M, 99k, WIP, WangXian, Royalty, Emperor WWX, Mistaken Identity, Poor LWJ, Bookshop owner LWJ, Intrigue, Court Drama, Forced Marriage, Confused WWX, POV Alternating, Parenthood, Misunderstandings, Empress LWJ, Requited Unrequited Love, Fluff, Humor, Married Life, Angst with a Happy Ending)

the devil's resting place by fuckingspacequeen (M, 27k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Canonical Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Sentient Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC & LWJ Friendship, POV LWJ, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly)

Wei Wuxian, Who’s That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels)

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