#possibly the most compelling friendship in fiction

[dongslinger--420]

BoJack Horseman and Diane Nguyen (BoJack Horseman, 2014-2020)

@valtsv / for good - wicked / @dykeyphantom / @adampvrrish / mockingjay - suzanne collins / writer in the dark - lorde / mr blue - catherine feeny

[ophelia-writes-fics]

i like when you get mad (i guess i'm pretty glad that you're alone) [kilgrave x reader - 18+]

You're a dancer at a club, and your shift just took a weird turn.

Tags (please read!): fem!reader, degradation, some mild praise, spanking, oral sex, face-fucking, cum swallowing, penetration, choking, erotic asphyxiation, unsafe/unprotected sex, face slapping, clit slapping, masochism (reader), sadism (kilgrave), humiliation, biting, scratching, bruising, some minor blood, threats, condescension, painplay, pain kink, minor bondage, edging, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, mind control, mention of voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight dacryphilia, overstimulation, hair pulling, posessiveness

Word count: ~7.7k

CWs/TWs:

super dubious consent (reader likes him and consents to everything/is into the things they're doing without being compelled to, but some orders are given that can't be resisted and it's not pre-negotiated, so proceed with caution)

un-negotiated kink and unsafe choking/breathplay (i know you guys know but please don't choke anyone like this and please ask for consent in general but especially with kinks)

it's kilgrave. he's a walking red flag.

i'm not condoning anything irl, but this is fiction and i'm a kinky bitch, so i'm sexualizing this absolute maniac and i am having a lot of fun doing it lmao

You were leaning against the bar, scanning the crowd as you took your first shot of the shift. It was Friday night, with most of the crowd being well-dressed men who looked like they’d just finished with a long day of work, which meant you’d be going home with enough tips to pay your rent early. 

The most eager members of the crowd were seated near the stage, where your friend had them utterly captivated with an elaborate pole routine, so you began to search the back of the house for customers who might want something more private. A group of college girls already drunk off Red Bull and vodka, cheering and shouting compliments at the dancers with the kind of unbridled joy and solidarity that only drunk girls can summon…a man who’d clearly been dragged there by his friends, his eyes glued to his phone, his blush visible even in the dimly lit club…a bouncer pulling a particularly belligerent customer towards the door…

There. On the other side of the room was a tall, sharp-featured man in a dark purple suit, sitting alone, looking thoroughly bored with the performance onstage, glancing over at you every now and again with what appeared to be a look of interest. Perfect. 

You quickly ran a hand through your hair, took a deep breath, and plastered on your most winningly seductive smile before strolling towards him with as much ease as you could muster in six-inch stilettos. 

“Hello there, love,” you purred, leaning forward against the table he was seated at. “Is there anything I can do for you tonight?” 

You thought you’d gotten every possible response to that question before. You’d seen everything from polite rejection to aggressive groping to desperate requests for friendship or conversation, but what you’d never experienced and certainly weren’t expecting was a glance up and down your body followed by a discontented sigh and a slight frown, then a “Fine. You’ll do.” 

You opened your mouth to tell the stranger off, but before you could, he held up a finger to silence you, then leaned in closer. 

“Take me to your most secluded room. Don’t ask any questions, don’t stop to talk to anyone. Go.” 

Your head immediately began to spin. Your brain felt cloudy, as if someone had swept every thought from your mind and replaced them with a thick, impenetrable fog. Before you could try to shake the feeling away, your body was already moving, walking briskly towards the back of the club, seemingly completely independently of your own will. Get to a private room echoed over and over, clouding all the other thoughts that you were desperately trying to muster. You felt wrong, like a puppet with your limbs being jerked around by some unseen controller, no free will of your own to be found. No, not a puppet, your mind vaguely registered. A doll. 

You heard one of your friends calling you, asking something or maybe just saying hello, but when you tried to turn your head to respond, don’t stop to talk to anyone pierced your skull like a shard of ice, ringing in your ears like an intrusive thought. You didn’t stop walking even for a second. You didn’t even look at your friend. Something was very, very wrong. 

Your stomach was in knots by the time you got to an empty room, your heart racing against your ribcage like a trapped bird against a windowpane. You leaned against the wall, trying desperately to steady yourself as the strange man followed you inside. 

“Lock the door,” he ordered with a dismissive wave of his hand. The door was closed and bolted shut before you even realized you’d moved. 

You tried to say, or even think What did you do to me? But the same cold, cloudy pain overtook your head. Don’t ask questions. You shut your eyes tightly and clenched your fist as your body swayed, shaken by the unfamiliar sensation, feeling your breath grow shallow with panic. When your vision refocused, you stared at the stranger, who was tossing his suit jacket aside, reclined lazily on the couch like he hadn’t a care in the world. He fixed you with an annoyed look. 

“God, don’t grimace like that. The least you could do is give me a smile.”

Your face rearranged itself into the same winning, seductively charming smile you’d had on earlier, but you could tell that your eyes weren’t engaged. He didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he didn’t seem to have noticed your fear at all, grinning back at you like the devil himself. 

“That’s more like it. Now, kneel for me. Arms by your sides, hands in your lap, chin up. There you are.” His smile widened as he watched your body automatically follow his orders. 

He stood up and began to pace in a slow circle around you. You felt his dark eyes piercing you, evaluating you, examining your body for any minor flaw or imperfection, even though your vision remained fixed straight ahead and your smile remained in place. The carpet dug into your knees, your stiletto heels stabbing the backs of your thighs. But still, you knelt, unmoving and obedient as he stroked your hair like you were a well-behaved pet. 

It felt good, you thought, feeling a knot in your stomach form at the realization. He was incredibly handsome, with fingers as long and slender as the rest of him. You might have invited him back here on your own even if he hadn’t performed what you were growing more and more sure of was mind control. The thought made your blood run cold, but at the same time, you could still feel how red your face was under his gaze. 

Your pulse quickened as he moved back around to face you, still with that same analytical stare. His eyes lingered on your chest as he bent down slightly, moving his hand to caress the side of your face. His thumb brushed your lower lip, still frozen in place from where he had ordered you to smile. 

“Open your mouth,” he said, and you obeyed, with another rush of arousal immediately followed by shame. He pressed his finger against your tongue, eyebrows raising as you moaned at the touch. 

He pressed harder, still keeping his hand firmly on your jaw. “You like this, don’t you? Tell me the truth, don’t hold back.” His voice was low, his tone vaguely threatening in a way you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded, mouth still agape. Your face flushed at the eagerness of your response, the embarrassment at finding pleasure in being controlled so thoroughly sinking deeper and deeper into you. You’d never felt anything like it, and the adrenaline from the initial terror of being manipulated was quickly turning into an aphrodisiac when combined with your attraction to him. 

He scoffed - a short, mocking laugh. “My god,” he grinned, straightening up. “Then you can consider yourself a very, very lucky girl.” The swell of pride in your chest wasn’t at all hindered by the way his tone darkened; you couldn’t even tell if you were genuinely delighted at having impressed him or if you were just following his orders and “considering yourself lucky.” From the way your brain clouded over and the way your cunt tightened onto nothing, it might have been both. You groaned slightly at the feeling, then quickly bit down on your lip to try and suppress the sound. 

If he noticed, he gave no outward expression. Instead, he reclined back onto the couch, his legs falling open slightly, and he beckoned you forward with a wave of his hand. 

“Come here. You can kneel at my feet where you belong.” The way he said it was so light, so casual that you could tell he wasn’t trying to be dominant or turn you on. He just genuinely believed it. God, the ego on him. Still, you started to climb to your feet to walk over. 

However, before you could even stand all the way up, he raised a hand to stop you. “Ah-ah-ah. No, none of that. You can crawl. You look ridiculous walking around in those shoes anyway.” 

You collapsed back to your knees, cringing slightly at the bruises you knew you would have tomorrow as you crawled towards him. 

“Good girl, so you do know your place,” he said, his tone taking on a thick layer of condescension as he patted your head. “Tell me, how often do you sleep with your clients here?” He barely even looked at you as he asked, staring off into the distance as if you were boring him. 

“Never,” you replied immediately. 

“Never?” He raised his eyebrows, sparing you a quick, scrutinizing glance. “Then what exactly do you do in little rooms like these?” 

“Private stripteases. Lap dances. I let some touch me if they pay me enough,” you answered truthfully, realizing only after you’d spoken that he hadn’t ordered you to do so. You prayed silently that your answer was good enough. A voice in the back of your head questioned why you were so desperate for his approval, but it was quickly overcome by another wave of lust. 

Despite the work you did, it had been far, far too long since you’d been fucked, especially by a man as pretty as the one seated in front of you. And as much as you hated to admit it even to yourself, whatever power he had was one that you desperately wanted him to use on you. You’d never been so scared or so turned on in your life, and your deep masochistic streak was begging for more. 

The man snapped his thin fingers an inch away from your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. You blinked hard, realizing you hadn’t heard a single thing he said since you answered his last question. 

“Hey,” he reprimanded sharply, punctuated with a hard slap to the side of your face. “Snap out of it. God, what’s the point of sitting around here with you if you’re not even going to listen?” 

“No, wait, I’m sorry, I just—“ 

He cut you off with a disgusted roll of his eyes. “Don’t grovel. If you’re sorry, find a way to make it up to me.” 

You swallowed hard, nodding your head, mind racing. Your eyes flicked down to his lap, then back up to his face. 

“May I…well…I mean, would you like me to…” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself for how timid you sounded. 

“What? Spit it out,” he snapped. 

“Can I please suck your dick, please?” The request was out of your mouth before you even had time to process it. 

He laughed again, the same sharp mocking laugh he’d given you earlier, fixing you with a self-satisfied smile. “Oh, you really are desperate, aren’t you? Fine. Hurry up and start. Make it good.” 

Of course, you followed his orders. The ice-cold feeling that came with trying to resist felt entirely foreign to you now, and the brain fog that set over you whenever he gave a command barely had time to take hold before you obeyed. 

You started slowly, gently licking the tip of his dick before gradually working your way down, letting your mouth adjust to the length, pressing your tongue against him as you gently bobbed your head. 

While you were still struggling to take even half of his dick in your mouth, he roughly grabbed your hair, and without warning, shoved your head down to the base of his cock. 

You choked hard, tears immediately streaming down your face, but you couldn’t get even a second of relief with the way he held you firmly in place. You took a deep breath in through your nose, but the air was immediately knocked from your lungs as he pulled your head back, then shoved you back down, thrusting forcefully into the back of your throat. You gave a stifled cry and frantically grasped at his leg, trying to get leverage to break away, but you felt him slap your hand away before pinning it against the couch cushion. 

“You can take it. You want to impress me, don’t you? Stop struggling and let me fuck your throat.”

Your body went limp, all reflexes to break away and gasp for air vanishing in an instant. You could feel yourself choking, your face dripping with spit and tears, but you didn’t care. Both his hands were twisted in your hair, pulling hard, shoving your mouth onto his cock over and over again like you were a toy. You moaned desperately, half from pain and half from delirious pleasure. After what felt like ages, he ripped you away, forcing you to look into his dark eyes.

“Put some fucking effort into it,” he hissed, releasing your hair from his wrenching grasp. “Show me why I shouldn’t get rid of you right now.” 

You immediately set to work, taking as much of him as you could in your mouth and stroking what you couldn’t take with your right hand. You didn’t know what “getting rid of you” would entail. You didn’t doubt for a second that he could kill you. You felt briefly concerned that this didn’t turn you off in the slightest before your thoughts were pulled back to the task at hand. 

You sucked hard, running your tongue against the most sensitive places you knew of, gently teasing him, just enough to hopefully make him feel as desperate as you did. Your efforts were immediately rewarded with a low moan that became an almost feral growl, feeling him thrust upward involuntarily. You doubled down, relishing in every sound you could draw from him. 

He exhaled sharply when you pulled back, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock and flicking your tongue, tasting the pre-cum that dripped from him. He reached out, hand tangling in your hair again, but not quite as hard as before. 

“Right there,” he sighed, holding your head in place, eyes shut tightly. “Fuck, there you go, right there, just like that, harder…oh, god, what a good fucking girl you are…” As you felt him get closer and closer, listening to the way he moaned for you, you felt yourself grow hot all over, more and more desperate to feel him let go, to cum down your throat.

 You whined sharply, pushing even further, your body aching all over with unfulfilled desire. You took every single inch of him, swallowing hard around his cock, pressing your nose to his stomach, ignoring the way your throat tightened and instead focusing on how badly you wanted him, how terribly you wanted to impress him…

Your efforts paid off immediately when he forcibly pinned you where you were, grabbing your hair as he came with a rough, broken shout, his cum hitting the back of your throat. 

After what felt like ages, you felt him collapse backward against the couch cushions. You pulled away, quickly swallowing the mouthful you’d accumulated, then opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to show him how well you’d taken it. 

He softly laughed, peering at you with a slightly unfocused look before closing his eyes again, still on cloud nine, chest rising and falling quickly as the overwhelming pleasure slowly subsided. 

You leaned your head against his inner thigh, gazing up at him with a lovestruck stare. He looked so vulnerable like this, open and overwhelmed with all the sensations flooding him, a slight smile on his lips.

 A man with all the power in the world, everything he could ever want only a few words away, everyone wrapped around his little finger, and yet here he was, your head between his legs, absolutely radiant in the afterglow of his orgasm. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. 

He really is cute, you thought, even if he is terrifying. You examined his face carefully, taking in every detail — his sharp cheekbones, his thin nose, his dark eyelashes, the soft pink of his lips, the curve of his jawline and neck. There was something almost delicate about him, hidden by how deeply intimidating he was, and you hadn’t noticed it until now. He was just…well, he was just so pretty. There was just no other word for it, even now (or maybe especially now) that his sophisticated appearance was ruffled. His hair, once perfectly combed, was messy, a few dark strands falling into his eyes. His pristine suit was wrinkled, jacket long discarded, his tie partially undone, his shirtsleeves hastily rolled up, his belt and pants unfastened, and to top it all off, his gorgeous cock resting against his stomach, still half-hard. He was a fucking vision. You could have stared at him for ages. 

You gently tapped his leg to get his attention. “You know, I don’t actually think I caught your name,” you said, batting your eyelashes a bit. Your smile faded when you were met with a cold silence. He shook his head, straightening up and brushing his hair back into place. 

“You don’t need to know my name,” he snapped, all the bliss from a moment ago having vanished as he pushed you aside, readjusting his clothes. 

You sat back, thoroughly dejected. You had thought you’d done well. You wanted to make him feel good, and you had, but it wasn’t enough. You shouldn’t have felt like this about one of your clients, but you’d never met anyone else like him, and you wanted more. 

Your heart sped up as he reached for his jacket. Gathering his things meant he would leave, and an impulse deep inside you was yelling at you to do something. This wasn’t a job anymore, you needed him. He’d gotten you in the palm of his hand, desperate and wanting, and now that you had done what he wanted, he was acting like you were invisible. You weren’t going to let things go that easily. 

You pulled yourself up onto the couch, ignoring the ache in your knees and the pain on the backs of your thighs where your high heels had dug into your skin. Before he could react, you climbed onto his lap, facing him, arms around his shoulders. You’d never broken your “no kissing clients” rule, but that rule was the furthest thing from your mind as you leaned in for a kiss, pressing your lips firmly against his. 

With your eyes closed tightly, you barely even realized he had shoved you away until you landed on your back against the leather of the couch. Your eyes snapped open, finding the man standing before you, with a look on his face that was a mix of anger and bewilderment and something else you couldn’t quite place. He opened his mouth as if preparing to ask you something, but he closed it again, turning away from you. You bit your lip as he paced slowly, his hand over his eyes. Had you read the situation wrong? Was he ashamed that he’d come back here with you? Did he not like being kissed? Had you come on too strong? Was it over the line? 

Your heart skipped a beat as he stopped, focusing fully on you. You felt cornered, like a prey animal about to be devoured. He looked angry, vengeful, his already dark eyes completely devoid of light as he approached you. 

“Strip, then bend over the couch, facing the wall. Now.” 

Chills ran down your spine as you quickly undressed. You hadn’t been wearing much before, but naked, you felt completely exposed under his cold glare. You reluctantly turned away, the brain fog coming back like a tidal wave in response to your slight resistance, and you bent over, just like he’d told you to do. You could feel yourself shaking, terrified at the idea of what he would do to you, but with a hint of anticipation that kept you from falling off the edge into panic. 

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to ground yourself in the brief moments of silence, waiting for whatever would come next, but they shot open as soon as you felt the sharp, unmistakable shock of his belt whipping you across the backs of your thighs at full force. 

You cried out involuntarily, from shock and from the stinging, nearly unbearable pain. You hadn’t even had time to compose yourself when the second hit came, the pain intensifying as he struck the same place even harder. Your skin burned and you felt your eyes well up with tears, but you could feel the heat of arousal inside you growing, your masochistic side alight with pleasure. You wanted more. 

“Fuck!” you gasped as he landed a series of quick, searing lashes across your thighs and ass. Your nails dug into the couch as you bit your lip, trying to stifle a scream as the metal buckle whipped into your skin. Your head spun. It stung, so badly you could barely take it, but it felt fucking incredible, endorphins and adrenaline coursing through your body, making every sensation electric as he kept going, relentlessly striking you over and over again. 

You were granted a temporary reprieve when he leaned in close to your ear, running his fingernails down your back, hard enough that you knew there would be marks tomorrow. 

“Don’t even think about holding back,” he hissed, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I want everyone outside this room to hear you scream for mercy, and I want everyone to know you’re not going to get it.” 

Immediately he resumed his punishment, the sound of the belt hitting you again and again echoing off the walls. Your body instinctively followed his orders and you felt yourself cry out involuntarily, a broken sound halfway between a gasp and a yell. You barely even registered it as your own voice. 

Thwack. 

A particularly brutal hit made you cry out, arching your back in a desperate attempt to ease the pain. 

“Fuck, please…” you begged, feeling like you were on the verge of fainting. 

“‘Please’ what?”

Thwack. 

Thwack. 

The ice cold feeling shot through your brain like a lightning strike. Beg for mercy. Scream for it. You desperately wanted to, but at the same time…

“Harder, fuck, please, harder!” 

The words were out of your mouth before you even realized you’d spoken them. Immediately, the room fell silent. You gasped for air, still reeling from the searing pain and the frigid ache of trying to resist him. 

He took hold of your hair without warning, yanking your head around to look at him. 

“Repeat that,” he snapped. 

“I— I want it harder,” you panted, trying to force your blurred vision to focus. 

A long, tense pause. 

“You like this.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes, god, yes.” 

“Of fucking course you do.” 

He grabbed you, turning you around forcefully so that you were facing him, then without warning, his hands were wrapped around your neck, so tightly that you couldn’t even take a moment to breathe in, your windpipe fully constricted.  

“I bet you like this too, don’t you?” he muttered through gritted teeth. 

You nodded desperately, as best you could with your neck being held firmly in place. 

“Listen to me,” he growled. “You live and die by my orders. You have no other purpose but to please me, do you understand? Just look at you. I could do anything to you and you would love it. You get off on being whipped, you get off on being choked half to death…I could beat you senseless and you would cum from it.” 

You moaned in ecstasy, but it came out as barely a whimper. You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, your vision going dark around the edges as his fingers dug into your neck. 

“I’m going to do whatever I want to you. That’s all you’re good for. Do you understand?”

You tried to answer, but you couldn’t move. Your head was pounding, your throat feeling like it was about to be crushed. You saw stars, multicolored lights popping in and out of your vision. The darkness around the edges was rapidly expanding, bleeding further and further into your line of sight until you couldn’t see at all. 

At the last possible moment, before you could feel yourself slip over the edge into unconsciousness, he let go, dropping your limp body and watching you gasp for air, coughing and retching as you struggled to breathe in after being deprived of oxygen for so long. 

“Pathetic,” he scoffed, glaring down at you like you were nothing more than dust. 

You lowered your head, thoroughly humiliated, pressing your forehead against your knees as you gulped in mouthful after mouthful of oxygen, mind racing. He could have killed you. He could have choked you to death without a second thought and you wouldn’t have been able to stop him, you told yourself, but still, in the deepest parts of your mind, the danger thrilled you. 

You needed him to touch you, to hurt you, to ruin you. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you, and the thought made your stomach ache with terror as much as it turned you on. 

He caressed your hair in a way that would have almost seemed tender if he hadn’t just strangled you half to death. You looked up slightly, and he tilted your chin up so you were face to face. He moved your head slightly to one side, then the other, examining you carefully, and smiled with a sick satisfaction. 

“You’ll have bruises on your neck for a week,” he praised with a slap to your cheek. You moaned softly at the impact, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling. 

He bent down, picking you up ever so slightly to rearrange your body in the position he wanted, laying you down and spreading your legs. You could see from your position how hard he was. Your pain had turned him on as much as it had done to you. 

You stared up at him as he admired his work, stroking his cock as he gazed at the bruises and welts and scratches he’d left on your skin.  

“Come here,” you pleaded, your voice still raw and hoarse from being choked, spreading your legs further. 

He was immediately on top of you, his thin hips pressed against yours, hands wrapped tightly around your wrists. “Don’t you dare give me orders,” he spat, but despite the venom behind it, you could tell from the way his hips rubbed against you that he was as desperate as you were. You felt his cock brush against your clit as he bit down hard on your neck, surely adding yet another bruise to the collection you’d accumulated. 

You bit your lip, wanting him to just stop teasing, to hurry up and fuck your brains out, but as you were considering whether or not to try and resist his don’t give orders command, you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance. You’d known it was big, your aching throat was doing an excellent job at reminding you of that, but you still couldn’t stifle a gasp at the feeling. It was just a whole different experience like this. 

The beautiful man above you gave you a look that sent chills down your spine. 

“You want it,” he whispered, leaning in so close he could have kissed you. 

You nodded eagerly, fixing him with a pleading gaze. You hadn’t needed the command in the slightest. 

“Beg.” 

“Please…” you whined, your nails digging into your palms as you clenched your hands into fists, struggling to keep still. “Please, please…”

“Not good enough. Beg harder.” You had no idea how he managed to sound thoroughly indifferent, even while he was this hard.

Your already racing heartbeat quickened. “Please, I’m begging you, fuck me, take me, ruin me, do anything you want to me, I —fuck— I need it, I need it so badly, please, I’ll do anything…”

That same sadistic, terrifying little smile crept across his face. “Anything?” 

“Yes, anything, just please, god, fuck me!” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, before roughly thrusting into you, as deep as he could possibly get, without giving you so much as a second to adjust. 

You couldn’t even try to hold back a scream, and he had the nerve to laugh in your face as he slapped his hand over your mouth. 

“Oh, careful, don’t shout like that! They’ll think I’m doing something horrible to you in here,” he grinned, punctuating his words with hard, deep strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside you. “It sounds like you’re in absolute agony. But we both know better than that, don’t we?”

He picked up the pace, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to fuck you deeper than you’d thought possible. 

“You know, I really thought that you’d put up a little more of a fight,” he continued, almost nonchalant despite the grin on his face and the vicious pounding he was giving your sensitive cunt. “I thought I’d have to order you to get off on the pain, or that I’d have to bash your pretty head against the wall to get you to listen. But I got lucky, didn’t I? I just happened to come across the most disgusting, most depraved little whore in the city, so eager and willing to listen, to take whatever I give you.” 

The hand that wasn’t keeping you quiet brushed against a sensitive spot on your inner thigh and you all but melted, whimpering with pleasure underneath him as he fucked you harder. 

“Oh, that’s it, let me hear you moan,” he said, throwing his head back with a growl, pulling his hand away from your mouth. “You don’t care who hears, do you? I bet you like it. I bet you love knowing that all your little friends and all your clients are hearing you get your pretty cunt ruined by a complete stranger, don’t you? You like them knowing that I hit you and choked you and you still let me fuck you like this. You just love that everyone knows that you get off on me hurting you, that everyone knows you’re just a desperate slut for pain.” He punctuated the last word with a hard, backhanded slap across your face. 

You nodded frantically, moaning your assent, hands grasping at his arms, holding on for dear life as he completely wrecked you. You felt him grin as he leaned in to bite your neck, his tongue darting over your sensitive skin as he did so. 

Your hand wandered, finding its way to his dark hair, and you couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingers through it, pulling ever so slightly, not wanting to risk his wrath again but unable to resist the temptation. Your eyes widened with surprise when he gasped and moaned, his teeth temporarily leaving your neck before he recovered and bit you again, much harder, this time on a sensitive spot just below your jaw that made you cry out. When he was satisfied with the mark he’d left, he broke away. 

“You know what would be fun?” he teased, his tone menacing as he roughly grabbed your breast. You shook your head, unable to take your eyes off him. “I’d just love to see what it would be like if you weren’t such an easy little slut.” He paused, running his hand up your body, admiring the marks he’d left with a self-satisfied look. 

“Put up a fight for me. That way, I can show you exactly how filthy whores like you deserve to be treated.” He sat up, his fingers clutching your hips so hard that you knew they’d leave even more bruises on your already aching body, never once faltering in his steady pace. 

You flew into action immediately, frantically trying to push him away, trying to kick hard enough to get him off of you, despite the fact that your body was still aching for more. He laughed, a quick cruel sound, almost surprised by how readily you threw yourself into the role of his struggling victim, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down above your head without missing a beat, leaving you even more helpless than you already were. 

You moaned, feeling the way his dick throbbed inside you when you struggled harder, trying in vain to remove yourself from his grasp. Fucking sadist. You thrashed harder, your body still reflexively following his orders, but to no avail; he had you completely pinned in place. 

Almost without realizing you were doing so, you jerked your head upward, biting the exposed skin between his neck and shoulder and digging your teeth in hard, barely even noticing how fiercely you had latched onto him until you tasted blood. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, letting go of your wrists, hands immediately moving to grab your shoulders.  You let go with a sharp inhale the moment you realized what you’d done, horrified at your own actions. He roughly shoved you down, forcing your mouth away, still fucking you harder than you thought possible. 

“God, I should fucking kill you for that, I really, really should,” he growled. He turned his head slightly to look at the bite you’d left, scowling when he saw the blood beginning to seep into the collar of his shirt. He let go of one of your shoulders to grab your chin, forcing you to stare at the damage you’d caused. 

“Look at what you did,” he spat through gritted teeth, with a wild, almost manic look in his eyes. “You think you have the right to do that? The right to defile me like that after I’ve taken such good care of you? Answer me.” 

You bit your tongue, wanting to point out that ‘taking good care of you’ had involved beating you black and blue with a belt, choking you half to death with his dick, and then strangling you until you were nearly unconscious. Sure, you’d enjoyed all of it, but still. 

“Answer me,” he repeated, harsher this time. “Or I swear to god I’ll kill you.” 

“You told me to fight back!” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, pettiness entering your voice despite the murderous look in his eyes that made it very clear he had been expecting you to beg for forgiveness. 

He stopped moving completely. He was still all the way inside you, and you could barely stop yourself from grinding your hips against him to try and get yourself off, but you didn’t dare move. The hand that had been gripping your jaw released, moving upward to pat your cheek gently. 

“I did tell you to fight back, didn’t I?” He was mocking you, his tone sickly sweet and condescending, like you were a particularly petulant child that he was trying to discipline. Against your better judgment, or maybe just to see what he’d do about it, you nodded. 

Before you could even realize what was happening, you were in terrible pain, a pain that knocked the air out of your lungs, your eyes immediately streaming with tears from the impact. 

It took you a moment to process that he had just punched you in the face as hard as he possibly could. 

You instinctively doubled over, curling into a ball, body and mind reeling from the blow. Your ears were ringing, your vision clouded over. It felt like your brain had been shaken vigorously inside your skull, nausea welling up inside you at the sensation, all of it so severe you were afraid you might faint.

In your dazed state, you could barely absorb what he was saying to you, only catching snippets here and there: “...didn’t fucking tell you to ruin my shirt…going to show you…disgusting girls like you…”

You felt something being wrapped around your wrists as he manhandled you so that your arms were above your head. He’d bound you up with his tie, you realized, feeling the delicate silk against your aching skin. You opened your eyes as you felt his hands on your ankles, roughly pulling you so that you were lying with your legs spread for him. There was, you observed as your vision refocused, a decent bit of blood on the collar and shoulder of his shirt, a stain that you were positive would never come out. What a shame. Probably a designer shirt, too. Must have been expensive. 

You were shocked back into reality by him throwing your legs over his shoulders, bending you in half, once again filling your cunt with a hard thrust. Despite the pain still throbbing behind your eyes, which was slowly receding, you were still so, so desperate for him. You’d been close when he’d stopped, and in your hypersensitive state, you could feel your pleasure building rapidly, and before long you were writhing in his arms.

“Please, don’t stop, please,” you begged, barely even processing the words that were coming out of your own mouth. “I’m so close, I need it, please, please, I need to cum, don’t stop…”

“No,” he snapped, giving you a furious glare. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You don’t get to cum. I wouldn’t have let you cum even before you bit me like a rabid animal. What makes you think you deserve it now?” His last word broke off with an involuntary groan, his pace growing erratic in a way that told you he was close to a second orgasm. He inhaled sharply, collecting himself before doubling down. “Don’t cum. No matter how close you get, hold it. Do you hear me? Do. Not. Cum.”

Despite his orders, you felt your muscles begin to tighten, your pleasure mounting in a way that normally would have sent you over the edge, but nothing happened. You physically couldn’t cum. The feeling just kept building and building, far past what you thought was your breaking point, never stopping, overwhelming you to near-madness and never giving you a moment’s relief, and you bit your lip to stifle a scream. 

“Oh, don’t try to act all pitiful now,” he growled, punctuating it with a hard slap to your already oversensitive clit that made you cry out. “You know damn well that you earned this. And if you ever try to bite me like that again, I’ll make this permanent, do you hear me?”

Your eyes flew open, widening in terror. He couldn’t do that. Could he? 

The look on his face told you that he absolutely could. 

“Oh, it’d wear off eventually,” he purred, leaning in closer as if he were about to kiss you, his fingers just barely teasing your clit, his delicate touch unbearable in your hypersensitive state. “But I could tell you not to cum, over and over and over again, and you’d have no choice not to obey. I could keep you this close for days, weeks, months, maybe years if I wanted to, and drag you around with me like a needy little pet. I could order you to follow me around, to never leave my side. I could put you on a leash. I could parade you naked all over town, let everyone see how badly you want me, even with bruises and cuts all over you.” The thought sent a painful jolt of arousal through you, your legs shaking as you tried desperately to keep yourself from moaning at the idea. He grinned at you, making it very, very clear that you were doing a terrible job at hiding it. 

“Oh, of course that turns you on. Fucking depraved, aren’t you? Are you like this for everyone you meet, or do you just want me that badly?” 

You couldn’t form a concrete thought, let alone focus hard enough to give him an answer, but you knew his monstrous ego would love it if you could. You just wanted him that badly. 

His hand wrapped around your neck, not quite enough to choke you but hard enough so that you felt the marks from when he had. “God, who would have thought that this would be so fun? Beating and fucking a pathetic little thing like you, I barely had to order you to do a thing,” he teased, panting as he fucked you faster. “I’m going to cum inside you, and you’re going to like it. Beg for it. Do it. Now.” 

“Please,” You gasped for air, voice coming out as a choked whisper. You were in agony, every inch of your body burning with pain and anticipation and need for an orgasm that kept building and just wouldn’t happen. Burning hot tears were streaming down your face; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. “Please, do it, cum inside me, I don’t care what happens, I need it, just…” 

Your pleading broke off into a desperate wail as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. Even the gentle motion, combined with every other sensation you were feeling, was absolute torture, too much for you to bear. He grinned as you pulled away, trying to escape any more stimulation. 

“Oh, god, you look so damned pathetic…oh, god, fine, do it, cum for me, I want to see you break, just do it now--” His voice cracked, his hands desperately clutching at your hair as he came inside you with a desperate moan, feeling you tighten around him, burying his face in the crook of your neck.  

Your body went completely rigid at his command and you came hard, the feeling so intense that it felt like your skin was burning all over. You were vaguely aware that you were thanking him, over and over, unable to control the words coming out of your mouth. He silenced you with a forceful kiss, the first one he’d given you all night, and you melted into his touch, thoroughly overwhelmed. 

You felt his hips twitch, still riding out the last of his orgasm as you deliriously wrapped yourself around him, clinging on for dear life, moaning with ecstasy. 

Finally, he broke away from the kiss, and your body fell limp, overstimulated past your breaking point, so much so that you vaguely wondered how you were still conscious. Your legs dropped from where he had propped them on his shoulders and you lay there, trembling like a leaf, feeling the warmth of his cum inside you. 

When you finally collected yourself enough to see straight, you worked your wrists out of the now-loose binding of his tie, then raised your head to look at the man still lying on top of you. His head had dropped onto your chest, his eyes closed. He looked so still and gentle that you wondered if he was asleep.

You reached down, stroking his hair gently with shaking hands, remembering how much he’d liked it before. You wanted to have this little moment of vulnerability with him before he went all cold and ruthless again. He sighed, pressing himself further into your bare chest and wrapping his arms around you. You couldn’t hold back a smile as pride swelled inside you. You felt like you’d tamed some kind of monster, and really, you thought to yourself, you had. You could practically feel the bliss radiating off of him along with the warmth of his skin against yours. 

You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as you gathered yourself. You were sore all over. Your muscles burned from how tight they’d been for so long, your throat ached when you swallowed, and you still had a pounding headache from the punch to your face and the way he’d choked you. Your body had already begun to bruise, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“It’s Kilgrave.” 

You looked up, vision still slightly clouded with pleasure. “Hmm?” His face was turned away, expression hidden. 

“My name. Kilgrave.” 

You grinned harder. You’d won.

“It’s pretty,” you giggled, giving his hair a playful ruffle. 

He quickly smacked your hand away, sitting up and pulling out of you with a scoff. Ah. There he was. 

“Shut up. Don’t even think about it.” 

“What?”

“You know what,” he snapped, reaching for his jacket. “Don’t play innocent now, especially not when you look like that.” 

You glanced down at your body. He had absolutely wrecked you, but your smile never faded as you looked back at him. 

He rolled his eyes, but there was no venom behind it, or at least none that you could detect. “Filthy little thing,” he muttered, re-buttoning his shirt. 

You sat up, stretching your sore muscles as he composed himself quickly. You were amazed at how he could go from looking absolutely delirious with pleasure one moment to looking like this the next, all put together and polished as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. 

“And where are you off to?” you said, glancing around the room, trying to find where he had tossed your clothes after you’d taken them off. 

“You don’t need to know that.” He walked quickly towards the door, but paused as he realized that you were still looking at him. He sighed with frustration, but still turned around to look back at you. 

“I’ll be back next week, if I decide you’re good enough for me to use again. In the meantime, don’t even think about opening your legs for anyone else, do you understand? I don’t want you catching anything and giving it to me.” His tone was bitter, but you could still sense something almost fond behind his words. “Now, once I leave, you’ll wait five minutes, then go out there and put on the best show of your life for all those sad desperate men out there, with my cum dripping down your thighs. Understand?” 

Ah, you realized. Not fondness. Possessiveness. Even better. You nodded, barely managing to suppress another proud grin. He gave you what you assumed was supposed to be a contemptful look before turning again to leave, but he might as well have given you a kiss on the forehead with how good it made you feel.

“Bye, Kilgrave,” you called as he left, giving him a playful wave. 

He looked back. He didn’t answer, but the facade slipped for just a moment as he blew you a quick kiss, and then he was gone, grinning like a man who had all the power in the world as he closed the door behind him. 

A/N: this is the first part of a series! if there's enough interest, i'll post the next parts :) Like, rb, and/or follow if you enjoyed, and thank you so much for reading!

[vegaseatsass]

Reality tv is so fucking dangerous for me because my brain still whirs as if I'm watching fictional characters but I'm NOT and I should NOT be blorbofying or armchair diagnosing these irl human beings, it's simply safer for me to never ever engage. Tl;dr my god the exes on His Man 3 have eaten my mind, I can't stop thinking about them. I won't share REAL PERSON HEADCANONS (basically: who pings as neuroatypical) but I went from thinking Myeongkyun was the most hilarious entertaining television figure I'd seen in years to being really truly gutted for him and his like, slow struggling emotional processing which makes him sooooo frustratingly opaque even though he is trying, and his fuckboy affect which is so deceptive for how confusingly deeply (but just. sloooooowly) he actually feels. Youngjoon has been my favorite contestant this entire time (well, Youngjoon and Seungjin but let's not get me started on how it feels to watch Seungjin go untreasured episode after episode) and Hanmin jumped way up there in episodes 7 and 8 too because who knew he was the absolute kindest and most supportive and emotionally intelligent person in that entire house, I'm rooting SO HARD for him and Youngjoon I think they're such a crazy good match for each other augh. So the thing I find so compelling about Myeongkyun and Youngjoon's conflict is that it's really easy for me to understand where both of them were coming from; as absolutely maddening as it is to imagine being in Youngjoon's shoes and trying with so much hyperverbal self-awareness to reach some kind of clarity and just being hit in the face again and again with Myeongkyun's blase opaqueness, I really DO think they were both trying super hard and in good faith in that exhausting conversation! It understandably didn't FEEL that way to Youngjoon, as Myeongkyun led him in circle after circle, but I'm seriously like unhinged with how much I feel for Myeongkyun rn and his visible overwhelm. When Youngjoon was about to leave and tell Myeongkyun to figure things out on his own and Myeongkyun told him it's actually easier for him !!! to sort through his feelings with him there !!!! that's such an admittance, he absolutely was trying that whole time but what comes out of his mouth is sooooooooo not intelligible and thus as infuriating as humanly possible for Youngjoon, this incredibly verbal, emotionally analytic overthinker. They're such a bad match lmao and it's so so sad that Myeongkyun just assumed their relationship was moving as slowly as his feelings do and not that he was fully ghosted dklfjslkdfja I can just see BOTH THEIR SIDES I'm almost always on the side of the person who is like "how was I supposed to know what you ghosting me meant? I kept contacting you because I just thought you were busy!" vs. the ghoster who is all ugh dude why couldn't you read the room? but if Myeongkyun has always been like this - answering a direct question with "Maybe I'm ENTJ!" or "I don't want to tell you" or munch munch munching and "mmm"-ing and blinking and never ever answering what he was actually asked - it's pretty easy to understand why Youngjoon would assume this is a guy who neither cares about nor requires direct communication of any kind.

Lol sorry I've never posted into this tag before and this is a super incoherent blur of feelings before I go offline for the next two days but I just have to get it out of my system because I don't think I've ever had a reality show change my perception of somebody as much as Myeongkyun just like. Visibly hanging on by a thread while saying all the absolute wrong things in his stupid cool guy voice. and then breaking down as soon as he was alone. did. "Dating Minseon is... a possibility" went from sounding like a half-assed non-commitment to me, to Myeongkyun very seriously working through his feelings at his regular slow slow speed, and I'm fully rooting for them as well atp.

I wish this season had more friendship and less shady secret missions because everyone is so miserable... including me, who is sitting here typing nonsense instead of posting about my safely fictional characters.

[shioritsumi]

Took me long enough to get to Bingge but he deserves his own post....

-Bingge knew the modern world would be different, but the technology is much easier for him to grasp than he'd thought and a lot of functions of daily life are simple or hardly changed at all. Society, however...it hasn't changed, exactly. Shen Tianyu talks about his divorce and Bingge has to get reminded inflicting random violence upon people isn't legal. "I'm disappointed too, man, but we both have to live with it."

-Bingge needs time to adjust to not being a demon lord and instead just being a tall muscular citizen. Blending into human society isn't something he has recent experience with, and he has to re-learn it.

-Shen Tianyu lives in a penthouse apartment, and Bingge still isn't certain if he likes having to take the elevator so often just to get in and out of the home. "Did you make your kid do this every day?" "Xiao-jiu isn't old enough for school yet, and this was my second home anyways-I stayed here when i couldn't go home since it's much closer to work. Now it's just....home, I guess. What else did you want?"

-Every time Tianyu talks about his marriage, Bingge gets sad. He managed to become demon lord of his realm, he knows what it's like to rule....but Tianyu talks about things as though despite everything he's had very little control over his own life. He loves his son but he didn't personally choose to have kids. He was "strongly encouraged" to go into business, rather than choosing it willingly. Bai Lianhua pursued him first, not the other way around. The more popular a person or competitive the market, the more easily Shen Tianyu could be compelled to join the race for it. Bai Lianhua effectively convinced him to court her by reminding him frequently lots of guys were after her but she was there with HIM.

Bingge is quick to realize this means Tianyu has done very little for himself in his own life. Which sets him about trying to seduce Tianyu in a strange complicated reasoning that he wants Tianyu to choose him of his own free will and not just because he's the all-powerful demon lord lusted over by countless women. How does one court a competitive man with crippling depression when you are the most desirable bachelor in a stallion novel?

(by the way, Tianyu likes Bingge bc he hears all his trauma and just laughs and goes 'mine is worse'. It's like his friendship with Shang Qingshui but better because Bingge knows when to stop.)

-Bingge ends up reading PIDW and is of the opinion the author has never had sex with a woman. Shang Qingshui can vouch for this, and Shen Tianyu thinks they should both think before they open their mouths.

-Bingge ends up finding all the Luo Binghe merchandise and doesn't know how to respond. "It belonged to my brother, but after he died....I dunno, it's a little like still having him around, since he cared about these things so much. My sister has the other half of his collection if you want to see it." Bingge is extra confused and he just inspects the merch because what even IS this. Some of the figures are fully sculpted in every way....EVERY way. His brother BOUGHT these? With his own money? "Well yeah, you were his favorite. I don't blame him."

-The more Bingge is told about Shen Yuan, the more confused he gets. His siblings describe him as smart, with a photographic memory, and decent looks "but he's definitely related to us". Bingge is absolutely concerned by this one. Hanjun seems to be the only sibling with his shit together properly, having started his own nutrition company and doing quite well. They're all possessed of a dark sense of humor, a sharp tongue, and a tendency to get hyperfixated on fictional characters. So what does this mean about the recently deceased Shen Yuan? "Oh come on, I bet you'd like him if you met him!" Bingge.....isn't sure of this.

-fun possible scenario popping up when Hanjun invites both Bingge and Tianyu to his wedding. Bingge swears he's not a maiden, but he definitely stresses out the most about being invited to a wedding for his boyfriend's family like they're a legit real couple and they NEED to make a good impression ("like we're a legit real couple? Bing-er, we ARE a real couple, stop stressing" "NO" ) they need to wear the right clothes, they need to bring the right gift do they need a sword because he has swords.

-Shen Jiuyuan and Bingge have to talk about it once the truth comes out to Bingge. For the longest time they aren't sure HOW to talk about it, and Jiuyuan doesn't want his new dad to know. They can't act like they don't have history, especially history as bad as it is. But this is a brand new life for Shen Jiu, and he has a father who loves and dotes on him endlessly, constantly apologizes when he's wrong and doesn't lecture him overly long when he's rude or violent. (Tianyu recalls being a difficult child himself, and currently figures the attitude and violent issues are just a result of being related to him-Shen Yuan was probably the only Shen son who didn't have a similar childhood and that was the result of having two older brothers.)

They may not necessarily like each other, but they love Tianyu, and he loves them. Over time they learn to tolerate each other and even share a few moments. Bingge is just mildly confused as to how going to a completely different world to find a new better shizun turned into karmic retribution for killing his own shizun. How did things work OUT like this?!?

-Bingge being prepared to hear about Tianyu's childhood full of soft comforts and spoiled luxury and instead he's told about a mostly ordinary upbringing because his family wanted to foster responsibility in their kids. (although they did always have good things and vacations and whatnot available) And Tianyu's stories of his childhood are most stories about being an absolute gremlin when he was a kid. "One time Hanjun had to fish me and A-Qing out of the river, alongside six other people because turns out that peg was important and i got grounded for two weeks." "I threw a snake at Qingshui's head once. We were ten, and in my defense he told my crush Mianmao i had 'snake eyes' so it was karma. He got bitten and i was suspended for a week." Tianyu just pointing to a super tall building and being like "I jumped off that when i was 15."

Turns out his new shizun was an unhinged child, and the only reason Shen Yuan wasn't is because Hanjun had already witnessed it previously and made sure Yuan didn't even have ACCESS to the most unhinged experiences Tianyu made for himself. Bingge silently wonders how he did indeed find someone to match his freak so perfectly, on ACCIDENT.

[lady-corrine]

Sorry, but I don't understand people who insist on Laena not being a second choice for Daemon... Sorry, but... she is ? He basically wanted to marry Rhaenyra first, he couldn't, and finally married Laena, whom he only saw for 2 weeks before marrying her. Is this supposed to be like a great romance ? And then, certainly, Daemon visibly appreciated Laena, she totally fit into his type of woman and above all he chose her. So obviously he liked her. (It's obvious, otherwise he would never have been able to live with her or consummate his marriage, as the case of Rhea Royce proves to us) But was he in love with her ? I can't believe that people dare to say that yes, Daemon would have been in love with Laena, when as soon as she died, well Daemon got Rhaenyra pregnant. And let's not even talk about this stupid threesome story to try to justify Aegon III's pregnancy... There is literally no proof that this threesome was romantic and sexual. Grrm has never hidden when its fictional characters were part of the lgbtq+ community, and it would have made no sense for the maesters or the Greens to deprive themselves of such a possibility of scandal in their anti-Rhaenyra propaganda. Some fucking consistency people. Yes Laena seemed like a cool person, but above all she is a SECONDARY character. Certainly, she has narrative importance because she had Vaghar, givr to Daemon his first daughters / children, and above all, she was recognized as Rhaenyra's best friend. It is especially for this part that she is remembered, her friendship with Rhaenyra. They even decided together to get their children engaged. Yet people are obsessed with constantly associating his importance with Daemon. This obsession with Laena is getting really annoying. Yes, her treatment in the series is bad, but we need to stop trying to give her a place/importance that she didn't even have in the original story. She was a cool and strong secondary character of the dance, and that all.

I basically agree with everything you stated above.

To add and expand on this, because this is a phenomenon with a very long history:

This fandom suffers greatly from not only a lack of media literacy, but of treating their own headcanons as canon. And not only that, but of actually attacking and bullying people when they don't accept said horrible headcanons — headcanons that more often than not make absolutely no sense and are nothing else but self-inserting.

In Laena's case, ever since Fire and Blood came out, you had a certain part of the fandom (Rhaenyra haters in most cases) painting Laena as this extraordinarily important character that did so many important things, that mattered so much, that akshually 🤓 was more important than Rhaenyra herself.

Of course that contained the whole "She was in fact Daemon's truest-purest-greatest love", and not that horrible harpy Rhaenyra, uGLy and FaT and whom Daemon actually despised and never loved and spent his whole marriage with her pining for his one dead love Laena and — you got my point?

Of course nothing of that is accurate in any way, shape or form. She is an irrelevant character with absolutely no personality whatsoever. Which, for her stans, makes her a perfect alternative for Rhaenyra, who is a complicated character in more ways than one, and who was absolutely despised by this fandom prior to Hotd (she still very much is, but her haters now pretend to like her to gain clout).

But this is what those stans not only wished, but actually expected to see in the show. So when that obviously did not happen, they had a whole meltdown and made their entire life purpose to obsess over said irrelevant character and bring her up whenever possible.

In any case, apart from the Rhaenyra haters that portray her as Daemon's great love or whatever, she literally does nothing as a character. She is not compelling in any way, she has no characterization, no goals, no struggles, nothing that makes a fictional character remotely interesting in any capacity. She is whatever her stans make her out to be, depending on who they hate — daemyra or rhaenicent.

If the character would not be so utterly unimportant to me, I would actually feel bad because she did have potential to be explored in interesting and complex ways. But as it is 🤷‍♀️

[aegonbeingfakeisracist]

hi!

Can you talk more about Arianne and Daemon ? Seriously they are my favorite couple I even have a headcanon that Arianne will be pregnant with Daemon I mean it's more a parallel with Asha's possible pregnancy (pairs between Martells and greyjoys) and Daemons are so fertile hahahaha (Daemon Targaryan Daemon Blackfire) even begin another family but Martin chose the same name and Daemon Sand's father has twins in addition to him...

Anyway I don't see any chance of marriage/ engagement or Arianne's love interest in Aegon it just won't be happening,I see them having a friendship relationship and a strengthening of the family bond , with Ari being a guide for his cousin ( so much potential). This is a bullshit she doesn't want to be queen but Dorne anda her father love. I just want Arianne to be able to be happy white someone who respects her and see her more than just a pretty body and face, and Daemon strikes me as perfect.

I really don't want Arianne to be pregnant because it seems to me like needless drama and just all around bad timing – she's serving as an envoy. There's a war going on. And I feel like her words to Elia kind of apply to her, as well – kiss all the boys you want when you're home in Dorne, but this is so not the time. Sure, she propositions Daemon, but she didn't actually sleep with him. Also, Arianne canonically uses moon tea for birth control. So I'm hopeful there will be no baby unless she lives to the end of the series.

But I think her relationship with Daemon is just so unique in terms of all the relationships we see in the series – they were children doing this entirely on their terms. They were the same age. They just liked each other, and so engaged in a relationship without fear over consequences.

I think in recent years, there's been a weird rise in people forgetting that tropes are tools and not fundamentally good or bad. One of the ways this manifests in particular is hating "childhood friends to lovers" or people winding up with their first love. I don't have hard stances on the kind of relationships in fiction I find interesting or boring. Mostly for me, it's contextual – what is compelling in ASOIAF to me is not the same as what's compelling in another work. And while I certainly agree that there are situations in which a childhood friends to lovers angle may be boring, I think in the ASOIAF context, Arianne and Daemon's childhood sweethearts angle is actually extremely compelling.

For a start, this isn't a people-staying-with-their-middle school-boyfriend-forever scenario. It's the fact Arianne and Daemon had a relationship, broke up, lived near a decade having separate lives with Arianne certainly having other relationships and Daemon probably also doing the same, and are potentially coming back together.

For another, I really, really like what Arianne/Daemon would mean for Arianne as a character. I've said before that she's my favourite ASOIAF character. But even outside of my own personal bias, think about the type of fics that get written about her. It's hard to identify this for certain, because AO3 tagging is just so messy, and navigating through Arianne's tag is a lost cause, but mostly, fic!Arianne is just three sliders of stupidity, horniness, and ambition. Which is just so, so not book Arianne, at all.

Arianne is unique amongst the most important female characters of ASOIAF. She's is not the heir presumptive, she's the heir apparent. Dorne will be hers. And she is a descendant of Nymeria, the most recent in a long line of rulers of Dorne. Her family is central to Dorne's cultural memory, as it was Nymeria and Mors that turned the collection of states into a unified nation. So unlike, say, the Tyrells or Freys, who determinedly pursue these grand matches in a way of compensating for their relatively recent history, Arianne...doesn't really need to do that? Like, she can just marry a bannerman and it would be totally fine.

Furthermore, Arianne clearly has more rights of refusal than most women, and she is not shy about using them - these are real rights she has. I can imagine her feeling more pressure to accept if offered a candidate that wasn't clearly a joke, but given the setting, this is true for everyone. The fact remains, Arianne has options, and since she's going to be a ruling princess, those options are broad.

But despite all of this, her marital prospects are a huge theme. Doran offers her elderly suitors. Daemon and Drey wanted to marry her. There was an entire marriage pact that no one bothered to tell her about. Arianne intends on bartering her own hand, and thinks about how whoever she weds would rule Dorne by her side.

How does all this connect to Daemon? Because he's a nobody. Okay, sure, that's a little extreme – he's a knight, the son of an important lord, and the former squire of a prince. But even though that is the case, he is still a bastard. His father has at least two legitimate children. This isn't a case like Ellaria, in which the set up makes it extremely reasonable to think that her father's land and title will one day fall to her and her daughters - Daemon will not inherit anything. Meaning if Arianne were to marry him, or even just obviously choose him as her partner without a marriage? It would be for her.

There might be some political benefits, given that Daemon is clearly on good terms with his father, but very indirectly, and not nearly to the extent that would be the case with other marital candidates. It cannot be considered anything resembling a political move. So Arianne choosing Daemon would be her taking control over her life, making the choices she wants, for her. It would be her choosing a Dornish spouse that has ties to her family beyond just her alone. It would be her in a position where she can safely choose to make her life with a person that she loves, that isn't the best political choice.

It would be her choosing someone that is deeply, fundamentally tied to Dorne - not just because he's Dornish, but because he is a bastard, because he was once a child in the Water Gardens, because he attended the feast for Balon Swann and did not drink upon the toast to Tommen. Arianne drank. Doran drank. But Daemon did not. Daemon is clearly still in love with Arianne. There is a reason their relationship was never the same after Doran rejected him for her. He loves her enough to serve as her sworn shield and beg her to allow him to go into a dangerous situation in her place. But he has his own mind, and his own beliefs, and his Dornish identity is a big part of that.

We've seen very little of Daemon. But from what we have, he sees Arianne in a way that few do. Doran didn't understand what was going on with her at all. Arys and Areo both clearly had images of her in their heads that didn't quite align with reality. But Daemon, despite their relationship having never recovered fully and despite Doran being so much like Arianne that one would really think he should understand her more than he does, gets her more than anyone else. He understands the strained relationship with Quentyn and that Arianne maybe isn't so desperate to have her little brother return. He sees bits of Arianne in Elia. He literally finishes some of her sentences.

Of all the people Arianne could ever engage in a relationship with, I think Daemon, more than any other character, represents her making her own choices and coming into her own as the ruling princess of Dorne.

[sam-loves-seb]

weely tag wednesday

thanks for the tags @energievie @metalheadmickey @deedala !

which character from any media would you like to have as a father? jed bartlet (the west wing)

if money, laws, time, and effort were no object, what animal would you want to have? probably just a cat tbh i'm not a big animal person (i think they're neat, i just don't really have the desire to own any of them)

what is your Chinese takeout order? pork fried rice and chicken fingers

what's your favourite emoji? this one: ✨

would you rather have a library, greenhouse, or home theater in your house? a home theater. a library would be sick but i read mostly ebooks so i think a theater would get more use out of me.

what childhood tv show do you think of the most fondly? Spongebob Squarepants. me and my sister used to watch this every single night with our dad when we were little, but if we wanted to stay up and watch it we had to be all ready for bed by the time it came on

what was your tumblr like when you first joined? it was a lot of reblogs of aesthetic photographs because it was 2012 and i was 14. not long after that tho it turned into a sebastian stan fan blog which is how i got my url, and over time that slowly morphed into the multi fandom madness you see today

what clothing style do you love but don't feel compelled to replicate yourself? god i don't know, my closet is a little bit of everything because i always wanna try a new style when i see it. i honestly don't think i have an answer for this one, i really do love fashion and my style is constantly changing

if you were plopped into a fictional world, which one would you know the layout of the best? i have no idea. acotar maybe? solely because i've read those books so many times? yeah i guess i'll go with that

what is your favourite piece of art? café terrace at night

do you have a water bottle? what does it look like? i have a light blue wide mouth nalgene water bottle that is covered in stickers and has two friendship bracelets dangling from the cap strap. it's giving major camp counselor vibes.

what fanfic trope is a quiet fave? look, if i go on a quiet hunt for fics tagged aftercare every now and then, that is between me and god so shut the fuck up about it

do you carry a daily bag? what does it look like? what's the weirdest thing in it? nope. i don't have an office bag bc i wfh and on the weekends i absolutely despise carrying a purse. i have one of those phone cases with card slots on the back and it holds everything i could possibly need.

if you had to ship Mickey with another Gallagher, who would it be? sexually i think it'd have to be lip, but if i could platonically ship him with someone i think i'd pick fiona. idk i just think they'd get along better than anyone would think.

what is a fanfic trope you didn't expect to like and then very much did? friends to lovers kinda snuck up on me in my adulthood. i used to be very against it as a teen, but now that i'm grown and have actually seen the trope done well in fics and in media, it's one of my favorite tropes of all time.

Do you think s11 Mickey can still carry s11 Ian? yes 100% absolutely and anyone who says otherwise is lying. (did we all see noel's s11 body? we saw the abs right? mans was ripped in the last season even tho the writers like, never showed it, and it is my personal mission to avenge this wrongdoing) i'm kidding about the lying part but yeah, he absolutely can still carry s11 ian, being able to lift his husband is the only reason he still goes to the gym

who got custody of the killing bat when they sold the house? debbie. i think carl wanted it, but he already has a gun so he gave it to debbie instead.

tagging: @suchagallabitch @gallawitchxx @callivich @michellemisfit @iansw0rld and anyone else who wants to play !

[ninja-muse]

Another month, another last-minute book review, but don't let that fool you. Infinity Gate is a winner! It's also pure Carey—compelling characters, smart world-building, themes that drive at the heart of human experience, writing and story that just don't stop.

First of all, if you've seen the blurb for this book, you probably think it's about the potential benefits of parallel worlds to one devastated by climate change, or possibly that it's about people fighting sinister AI. This is, in fact, what hooked me. It's also fairly inaccurate.

This is a story about how we define "human", that gets more into the discussions we're having about fascism and dehumanization and xenophobia, than the discussions we're having about AI, algorithms, and where "tool" becomes "crutch" or "means for layoffs". Does a person have to look like you to be seen as an equal? Do they have to act like you? Think like you? If they don't, is it okay to oppress, enslave, or murder them? If you say no but your society or government says yes, what then?

(Unsurprisingly, this is also a novel about control—who has it, who doesn't, who wants it, and why.)

But! The parallel worlds and the fights about AI are no less interesting, exciting, inventive, or important. It's clear that Carey's thought through the usual parallel-world-story premise of "if every turning point sparks a new world, then anything could happen" with more creativity and more clarity than most other authors. Yes, there's a world of civilized rabbits, but it's not a happy, cute world because no matter the species, people still have wants and fears and assumptions. Yes, an interdimensional empire would be pretty great in a lot of ways, but it's also run by, you guessed it, people.

I'm making this sound like a thinking book, not one where things happen. So let me clarify: THINGS HAPPEN. So many things. A lot of happening. There's a physicist who cracks interdimensional travel, which doesn't go as she planned. There's a guy on the fringes of society who's faced with hard choices. There's a schoolgirl, and a government bureaucrat, and a military unit, and meaningful friendships, and a prison planet. There's a conspiracy that maybe isn't, and a conspiracy that definitely is, and a questionable war, and all sorts of AIs. It's frankly surprising how much Carey manages to fit in 500 pages, and how he gets it all flowing and making sense and never once losing track of his story and message.

Which is also not to say I thought this book was perfect. It's sometimes a bit too messagey. The characters, while rounded and believable, sometimes fit the themes a little too neatly. There were bits I read faster less because I wanted to know what happened and more because I didn't quite care about what was happening just then. I am, however, perfectly willing to believe a lot of that's because I can't divorce "reading-me" from "literary critic/editor-me" and that other readers will not have these problems, or these levels of them.

The important thing is, though, that this book was fun. Fun and smart and full of SF coolness and unpredictable and well-written—and pointed, angry, punchy, thought-provoking. Everything good science fiction should be, in other words, and I don't know if anyone could've done it better. The sequel went on my TBR as soon as I saw it announced.

[zielenna]

hi :) 3, 12, 14, 25 for the book ask?

Hi!

3. What were your top five books of the year?

There isn't an obvious answer - my first instinct was to say Moby-Dick, which I read in 2021…

I spent most of the year following up on my interest in "workplace novels," or "labor fiction" (which emerged when I started looking for a job - incidentally, while reading Moby-Dick, possibly one of the first workplace novels?), and I enjoyed all novels I read as a result: Zola's Germinal, The Dragon's Village, Olga Ravn's Employees… The novel that stands out from these is Bibiana Candia's Azucre: una epopeya (which I read in Polish, but as far as I can tell it has not been translated into English). It is an experimental novella about the Spanish men 'hired' by Urbano Feijóo Sotomayor to replace the more expensive slaves on Cuban plantations. The designation as 'epic' helps to make sense of this - the novella recreates the experience of the workers, but also the cattle they work with, the objects… Like an epic, it is interested in a communal experience, but it writes it from the bottom up.

I obviously enjoyed Esther Yi's Y/N, but it might be the recency bias.

Another book that made a strong impression was Ronald Syme's Roman Revolution, a 580 pages long account of the collapse of the late Roman republic which I read over the summer. Syme finished it in 1939, with the rise of fascism in Italy as the obvious point of reference. The combination of the eloquence typical of early twentieth-century scholarship with barely restrained fury made it a very compelling read. It's not the best introduction to the period, as Syme assumes a passing familiarity with various figures, offices, and events, that I simply did not have, but the book has been, and remains extremely influential, which is why I chose to read this rather than anything else. I still catch myself thinking about it when watching the news sometimes - it is very clear about the consequences of creating states of exception in politics.

12. - just answered!

14. What books do you want to finish before the year is over?

I am not sure that I will finish anything within the next couple of days - I am in the middle of several books. Mostly, I am listening to the audiobook of James Frankie Thomas's Idlewild, which so far has been a novel about an intense queer friendship at a New York private school in the immediate wake of 9/11. A part of what it does is answer the question of why so many teenage girls* become obsessed with gay* men. It's unpleasantly real about all this; Thomas knows really well how to make the readers cringe. (The reader for the audiobook is very good, too).

25. What reading goals do you have for next year?

I have a list of fiction books I want to read this academic year, but I am not sure whether I will be able to stick to it. A specific goal I have and want to keep is to read more contemporary poetry, which I started doing late this year. I am now surrounded by people who care about it more than I do, so I want to know what is it that they are talking about. I would say that rather than be interested in all of recent poetry, I have been drawn to works that seek to capture a community's experience of a specific historical moment - essentially, more formally experimental historical fiction. I got M. NourbeSe Philip's Zong! and Don Mee Choi's DMZ Colony and Hardly War from the university library, so hopefully I will be able to read them in a not too distant future...

[inkofamethyst]

April 16, 2023

I can be described as a bit of a control freak.  In the way that I like to have control over every bit of my life as humanly possible.  I feel most stressed when I feel that I lack considerable amounts of control.  I wonder what my personal intersection of control and insecurity is?  Those two must derive from some specific fears, some specific formative moments.

Jennifer Morrison’s character in House is so different from Emma Swan in Once Upon A Time.  Emma Swan had that toughness, that red leather jacket.  Dr Carmody comes off as so much more bright-eyed (and she wears vests lol).  Actors man.  The thing is though, I straight-up dislike boss-subordinate romance thing in most cases, this one being no exception.  Idk, it’s just weird to me.

Also as entertaining as it is to watch a doctor with no bedside manner who ends up being correct about everything and saving the day in the end, I would hate to have him as a doctor or mentor tbh.  I am way too sensitive to go through that kind of nonsense.  But it is interesting--something I learned in a writing workshop is that people will follow a character (I’d even stretch to say this applies to celebrities who almost seem like characters with the way “we” fictionalize them) who is good at what they do even if they are unlikeable.  Don’t remember the reason though.

I got my grade back for stats and did significantly better than the first midterm which is wild because the content was a lot more difficult and I studied significantly less :/  I’m (obviously) not upset about the grade, I am learning things (and enjoying it a lot!  I’m actually looking forward to graduate level stats), I just think it’s funny.  Continues to validate my bad habits, though.

I once again feel compelled to complain about my status as an emotional booty call with my saxophone-... friend.  Literally the relationships/friendships that I dislike the most have to be the ones where the other person only calls/texts me when they’re sad or upset.  It’s not even that I don’t want to be there when my friends feel down.  It’s not even that I expect “50-50″ in a friendship at all times.  I fully recognize that friends will need more support through difficult times and that a person’s life has high and low points for varying lengths of time.  But friends are there for each other.  If someone doesn’t reciprocate an interest in my life, I check out.  I lose interest when they only reach out to me to complain about their own lives and almost never when they just want to hang out, no story attached.  And I feel bad for passively accepting the role of an emotional booty call wen I have minimized my investment in the person, but I also don’t put any effort to continue the relationship, so that person fully has an out if they ever decide that me not ever texting them first isn’t something they can put up with in a friend.  But until then, I open my ears, reassure them that their feelings are valid, smiling the whole way through, then come here to huff and haw.  

Anyway.  I’ve gotta get back to “writing” (more like formatting (and finishing!!)) what is essentially an undergraduate thesis but due to the circumstances of my research it cannot be officially deemed to be such a thing.  Good thing is, it’s a relatively simple project.  Another good thing, after the two presentations I’ve got coming up for it in a week and a half, I should be completely done with it.  Thankful for that.  Lowkey wish I didn’t have to travel again this week.  I feel extremely thankful for the opportunity, but I’m also incredibly exhausted.  Much more than I thought I’d be toward the end of my “easy” last semester.

Today I’m thankful... that there’s only a month left.  Less than a month, really.

Goal of being in bed by 2 am.

[rabbitindisguise]

Oh, and to update my recently watched anime

favorite gay anime:

link click seasons 1 and 2 (ongoing, up to episode 9)

ayaka (ongoing, up to episode 10)

bungo stray dogs season 5 (ongoing, up to episode 8)

mononogatari seasons 1 and 2 (ongoing)

non-gay anime (shorter summaries):

my happy marriage - kind of has poly fodder but not of the best quality. I like the animation. Not a lot to say honestly

dark gathering - super scary, but very hopeful and slice of life simultaneously?? it's hard to describe. The little girl takes the role of boy prodigy and the main protagonist (the guy) needs to be rescued by her constantly because he attracts ghosts. A very interesting inversion of a standard anime trope.

comments for the rest under the cut!

link click

oh my god I don't know why I didn't watch this sooner. It's really good, the animation is gorgeous, and the time travel mechanics are possibly the most interesting ones I've ever seen in fiction ever. There are thought out limitations to the supernatural abilities like in bsd but in a subtle way- there's no government body explaining it, they're just making it up as they go along. The relationship between the two protagonists is also really interesting, it's definitely going to be on my rewatch list because of it.

ayaka

Surprisingly this has been one of my favorites- it hit a lot of tropes I'm not familiar with and definitely want to explore more in the future because they're giving me a lot of emotions. The tl;dr on the plot is a guy (J-something, green hair) who's willing to give his life away to protect his home islands, and him making re-establishing his friendship with the person he's going to be dying for (the water dragon) while the other guy has no idea that's what's happening. It's at the point in the season where I genuinely have no idea if green hair is going to live or die- the reveal was super gradual, going from the pov of the protagonist and transferring over to him and showing he's been dealing with all of this without telling anyone.

It also killed another character off the same way (dad, saved the island the first time) so I'm not sure if the power of friendship is going to save him, which is terrible. He even fits one of my favorite tropes of "guy who seems like he's slacking off is actually better than everyone else at his job" type of thing (aka kakashi). If he doesn't live I'm going to be sad about it on tumblr probably, and if he doesn't I'll be overjoyed and reblog spamming gifs so you'll all find out what happens lmao

bsd seasons 5

I mean I'm not sure I can say anything new about bsd because it's a gay staple of anime, except that maybe I liked this season a lot better than the last one because it incorporated a lot more characters I liked. The cliffhanger was kinda meh last season also. But this season has been really solid on the follow through, and it hasn't been full of really tedious flashbacks that detract from the usual interesting multilayer ongoing plotlines.

It also has dazai, and honestly he's the main reason I love the series- I don't really like some of the developments where his relationships with other characters go down darker paths though, or get simplified down or the subtext removed to make space for plot. The reveal that the several seasons of homoerotic subtext was because a character (angsty black tendrils guy) didn't have long to live is an example of that, the lack of a good explanation was why it was so compelling, so a so-so explanation is really disappointing. But! I guess it's fine because he keeps just building more relationships like that :') I really liked their trio though (dazai, tiger guy, and angsty guy), this scene lives in my head rent free

I feel like in the first couple seasons they had more to fight about, and now that some miscommunication has been resolved it feels like the emotional development between the characters hasn't carried over to the actions of the plot. Which is a huge bummer. A big draw of the series for me is the nuance of relationships between characters, and lately it's been greatly reduced in the ones I got attached to and lots of that energy has been dumped into characters I'm kind of lukewarm on. (Though even those relationships have been skimped on- there were like 0 longing or intense looks at all. Everyone instantly gets gayer around dazai but he's kind of ridiculously stiff ever since THIS scene

And yeah sure I'll never seriously ship him with anyone else, there's no coming back from that, but seriously if he's going to be like that I wish there were more flashbacks to this relationship so I could at least get more ship material to angst about before bed.)

mononogatari

This was rough getting into, but once I got past episode two there was a lot of great poly ship potential so it was totally worth it. It's a sweet slice of life style supernatural series, which is a nice change of pace. There's action but it's very emotional and in a more multilevel way than a lot of common anime where there is one main hero being supported by friends/community. There really isn't a main hero so the direction of support hits a lot of different directions, so the scenes where people talk about the support of others hit different, which I feel like is a big part of the poly appeal to me. Sword guy + botan + main protag is my main ship, but there are lots of other combos that work well.

[dokidokitsuna]

I’ve been thinking about this experience a lot lately, so I’m going to write a cathartic little blurb about it and hopefully just get it out of my head:

So a year or two ago, on this forum I belong to that’s mostly populated by other comic artists and writers, I started a thread to ask for suggestions about writing a character with no friends. Because I wanted to write this MC more like a normal girl, without “using my own art-obsessed life as a blueprint”-- basically, being an artist means I always have something to do alone, which makes being alone matter less, and I know it wouldn’t be the same if I wasn’t ‘like this’. But I don’t know any other way to live, so I wanted some outside perspectives.

What I didn’t anticipate was the appalling things people were willing to say to me about the mere idea of writing about a character with no friends...I’m not going to quote any of those comments directly, because the worst ones were actually pretty long and complex, and maybe I’m just being optimistic, but I believe they were mainly emotional reactions based on the hurt that they had felt during similar times in their lives (basically, the people who were MOST adamant that such a character should not exist were those who had also been friendless before, as backwards as it sounds).

But, uh...that emotion did not come out in good ways. o_O And just in general, being hurt is not an excuse to dehumanize others...which is exactly what happened. I got people telling me things like “forming friendships is a fundamental part of the human experience, why would you take that away” and “isn’t there enough sadness in the world without writing something so depressing” and “how do you expect to progress her story in any compelling way without relationships to base it on”...

Like, stuff so narrow-minded and unexpected (I’d been in that forum for over 4 years at that point) I was too shocked to even get angry.

Fortunately, most of the people who replied decided to be normal about it, but the fact that multiple people genuinely thought those things were okay to say, as if they carried no real-world implications whatsoever...that stuck with me. :/ It was genuinely upsetting that they apparently looked at that topic and went “Gee, I wonder why this clearly neurodivergent, introverted, seasoned writer wants to explore the concept of not having friends...it couldn’t possibly be a lived experience that they want to express through a fictional character...no, it MUST be because they just don’t understand how people or stories work, and I have to warn them before they make a terrible mistake!!”

And even if it wasn’t personal to me, and I was just writing it to explore a different worldview (as writers often do)...why the taboo?? Why is this, of all things, a character/story that ‘no one wants to read’?? So many threads started in that forum (some of them also by me) about stories starring murderers and abusers and actual supervillains go uncontested, but a story about a cute magical girl who just doesn’t happen to have friends crosses the line...? 

Even now I can’t understand why the reaction was so severe...generally, I think ‘social skill issues’ tend to hit people really close to home, but the idea of responding to such a thing with disgust and revulsion rather than kindness and understanding (or y’know, encouragement to portray a commonly stigmatized life experience in a non-negative light)...that escapes me. Even if I didn’t feel emotionally ready (?) to read about such an MC, I would never have the gall to try to guilt someone out of writing them.

Anyway, I don’t really have a snappy conclusion to make here...it’ll probably take a few more years of marinating in my brain for me to fully process what happened there. ._. I guess if anything I just wanna say that people without any friends or just people without any close friends exist in real life, we’re not all depressed and suicidal (in fact, some of us are-- dare I say it-- HAPPY regardless) and we still have lives and goals and thoughts and futures. Our stories matter, and other people don’t need to be ‘protected’ from them. That’s all.

[notgoingwell]

Definitive turn-offs in fanfiction, barring standard issues like wrongly listed warnings, misleading tags and ships, turning a reader into an OC, crossposting, etc.:

-Immaturity (both in the rise of conflicts, as well as, simple dialogue) there's nothing more off-putting than two adult characters behaving like overemotional teenagers that put feelings above reason, entirely neglecting responsibilities and duties. There's always a time and place to address such things, but making hurt feelings the front and centre of a story, where the concerned person repeatedly whinges, is an absolute obnoxious vexation

-Twisted morality eg. villainising a reasonable person due to deviating beliefs one fails to comprehend, or normalising inappropriate, harmful behaviour 

-Insert modern sensibilities into fantasy or science fiction (issues, speech, behaviour, belief systems, etc.) This one especially turns into a jarring experience in a case like, eg. modern girl falls into XYZ trope -> Bear in mind that, depending on the time, and the world, they're in, they'll have to adjust. You won't be able to interact with anyone, less so, them apprehending anything in your colloquial language. (slang, idioms, abbreviations, and jokes) Not acknowledging those significant factors will influence the verisimilitude of your story, disregarding all believability and possible interesting bits you could've written about. Adjustments invite faux pas, trial and error, having severe consequences due to carelessness. One action causes a reaction.

-Out of Character I'm aware some characters are more easily to grasp and get the hang out of when writing them, but it irks me to no end when they all of a sudden talk as the next person on the street would, when they, before, had a unique way with words. (Adding, and this point, might as well, more likely be seen as "to each their own", turning them into something they weren't before because the author felt the need to project their own stuff onto said character)

-Main Character Syndrome (applies to both: Reader-inserts and OCs) Not every character has to be the chosen one, the one who's more powerful, knows all the answers, or is somehow the most special creature to ever have lived. It's okay to be normal and simply exist within this/other universe(s), without ever contributing anything groundbreaking. A small arc of changing one's mind, attitude or belief is as compelling as a larger-than-life adventure, if done right. And if a character happens to possess any special abilities, it'd be fascinating to see them working on their shortcomings and follow them throughout their training to master said skills (which one should not master without ever having trained) Additionally, and I sadly have witnessed this one quite often, to add to a new inserted character's uniqueness and giving them sth. to do, some authors will transfer lines or actions to their new addition from other people in-universe, failing to notice, that they've stolen these people's character-defining moments. There's a way to implement your character in the story without diminishing the roles of everyone around, no matter how minuscule. (don't even get me started on Reader/OC being the sole reason the protagonist/love interest chooses a path, takes action, etc. as shown in the media they're taken out of)

-Lack of creativity this one's tricky to define, especially with the example I'm about to give, 'cause it isn't inherently a bad thing, might as well be down to preference. More often than not, writers tend to insert characters by connecting them to the protagonists in some way, be it through familial bonds, established friendships or replacing the role of a side character. (throwing some shade at Star wars here, since they believe said bond is enough to make a character worth following/investing in)

Yet, it always seems so lacklustre and uncreative to just turn your Reader/OC into a sister, daughter, neighbour, or longtime friend, in order to have an easier way in. Even more so when that status quo replaces the relationship-developing phase of a story. I've always found it more intriguing to have strangers clash and find their way into working as a unit. And if one character simply replaces another, why insert it in the first place? 

Feel free to add.

[openlettersforyou-blog]

The Enduring Magic of Harry Potter: A Look at the Boy Who Lived

by Starlog

When it comes to iconic literary characters, few have left as profound an impact as Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling’s creation has enchanted millions of readers worldwide and created a legacy that continues to thrive. As a lifelong fan, I’ve often found myself reflecting on what makes Harry Potter such a compelling character. Let's dive into why the Boy Who Lived remains a beloved figure in literature.

The Relatable Hero

One of the most remarkable aspects of Harry Potter is his relatability. At the outset of the series, Harry is an ordinary boy living with his unpleasant relatives, the Dursleys. He’s not perfect; he makes mistakes, struggles with self-doubt, and sometimes acts impulsively. This vulnerability makes him a character readers can identify with, regardless of age. We see ourselves in Harry’s journey, from his awkward beginnings to his heroic transformations.

Courage in the Face of Adversity

Harry’s bravery is evident from the very beginning of the series. Despite his seemingly insurmountable odds, he consistently stands up for what is right. Whether it’s facing a troll in the bathroom or confronting the Dark Lord himself, Harry's courage is not the absence of fear but rather the willingness to act in spite of it. This quality resonates deeply, reminding us that heroism often lies in the choices we make during our most challenging moments.

The Power of Friendship

Harry's friendships with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are central to his story. The trio's dynamic is a testament to the importance of loyalty, trust, and support. Their bond shows that even the most extraordinary individuals are not alone in their struggles. It’s a beautiful reminder that strength often comes from those we choose to surround ourselves with.

Growth and Redemption

Throughout the series, Harry undergoes significant personal growth. He grapples with his identity, learns from his mistakes, and evolves from a curious boy into a determined leader. Additionally, Harry’s capacity for forgiveness and redemption is a crucial aspect of his character. His interactions with characters like Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy highlight the complexity of human nature and the possibility of change.

A Symbol of Hope

Ultimately, Harry Potter represents hope. His story is one of triumph over darkness and the belief that good can prevail. In a world where uncertainty and challenges are ever-present, Harry’s journey offers solace and inspiration. He shows us that even in the darkest times, there is always a glimmer of light to be found.

Legacy and Influence

The impact of Harry Potter extends far beyond the pages of the books. The series has inspired films, plays, theme parks, and countless fan creations. It has fostered a sense of community among readers and encouraged a new generation to embrace the magic of reading. Harry Potter's legacy is a testament to the power of storytelling and the profound connections that can be forged through literature.

In conclusion, Harry Potter is more than just a fictional character; he is a symbol of bravery, friendship, and hope. His story continues to resonate because it speaks to the universal human experience. Whether you're re-reading the books for the umpteenth time or introducing them to a new generation, Harry Potter's magic remains as captivating as ever.

[pagebypagereviews]

New YA Book Releases for Teens: A 2023 Guide The world of Young Adult (YA) literature is constantly evolving, offering fresh narratives that resonate with teens across the globe. As we navigate through 2023, a plethora of new YA book releases are set to captivate the hearts and minds of young readers. From fantasy epics and sci-fi adventures to poignant contemporary tales, this year promises a diverse selection of stories that will entertain, challenge, and inspire. This article delves into some of the most anticipated YA books of 2023, highlighting their themes, plots, and the unique elements that make them stand out. Exploring the Latest in YA Fiction The landscape of YA fiction in 2023 is rich and varied, with authors exploring complex themes such as identity, resilience, and the quest for belonging. These narratives not only offer escapism but also provide young readers with the tools to navigate their own lives. Below, we explore a selection of titles that are generating buzz and excitement among the YA community. Fantasy and Sci-Fi Adventures "The Starless Crown" by Jane Yolen - An epic fantasy tale of a young girl who, after receiving a deadly prophecy, embarks on a journey that could either save or doom her world. "Galaxy's Edge" by Amie Kaufman - A thrilling sci-fi adventure set in space, where a group of teens must navigate the complexities of the universe, friendship, and love to save their home. Contemporary Tales with a Twist "You've Reached Sam" by Dustin Thao - A heart-wrenching story about love, loss, and the possibility of saying goodbye, this novel explores the impact of grief on a teenager's life. "The Weight of Our Sky" by Hanna Alkaf - Set against the backdrop of historical events, this novel delves into the struggles of a teen battling OCD amidst societal chaos. Diverse Voices and Stories "Firekeeper's Daughter" by Angeline Boulley - A groundbreaking thriller that combines Ojibwe culture, a compelling mystery, and a profound exploration of identity and belonging. "Ace of Spades" by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé - This gripping novel tackles issues of racism and privilege within a prestigious academy, through the eyes of two black students. Why YA Books Matter Young Adult literature plays a crucial role in addressing the concerns, dreams, and challenges faced by teens today. These books offer more than just entertainment; they provide a mirror for young readers to see themselves and understand others. YA novels often tackle difficult subjects with sensitivity and honesty, allowing teens to engage with complex issues in a safe and relatable context. Moreover, the diversity of characters and settings in YA literature has significantly increased, offering a more inclusive and representative selection of stories for readers of all backgrounds. The Impact of Representation Representation in YA books is vital for fostering empathy, understanding, and self-acceptance among teens. Reading about characters who share similar experiences, backgrounds, or identities can be incredibly affirming for young readers. It helps them feel seen and understood, and can also boost their self-esteem and sense of belonging. Additionally, diverse representation in YA literature exposes readers to different cultures, perspectives, and life experiences, promoting open-mindedness and inclusivity. Looking Ahead: The Future of YA Literature The future of YA literature looks bright, with authors and publishers increasingly pushing the boundaries of genre, theme, and representation. As we move forward, we can expect to see more innovative storytelling techniques, a broader range of voices, and even greater emphasis on inclusivity and diversity. The evolution of YA literature reflects the changing dynamics of society and the growing complexity of the world in which teens are growing up. By continuing to offer stories that are both reflective and visionary, YA books will remain a vital source of comfort, inspiration, and learning for young readers.

Conclusion The new YA book releases of 2023 offer a treasure trove of stories that are as diverse as they are engaging. From fantastical worlds and sci-fi adventures to contemporary tales rooted in real-world issues, these books promise to captivate and inspire teens. Beyond their entertainment value, YA novels play a critical role in helping young readers navigate the complexities of adolescence, offering insights into identity, resilience, and empathy. As the landscape of YA literature continues to evolve, it remains an essential pillar in the development of young minds, encouraging them to dream, question, and understand the world around them. With so much to look forward to, 2023 is poised to be a remarkable year for YA literature.