#these are probably the ones I reread the most

[ryescapades]

*ੈ‧₊༺ “SHE’S BEEN DANCING WITH THE DEVIL ALL NIGHT,”

— a casual night out at a party turns wild when you come face to face with a masked man.

characters: ghostface!itoshi rin (bllk) x fem!reader contents: nsfw mdni !!! mention of drinking, unprotected p in v seggs, mutual + guided masturbation, slight oral fixation, a bit of choking, mirror seggs, dirty talk, creampie, college setting, hint of jealous!rin, swearing, reader wears a skirt

a/n: i didn't write this btw. my inner demon did. (blaming lumi for sending me that ghostface fanart of rin) 2k wc

you feel him before you can even see him.

it’s heavy and persistent, the weight of his gaze pricking the back of your neck like dry needles, except it’s making your muscles lock up tighter, not supposedly the other way around. you look around, eyes roving over the boisterous crowd and taking in the sight of some of them dressed in costumes in some way or the other.

halloween had already ended, but there are people still in the festive mood, it seems.

your roommate had invited you to this huge college party at someone’s house, and with nothing to do with your time seeing as the midterms season just finished, you had agreed to come along. you thought the hang out would only consist of a few chats and drinks with friends, maybe a dance or two, the night ending with you going back home probably drunk and alone.

you just didn’t think some random guy would immediately take interest in you the minute you slid up to the makeshift bar.

reluctantly, you force yourself to focus on the conversation in front of you, barely taking in what the guy is saying. you can’t even remember what his name is and the department he’s from.

jirou… from the medic course? you think? you don’t know anymore. and frankly, you don’t care. you’re pretty sure he was flirting with you - still is, in fact. but again, you’re just not listening. not when as soon as the guy started talking, he appeared in the corner of your eye.

silent yet deadly imposing, he towers over most of the people here like he owns the place. clad in a black hoodie and equally dark pants, he looks almost out of place with those casual clothes, if not for the ghostface mask he adorns.

goosebumps prickle on your arms when you accidentally glance at the inky depths of the eyes on the mask.

“hey, you listening?” jirou’s voice takes you by surprise, and the glass of fruit gin your roommate had graciously requested for you almost slips out of your hand from your flinch, making the cold liquid inside to splash out to your hand.

“shit, sorry! i didn’t mean to startle you—“ jirou panics, but you’re already shaking your head and waving your hand off as you rise from your seat. “no, you’re good. i just - uh, i’ll be right back,” you lie through teeth.

you’d rather spend the next hour rereading the materials for your previous tests than listen to him talk for another minute, if you’re being honest. swiftly making your way to the washroom, you sigh wistfully at your lack of luck in getting a good new company tonight.

you don’t get far, unfortunately.

out of nowhere, there is a hand taking a hold on your elbow, causing you to let out a shriek as you’re being pulled into an empty room. the door closes, your back pressing against it as the culprit of said hand looms over you.

it’s the man from earlier. the one whose gaze had been burning holes in the back for your head from across the room. your body turns rigid, unnerved at the ghostface mask he’s wearing. “it’s you,” you whisper.

he doesn’t say anything, but his hand reaches up to your face, cradling your jaw with his fingers as his thumb places itself on your lip. your pulse quickens when he gently traces the seam of your mouth, pressing onto the plush cushion.

words instantly die on your tongue the moment he uses the same hand to hold yours— the one still sticky from the alcohol from earlier— and brings it to your lips. your breath hitches at the insinuation. “wh-what…”

without any warning, the masked man pushes your middle and ring fingers in, breaching past your lips and into your mouth. a muffled sound rips out from you, one that takes both you and him by surprise.

holy shit, did you just pathetically whimper from having your own fingers shoved into your mouth? yes. yes, you did.

sweet and tangy tinges from the gin hit your tastebuds, and something inside you flares up then. the man lets out a hiss, palming his erection with his free hand when you swirl your tongue around and in between your fingers, taking them deeper into your mouth as your lashes flutter from your own action.

there’s a hushed curse, and suddenly you’re being shoved onto the bed in the middle of the room. you don’t fight it. you don’t even want to.

desire pools deep in your core, your body alighting from the sensitized nerves. you can feel yourself getting hotter, the growing wetness between your thighs making your panties feel uncomfortable to be in.

“hands and knees,” your breath stutters at the voice, pussy clenching around nothing as you move to obey his command. you’re doing something wrong, however, when he audibly clicks his tongue. “lower,” he says.

you bite down on your lip, finally understanding before you descend lower, your head laying on the bed and hips lifting in the air as you nervously fist on the sheets below you.

you feel so… exposed. vulnerable. and yet you’re so pitifully turned on you don’t know what to make of yourself.

shivering as his hands drops to your hips, he pulls your skirt further up to bare your ass for his eyes to see. he teases the hem of your soiled panties before tugging them down your thighs, cursing low under his breath at the sight of your wet, dripping cunt.

“play with yourself,” he instructs. swallowing down the nerves, you bring the fingers you’d sucked on earlier to your pussy, tentatively rubbing at your folds as more slickness seeps out from you.

you let out a small whine when you hear the clinging of his belt behind you. “faster,” he orders, and you do. your pussy clenches again, whimpering into the sheets as your fingers get more coated with your sticky wetness.

you can hear him breathing heavily, and you know he’s stroking himself at the sight of you. shoulders rigid against the bed, you desperately want to turn around, to see how he looks like, how his dick looks like.

“please…” you whisper. you almost rejoice then, when you feel the bed dips on both side, his knees appearing beside your own. “god, you’re so soaked i could just push it right in,” he groans.

and that’s what he’s planning to do.

grabbing both of your arms, he pulls you up to lean back against his chest, the soft material of his hoodie a contrast to the hard, throbbing cock against your back. the audible dreamy sigh you're trying to hold back feels fatally difficult after feeling the sheer size of him.

goddamn, he’s gonna make you feel so fucking full.

he rests his head beside yours, bare muscled thighs caging yours in between. “look up,” his voice enters your ears. you bring your gaze up out of mild confusion, and the gasp he elicits out of you is not just out of surprise.

right as you lift your head, he plunges his cock straight into your awaiting hole, straight away hitting the deepest part of you. what you didn’t expect however, is the mirror that sits adjacent to the bed, reflecting the obscene view of you getting railed by a ghostface from behind.

“f-fuck!” your sweet little cry causes his cock to twitch inside, a rough grunt ripping out from his throat. he barely gives you time to accommodate to his size - then again you don’t think you need any. you’re already dripping so much that his dick can easily mold your pussy to the shape of him.

“you’re so tight,” he starts thrusting in and out, cock dragging against your insides in the most delicious way. the needy moan you let out is high-pitched, a keening sound that echoes around the room.

“you love getting fucked like this, huh? love getting ruined by masked men?” he sneers through clenched teeth, one of his arms reaching to hold you captive by the throat and the other slipping under your shirt to keep a possessive hold around your waist.

zaps of pleasure form at the base of your spine, your toes curling from the pure desire coursing through you. your filthy, desperate noises only grow louder when he picks up the pace, bullying his cock into your cunt just as desperately.

“pleasepleaseplease—“ you sob through the tightening of his lithe fingers around your throat, clamping down on him as you choke on the slight lack of air.

you grip onto his forearm like it’s your lifeline, back arching as you can feel yourself getting into the precipice of your climax. the sound of skin slapping against skin bounces off the walls, the loud squelching of your pussy sending your mind into overdrive.

your eyes become heavily lidded, but you hold yourself back from closing them as you both continue to watch in the mirror, the unsettling look of the ghostface mask only adding to the tingling in your stomach.

“that’s it, baby. look at you. so pretty, so perfect,” he murmurs against your ear, clearly enjoying the debauched expression on your face. “gonna fucking destroy this pussy till you cum so hard around my cock, yeah? not even that pathetic excuse of a guy downstairs can wreck you as bad as i do,"

“yes, yes, only you, please wanna cum - mmnghfuck, please,” you slur, incoherent babbles beginning to fill your mouth as the the coil in your stomach draws taut.

he’s hitting all the right spots inside you, ones you didn’t even know existed, and the glimpse of the creamy ring around the base of his cock in the mirror from how much you’re gushing only gets you closer and closer to the edge.

his hand presses deeper into the soft dip of your waist, hints of red dents making their way onto your skin as he slams into you harder and faster. soon enough, the tightening in your gut snaps, your body trembling in his hold with a shattered, wanton sound.

“so fucking good for me,” he growls, feeling your pussy squeeze down on him as he chases his own impending climax. a few thrusts after and he’s stilling his hips, burying himself as deep as he can with a broken moan. warmth spills inside you, filling you to the brim as your pussy clenches down to milk him for what he’s worth.

the both of you heavily pant as you’re coming down from your high, flushed red from exhaustion and icky from the sweat through your clothes plus the bodily fluids dripping down where you two are still joined together.

your eyes, clouded and hazy, trails to the mirror in front of you. chest heaving, your mind turns dizzy as you stare at the ghostface, both of his hands slowly dropping to your hips.

one second your weight is fully leaned back against him, and the next you’re suddenly thrown onto the sheets, a depraved mewl slipping past your lips when your hole is suddenly emptied, thick globs of your mixed cum freely seeping out of your pussy.

he hovers above you, and your heartbeat quickens when he promptly reaches a hand to his face, grabbing the bottom of the mask to pull it off and toss it away.

dark ivy strands and teal eyes greet you, his hand ruffling the hair to somehow fix his disheveled appearance. “rin…” you breathe out, cheeks tinting with a darker crimson.

your eyes lock, something akin to that familiar connection you’ve always had with the striker clinks into place. “i knew it was you,” you mutter.

you knew from the very first time your eyes laid on him tonight, and you’d confirmed it when he’d first uttered a word to you.

his eyes gleam under the dim light of the room, and he closes the distance between you again as he reaches down to strip himself off the hoodie, toned chest and abdomen from all his rigorous soccer training coming into view.

“good. because i’m gonna fuck you without the mask this time,”

ghostface!rin art by @/akatsuha on tt.

never posted two smuts in a row before dawg this is Not me

also not gonna elaborate on how rin even had the mask in the first place :p some ppl forced it onto him maybe (spoiler it’s bcsg)

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[lokigodofaces]

one bingo and several close calls

tagging @sobeautifullyobsessed @worstloki and @babygirlthor because i don't know who else currently writes

commentary below bc i am talkative at the moment

-had a ff.net account -wattpad was my second fic website (quotev being the first) but like my first phase on quotev ended and wasn't that great. i started on wattpad & since then i've been writing. i still update on wattpad bc i'm still getting readers so may as well update on both wattpad and ao3. stopped updating on quotev bc i got annoyed -yep, i have an ao3 account (under same url) *i'm sex averse -used to roleplay but i don't currently -have beta read (& i'm willing to beta read) -i've never had any of my fics beta read because i'm the type of person that feels bad asking help for things (which i'm trying to get over listen i've prioritized this in my personal life over fic i promise i'm working on it) but i guess i've had sections beta read, especially since i've come back from brazil. at times i think my english sounds off so i ask someone to tell me if that english sounds normal or not. i don't have anything against beta readers, i just don't have the courage to ask for one -most of my fics are self-indulgent, Captive being the most by far -it is hard to communicate feelings but everyone understands alhdkglhalkdgha -yes, have also done the same equivalent to leaving multiple kudos on wattpad (the two fics that got me back into fic reading are still up and i still reread them every once in a while. author is on hiatus. hope they get the sporadic emails of me commenting about how i've read it a thousand times) *i prefer whump or hurt/comfort over pure fluff *just now realizing i haven't written m/m or f/f. i've written with nb characters though *okay so i used to be multifandom but lately i've only written for the mcu so i'll say that for now i'm not *i wouldn't say i LOVE researching. sometimes it annoys me and/or stresses me out bc i want to be accurate and i stress myself over it. so i do it but it's not my favorite part of the process -i keep an outline. whether i follow it is another question. -who doesn't love comments? *have not (if anyone would make art for my fics i'd probably die of feels) -oh dear dont get me started on how many wips i have -editing is hard -i get ideas during my nightly thinking-of-scenarios-before-sleeping thing *don't drink *don't drink coffee. i'm not much of a tea person & i preferred tea in brazil (passion fruit tea guys. passion fruit tea). more likely to drink pop or sparkling water, maybe gatorade or terere while writing -i like my aroace!Loki fics and they haven't gotten tons of attention. one might because it's multichapter and just. isn't far along yet. but the one shot i feel like is some good writing that could potentially be very stirring for aroacespecs. i wrote it while questioning things and used it to process those feelings i was having and i think a lot of aroacespec people would appreciate it. *used to want to be a pro writer. but for now...i'm just burnt out from original writing. maybe one day. right now i'm gonna focus on fics.

Thank you for the tag @theblueeyedfirebender (any FMA-blog followers, check out this blog!)

I mainly write for LoZ (ao3), but on an older AO3 account (no I will not be linking it) I've written for Supernatural and Sherlock (mostly trash one-shots when I used to take commissions).

@snail-studios, @hero-of-the-wolf, and @gracieelinn, I put a clean bingo sheet below so fill one out if you'd like! ❤️

[lemon-slushie]

Madeleine x Dark Choco one shot

—————-

Fluff/ sfw story, around 3000 words

Before reading I’d like to say that I am nothing close to a writer! I literally wrote this is my notes app. I just wanted to try my hand at it. I also didn’t reread so there’s probably gonna be some mistake lol but some opinions in reblogs or comments would be nice!

Dark Choco’s gaze was fixated on the river in-front of him, clear water rushed past him with fish following in the waves but he wasn’t paying attention. He had come here to catch some food for dinner. Ever since he left the sword behind and began an easy life on the outskirts of his old kingdom Dark Choco had to personally hunt his food. Originally he detested the idea of hunting innocent animals but forced himself to do what he must, and it wasn’t as bad as he expected. It was almost calming, sitting and watching the animals go by, waiting for the weak of the bunch to show itself. Perhaps it was remnants of who he used to be peaking through. Dark Choco tried to ignore that thought though. But as of recently he couldn’t bring himself to relax at all, his head was filled with one thing and one thing only. Madeleine.

Madeleine had found him a few months back. Three perhaps? Dark Choco found it hard to keep track of dates nowadays. Madeleine, on a pursuit to expand his knowledge of the world and move away from his sheltered life, had left his home and ended up lost in the dense forest of the dark cacao kingdom. Wandering almost hopelessly until a the light of a campfire caught his eye, like a beacon of hope. Dark Choco remembers very vividly the first time he saw him. The way the knight excitedly stumbled onto his camp grounds, long platinum hair wind blown and messy with one of his bangs pushed back in a wing shaped hair clip as the other fell in his face , a thick blue jacket wrapped around him, but what Dark Choco remembers most was his face. Cheeks and nose tinted red and pink from the cold, blue eyes staring eagerly at him, and a big stupid smile. He was bright and stuck out like sore thumb against the dim woods. Before Dark Choco could get a word out Madeleine happily introduced himself. A “knight commander from the great Crème republic” he professed proudly. He remembers the way Madeleine fumbled over his words, trying to act as if he wasn’t lost at all and just needed a moment to rest and warm up, but also some directions to “refresh his brain” could be nice also. Dark Choco isn’t sure what possessed him to allow Madeleine to stay, perhaps it was his odd charm…or the guilt of leaving him to freeze to death in the forest. Whatever it was, Dark Choco allowed him to stay at the camp for a while to gather himself and thaw out.

Madeleine thanked him and quickly made himself comfortable, tossing down his backpack and making himself comfortable on a conveniently placed log. He asked Dark Choco a few basic small talk questions, his name, what’s he doing out here, so on so forth. He was blunt and short with Madeleine, though it didn’t seem to phase the knight as he easily went on talking about himself. Dark choco, not having much better to do, listened and soon found himself almost enthralled in Madeleine’s stories. How he and a “coworker” had saved his republic from a stray light shard (Dark Choco hasn’t a clue what this is but judging from Madeleine’s description it must be pretty bad), and the time he and a group of others fought and defeated a dragon, along with when he and his republic fought against the forces of dark enchantress and her servants of darkness. Dark Choco cringed to himself during the last story, though not having been apart of the darkness during this event, any reminders of his past always felt like a slap in the face. Despite that he still felt drawn in by the other’s story of his heroic stories, admired him almost. Madeleine nearly embodied all the Dark Choco had wanted to be, what he could’ve been. Madeleine almost reminded him of his old self, almost.

Madeleine was certainly a character, quite loud and boisterous, and clearly full of himself. His self centered nature was definitely something that took a bit of getting used to. Though, dark choco could tell his intentions were true, which made it easier. Perhaps his stories were exaggerated at times but the way Madeleine spoke about his desire to travel and learn felt earnest. Dark Choco wasn’t sure what had possessed him, he couldn’t help but feel almost completely charmed by Madeleine. His stories of being a hero, his want to venture out past his gated republic and discover, and even his self centered attitude even charmed him at times. With that, against his better judgment, Dark Choco allowed him to stay how ever long he needed. Madeleine gave him another big smile, along with some thanks, as he began digging in his bag for his own supplies to set up camp. The rest of that night was filled with mindless banter, mostly all from Madeleine. It was odd to Dark Choco. He hadn’t had just a stupid back and forth about nothing in so long. It felt good.

The following morning Dark Choco was almost sad to see Madeleine go. Dark Choco watched as he gathered his things as he spoke about basically nothing to him. Part of him wanted to invite Madeleine to stay for breakfast, but he his nerves caused a struggle to get anything out. Dark Choco hadn’t really tried to befriend anyone in quite a while, which led him to a bit of overthinking when it came to simple things such as a breakfast. Eventually Madeleine finished packing and Dark Choco pointed him off in the right direction, after some more goodbyes and more ‘thank you’s, Madeleine was off. Until he was stopped by a sudden grip on his arm. He turned around to Dark Choco and gave him a confused look. Dark Choco probably looked like an idiot, he stared back at Madeleine with a surprised face. He acted purely out of emotion. This was rare. After a brief moment of looking stupid, dark choco fixed himself, releasing madeleines arm, and finally finding his voice.

“… Perhaps.. You could stop by, after you leave the kingdom..?”

Madeleine smiled at him.

“Of course, my friend.”

That one spur of the moment decision is what led Dark Choco to where he is now. Madeleine stayed true to his word and visited him after he left the kingdom. He even brought along some gifts and food to show his appreciation for Dark Choco’s kindness. They sat and talked for hours that night, Madeleine setting up camp with him and spending the night once more. Though, one night turned into staying for breakfast, then dinner, then another night, then three nights, then into a week, then two weeks, then a month, and so on. Perhaps they were just lonely from spending days traveling by themselves but the two just seemed to click. Dark Choco hadn’t had a friend by his side in so long that he gladly welcomed the new warmth of Madeleine. Though as the days continued dark choco couldn’t help but notice that something deeper than a feeling of friendship was beginning manifest within him. All of his thoughts were taken over by Madeleine, he was all Dark Choco could think about. His bright hair and how stray pieces fell perfectly around his face, the way his eyelashes sat over half-lidded eyes, and the thing he thought about most was his smile. Madeleine’s smile was big, goofy, and contagious. He always managed to get at least a smirk from dark choco, even from the most unfunny jokes. Just from his smile.

So here Dark Choco was now. Staring blankly into a river as he desperately tried to navigate his new feelings. Romance had never been something he thought about before, whether he didn’t have time for it or simply didn’t care for it. All of these emotions were beginning to get frustrating, he had no clue how to deal with them. He couldn’t tell Madeleine, he didn’t want to risk driving him away if the feelings weren’t mutual. What was he to do? A splash from a fish jumping in the river snapped him out of his thoughts, reminding him why he was even here in the first place. Dark Choco sighed and focused his attention onto the river, its best to try and distract himself from these thoughts.

Dark Choco made his way back to his- no, ..their campsite, with a small basket of fish in hand. Fresh snow from the night before crunched under his feet and crisp air filled his lungs. He enjoyed his new life, it was quiet and peaceful. Dark Choco walked slow and leisurely, enjoying the forest life around him. Though the freezing temperatures of the kingdom did not allow for much flowers or other plant life, he enjoyed the large old trees. The trees blocked out quite a bit of sun, leaving most of the forest floor shaded but the sun that did shine through made the snow look as though it had glitter mixed into it. A soft glow of yellow and orange against the snow and branches caught Dark Choco’s attention as he got closer to camp. He crept up behind a nearby tree and peaked over the side. Of course, there sat Madeleine by a fire. It may be odd, but Dark Choco enjoyed watching him from afar at times and seeing how he acted on his own without worry of others seeing. Perhaps it was something of a guilty pleasure, trying to get a glimpse of Madeleine without his persona. The flame infront of him was a little small, as he wasn’t very experienced in living outdoors, but he tried nonetheless. After a little bit of judging Madeleine’s camping skill, Dark Choco noticed something that made his heart skip. Madeleine had taken Dark Choco’s cloak and was wearing it. He sat with he’s knees pulled to his chest and the cloak held together at the edges like a blanket. Dark Choco didn’t know why but something about seeing Madeleine in his clothes caused a heat to rise to his cheeks. He stood and watched the knight a little longer, engraving the scene into his head, before he finally forced himself to move and approached Madeleine.

“…I’m back”

He must’ve been quiet because Madeleine nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his voice, quickly stumbling to straighten himself out and removing the cloak.

“D- Dark Choco!! Haha! I didn’t realize you were coming back so soon!”

“…Why are you wearing that?”

Madeleine sheepishly slid the cloak off his shoulder, avoiding eye contact.

“Uh.. well, I suppose I’m not very used to such cold weather. Day and night I’m freezing no matter what. I needed some more layers and you left this behind so…”

He seemed embarrassed about being caught as he handed the cloak back but dark choco only pushed Madeleine’s hand back towards him.

“It’s alright.. You can keep wearing it…”

Dark Choco thought for a moment.

“Do you do this often?”

Madeleine nervously laughed to himself, rocking on his heels slightly.

“Only on the days you don’t take it with you. I’m not really used to such cold weather, the republic is quite warm all year round haha..”

Madeleine embarrassedly tried to explain himself but what he didn’t notice was the blush spreading on dark chocos face as he thought about Madeleine wearing his cloak around.

“…I see… that’s alright. You can wear it whenever you please..”

He smiled at dark choco, slipping the cloak back on. Though he still seemed a bit embarrassed.

“Gracious as always! Thank you, my friend!”

Dark Choco gave Madeleine a pat on the shoulder with a nod as he moved past him. He needed to fix Madeleine’s quite pitiful fire and begin cooking, he also needed to get away from Madeleine before he noticed just how flustered Dark Choco was getting.

After gathering some more wood to fuel Madeleine’s quite pitiful fire Dark Choco skewered and began cooking. Madeleine, of course, quickly started talking his ear off. He talked about anything and everything, what he dreamed of, how he slept, where to adventure to next, a grand story about himself, the weather, his family, so on so forth, and Dark Choco listened to every word. Perhaps he could take Madeleine to the Hollyberry kingdom next. He used to go there with his father when he was young, and from the little he remembered it was warm and bustling. Perfect for Madeleine. His mind began to wander once more. The Hollyberry kingdom is also quite known for its romance. The kingdom and many beautiful spots and plenty of dances for lovers to attend. He thought about how Madeleine would look in a nice tailored suit. He had only seen him in thick coats and layers, the picture of him in something more proper and fancy with his hair all done up made his cheeks begin to burn again. His thoughts continued as he imagined them dancing together in a ballroom, they’d be so close that he could count the faint freckles across Madeleine’s face, and he’d hold his hand as they danced. Dark Chocos was suddenly snapped out of his fantasies by madeleine calling his name.

“Hey! Dark Chocooo?”

He was suddenly aware of how hot his face felt.

“Ah-.. yes?”

“Are you alright? You looked out of it and your face is red.”

Madeleine looked concerned and Dark Choco was horribly embarrassed.

“… I’m fine. Forgive me.”

He shouldn’t be thinking about Madeleine like that anyway. They are friends and nothing more. Why would he imagine such a scenario in the first place? Despite Dark Chocos (admittedly poor) reassurance, Madeleine still looked concerned with his eyebrows knitted together.

“If something is troubling you, you can tell me!”

He put a hand on his chest as he spoke. He did that quite often, Dark Choco had noticed. It was a kind of cute quirk.

“.. Thank you, but I am fine..”

Dark Choco gave him a small smile to try and reassure him. Though Madeleine still seemed a bit suspicious, he dropped it. Dark Choco must have zoned out longer than he realized because the food was now fully cooked.

As they ate Dark Choco did his best to keep his thoughts in line as he listened to Madeleine blabber. Dark Choco gave scattered responses here and there but ultimately Madeleine was the one holding up most of the conversation, but that was fine. He liked listening to him talk, even if it was about nothing. Dinner went quick with the help of mindless chatter. Madeleine leaned back, stretching out his arms above his head.

“I think I’m going to go to bed early tonight.”

As he got up to head to his tent Dark Choco impulsively called out to him.

“Wait..! Uh.. If you want-…”

He bit his tongue and cursed himself for acting out again, Madeleine was going to be the death of him. He debated continuing, but he had already said too much and the confused look from Madeleine made him feel bad.

“Uhm.. If you are still cold… you could sleep with me in my tent tonight… It is more built for colder weather than yours is.. I assume..”

He felt more and more embarrassed as he forced himself to speak but a soft smile from Madeleine eased his nerves.

“I’d appreciate that.”

His voice was calm and quiet, it wasn’t often he heard Madeleine speak without his boisterous persona. Dark Choco savored it.

“… You can get yourself situated. I’m going to put out the fire.. then I’ll join you..”

Madeleine nodded and went to gather his things from his tent. Dark Choco did his best to quickly put out the fire, he’s never been more excited for bed. As he finished snuffing out the last bit of flames all he could think about was Madeleine waiting for him in his tent. It felt like an eternity until all the embers were out, but he was finally finished. Anxiously, he unzipped the tent and entered.

Madeleine sat on top of a small futon, slightly turned away from the opening of the tent brushing out his hair. Dark Choco hadn’t really seen all of Madeleines hair, as it was usually tucked into his coat to keep it from blowing everywhere. It was shockingly long, spilling out onto the floor all around him. It was pretty. Dark Choco watched silently as a the brush easily guided through long straight hair. Both sides of his bangs were out and perfectly framed his face, stopping right above his cheek bones. He seemed to be in his own world, with his eyes closed as he methodically brushed through his hair. The light cream color of his hair had a soft orange glow to it from a small lantern set by their sleeping bags. The dim light also hit his face perfectly, highlighting his long lashes. Dark Choco felt his heart beat quicken at how breathtaking he was. Eventually Dark Choco found his voice.

“Are you comfortable?”

Madeleine peaked over at him and smiled.

“Yes! You were right, it’s certainly less cold in here!”

Dark Choco couldn’t help but smile back, happy that he was comfortable.

In the corner of the tent was his borrowed cloak, along side Madeleine’s heavier layers. They were all folded up neatly next to eachother. Dark Choco followed suit and began removing his extra layers as well, setting them by the other clothes before sitting on his futon by Madeleine. It almost felt domestic, their clothes neatly laid next to each other as they sat together getting ready for bed. It was nice, it was comfortable. Dark Choco covered himself with his blanket and layed back onto his bed, closing his eyes and folding his hands over his stomach as he listened to the sound of Madeleine brushing his hair. He felt relaxed and he basked in it, he could probably fall asleep right then. After a while of brushing and the occasional hum from Madeleine he could hear shuffling as he got under his covers and clicked the lantern off. Dark Choco was began to doze off but the sudden sound of shuffling from Madeleine twisting and turning in his bed alerted him back awake. This became a cycle, almost asleep, woken up by shuffling, quiet, almost asleep, shuffling. He wasn’t sure how long this lasted but it was becoming bothersome.

“Madeleine.”

The movement abruptly stopped.

“…Dark Choco…”

“What are you doing..?”

There was a pause, Madeleine was a bit embarrassed from being called out.

“…Forgive me, but even though your tent is better than mine it is still quite cold and it’s making it a bit hard to fall asleep.”

Dark Choco hesitated for a moment, biting his cheek as he thought. Finally, he built up the courage and lifted his blanket up as an invitation.

“…Come lay with me then.. sharing body heat is good for keeping warm…”

He held his breath as a he nervously waited for a reply. Madeleine said nothing as he slowly got up and crawled under Dark Choco’s covers. Madeleine quickly made himself comfortable, laying his head against Dark Choco’s chest and wrapping his arm around his middle. A sigh of relief came from Dark Choco as he covered them up with the blanket and circled an arm around Madeleine. His heart felt its burst out of his chest. Madeleine could probably hear it thumping in his chest too, which was maybe a little embarrassing but he was far too happy to care. This was all he wanted for so long, just to be able to hold him and be close, and he finally had it. He squeezed Madeleine a little, earning him a quiet chuckle. Dark Choco could melt.

“Let’s start traveling somewhere different. I’m sick of this frozen hellscape.”

Dark Choco laughed as Madeleine complained.

“…How about the Hollyberry kingdom?”

Madeleine thought for a moment.

“That sounds nice.”

[phoenixcatch7]

Deep in my ff7 rereads so here are my favourite fandom fics, hands down.

End as you mean to begin <- 130k+ of time travelling cloud parenting the remnants, seeking asylum in a war torn wutai to keep all four of them out of shinras hands while sephiroth is absolutely Going Through It in midgar. Great Genesis characterisation and cloud mothering his way to an international incident. Bonus gender hijinks, hilarious misunderstandings and zack. Unfinished.

The fear of falling stars <- 500k+ and soon to be completed. Cloud and insane!Sephiroth time travel back to their shinra days and I cannot emphasise enough how much cloud is Not Doing Well. Gorgeous wordplay and top tier banter. Utterly unhinged blood enemies to ??? to ?????? to lovers sefikura. It's E rated and probably the tensest I've ever been reading fic lol, it is not lighthearted! But it's incredibly well written and the characters are phenomenal (zack my beloved) so if you've got strong nerves (and like a quarantine pairing) I'd definitely recommend it.

Voice of the gods <- 170k+ of almost idyllic gods and avatars au. Slow, soft and full of world building, it's a lovely relaxing read of cloud getting anointed the envoy of sephiroth, god of war, and slowly growing into his role and joining the ranks of envoy. Lots of side characters take larger roles here, and sephiroth himself is a darling without losing his sharpest edges. Unfinished.

I CAN FIX HIM (series) <- possibly my favourite sephiroth characterisations ever. 130k and growing of pure shaking this man like a doll in a perfect mix of almost delirious crack and gutting angst (often both at once!). Very good writing, every single funny moment hits like a truck and keeps building until you're choking with laughter. Bonus points to ROADTRIP! for being utterly, utterly insane. I cannot emphasise enough just how GOOD every single character and their dynamics are written.

Just anything ff7 written by AimeeLouWrites, if you've been in this fandom for any length of time you'll have heard of her. Great concepts, great executions and aus for DAYS.

Five hearts to make him whole <- 130k+ of time/dimension travelling cloud getting sent to a world of soulmates - and his alternate self bagged all four soldier firsts. Alternate cloud also died violently a few years ago and boy did those soulmates (not) take it well. Our cloud, of course, was not read in on any of this. Shout out to the emotional support chocobo! Unfinished?

Shall I find rest <- another soulmate agszc (?) dimension cross but this one is 100k+ of post AC cloud and Tifa waking up and deciding to make it everyone else's problem. They're so done with all the drama. Bamf nibel duo to the end and Tifa is the mvp. Unfinished.

Advanced release <- 250k+ and it's sephiroth receiving the original game in a strange packet that appeared in his room. It spirals into a messy and painful exposure of conspiracy, lies and inevitable tragedy. Video game logic is a running gag and zack remains the only actually stable person in the whole sorry mess but he's also Having a Terrible Experience. Really well written!!! Unfinished.

On broken wings <- 160k+ of pure post AC sephiroth redemption from his pov. Him struggling to find his place in a new world and experience real human connection evolves into MOOGLE EMBASSY need I say more?? Unfinished.

With Great Power Comes Meddling Fucking Gods <- 470k+! Poly WEAPON cloud gets yoinked back to the past (feat agzs), dies for a few days and misses his family SO bad but he is determined to change the future for the better. Probably the most healthy and mature cloud ever lol. Unfortunately for him, insane!sephiroth is pulling a inner hollow and gaia herself isn't talking. If you like symbolism, whoo boy!! The dream sequences are a DOOZY (and drowning in eroticism). Wonderfully written, the divide between sane!sephiroth and his counterpart is really cool to see. E rated at times but it's absolutely DELIGHTFUL and WEAPON cloud is such a treat. And I cannot emphasise enough the symbolism. Zackkura (kinda) and slow burn! Unfinished.

A brand need not be seen <- 180k+ in a world of soulmates where the four firsts have clouds name on their wrists. Trooper cloud is tentatively, desperately hopeful. Then a smoking hot op af adult cloud appears, with no names on his wrists at all. It's a really cute flirty fic despite covering shinra politics, identity crises, huge self worth issues, lots of trauma, and finding your own place in the world. Unfinished.

Memory's struggle <- 250k+ of cascading time travel. Basically everyone goes back, which goes great XD. Everyone... Except cloud. I read this a while ago but I do remember poor cloud just getting loved and spoiled by literally everyone and freaking out about it lmao. He was so confused! Unfinished.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Okay, imma be real? I think this fandom gets way too upset over characterization differences between books (this'll be a long one just let me explain).

I see a lot of posts in the WOF fandom about how certain characters got ruined in the next books or how their characterizations were completely screwed over. A lot of posts also are like, "Oh, Tui messed up X character in this book so badly!" Or "All their personality has changed in this book, what happened to my favorite character?" and so on like that.

This kind of thing, ESPECIALLY after rereading the series recently, then coming back to the fandom, pisses me off to NO END for a couple of reasons.

1. Tui wasn't "ruining" your favorite characters personality in the next book, because the focus of the next book wasn't the character in question. The spotlight is on another character entirely, and trying to micromanage THAT many personalities to their truest form is INCREDIBLY difficult.

2. Plotting out character personalities is a GRUELING process, coming from someone who does a lot of writing. ESPECIALLY if it's original characters, because then you can't just pull from fandom or canon, you gotta do that shit yourself. And over the course of the canon, their personality is gonna change!

This brings me to my last point and probably the biggest reason:

3. EVERY BOOK IS FROM A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE.

This has been a STAPLE of the Wings of Fire books from the VERY BEGINNING. With every new book, we as readers are jumping from one dragon's mental space to the next, learning about their traits and quirks and how they perceive the world around them, every single time we pick up the next book in the series. It's what helps give us those deeper insights into the characters that yall get so angry about when they aren't immediately represented in the next book, when that dragon is no longer our spotlight.

Also, when we are learning about the other dragons before we jump to their perspectives, the character that we are reading about is already making assumptions and assigning traits that they think correlate with the character in question! We are seeing the world through their eyes and thoughts, so when we move to another perspective, that dragon is doing the exact same thing, even though now we know more about one of the other characters!

And then the fandom gets hissy when the first character gets relegated into the background and assigned some base personality traits, even though that's exactly what happened before.

Personally, I think the ones who suffer from this the MOST are Clay in Arc 1 and Moon in Arc 2. Clay, according to fans, gets boiled down to nothing but his love for food, even though we see in his, Sunny's, and Peril's perspectives that he's more than that. His behaviors also directly correlate to why he gets that kind of background trait (although that's a whole other rant), and every time I see someone saying that Clay got screwed over by characterization, I take psychic damage.

And Moon. God, yall, Moon gets it THE WORST FROM YOU. I've seen SO MANY POSTS about how she got boiled down to nothing but a love triangle piece in the later arcs, which is only partly true, but we also see from ALL OF THOSE PERSPECTIVES (Qibli and Winter specifically) that the traits they're assigning her are both different aspects of how her character worked in the first book and what two lovestruck, moons-blinded dumbasses are seeing and choosing to view her as.

Her book even SHOWS how much of a NIGHTMARE it would be to have every character be deep and know their inner thoughts at all times. Moon herself gets mentally and physically overwhelmed near CONSTANTLY during the majority of her book, and I'm not even technically factoring in Darkstalkers' influence.

All of that to say, Wings of Fire fandom, is to stop losing your SHIT over how your characters might seem flat or not like they were in their books. All of these perspectives are different, and if you motherfuckers actually took some time to reread the books while actively LOOKING for those hints of your silly guys being the same silly guys, just from another dragon's POV, then maybe yall wouldn't be so pissed off about characterization in the books nearly HALF as often.

I don't even care how much discourse this is gonna spark I just felt the incredible urge to tell yall to use those skills you learned in English class and chill the FUCK OUT on this topic.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Now go use your eyes :>

.

[sicklyworm]

hello your taste in characters is so cool and based i LOVE shang qinghua. i was wondering what ur thoughts r on his relationship with shen qingqiu as portrayed in the books and in canon?

i feel like even tho they have great scenes together, we don't get all that much interaction between the two so its easy to miss key details about how exactly their dynamic works.

like, in fanfiction i often find that writers tend to write shen qingqiu as like Incredibly antagonist towards shang qinghua or they're the bestest friends in the entire world and neither of those feel quite right, but otherwise getting their relationship accurate seems to be kinda tough.

Oh dear moot thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about this!

My thoughts on cannon Cumplane:

SQH and SQQ's friendship mostly stems from circumstance.

Both of them are modern men in a ancient fantasy world with little to no connection too there past lives. They both have to act out the strict standards of ancient chinese culture while on the inside both of them are brain rotted netizens.

So having another transmigrator who they can unmask with and be able to say all the shit they can't elsewhere is probably super cathartic!

They do like pestering and annoying each other in cannon. But rather than interpreting this as animosity i believe this is just another sign of them cutting loose and being more authentic than they usually can be.

Now this not to say they are ride or dies. Both of them have things they prioritize over there friendship and that's okay! They can have a good friendship without being all super loyal and dramatic about it.

Honestly it would be OCC if SQH suddenly stopped be a slimy rat bastard because he was circumstance buddies with SQQ. And with how thin SQQ's face is it would be SUPER OCC for him to declaring they were besties lol.

Also side note about SQQ being portrayed as antagonistic in fanfiction:

Many people find SQH relatable and get really defensive about his character because of that. I can easily understand someone misinterpreting there dynamic as hostile and getting super defensive and start character bashing SQQ because of that.

We all love our favorite characters but it's important to keep a level of separation in mind when writing!

Extra:

I was rereading the books to make sure my brain wasn't getting things mixed up and I realized that most of the time SQH is the one doing the pestering in cannon. Yes SQQ does go on his little tirades about PIDW but with his face being so thin and SQH being so shameless it's usually SQQ at the butt of the jokes!

[dollgxtz]

Question or maybe 2, bc i’m getting confused and curious at the same time.

1. What does this part mean “And when the time came, when he shattered that delicate illusion, it would be on his terms.”, wdym on his terms? I doubt he would hurt her physically, does it mean more emotionally? Bc she is trying to be the master, but gets played as a puppet by yan!sylus bc he reads through her. So yea I’m kinda confused :’)

2. What if she never accepted the ring? Yes she would not go outside the room, but what would’ve happened?

3. I may missed this or misunderstood, but why did she decide to play nice to yan!sylus while accepting the proposal? It was never stated she would love him. It was just accept the ring in exchange for some freedom.

Sorry i have so many questions and tend to reread the previous story bc i miss important details every time 🎐

Hi anon!! Don’t apologize, hopefully this explanation will break things down for you in a way that makes sense!

“And when the time came, when he shattered that delicate illusion, it would be on his terms.”

This line means that Yan!Sylus is fully aware of the reader’s attempt to manipulate him, and he’s choosing to play along because he wants to control the outcome (and he lowkey is desperate for her to mean it when she says she trusts him, etc so even if it’s a trick, he can’t help but play along). By saying it would be “on his terms,” he’s waiting for the right moment to reveal that he’s been aware of her ruse all along. He wants to be the one to decide when the illusion breaks, as he feels it’ll be the most effective in reminding her whose in charge.

What if she never accepted the ring?

If she hadn’t accepted the ring, she would’ve been confined solely to the room still. He would’ve been absolutely devastated as well. Yan!Sylus would probably have tightened his control and privileges further, and kept asking her until she accepted. He sees her resistance as a temporary setback that he can wear down with time, patience, and manipulation :)

Why did she decide to play nice to Sylus when accepting the proposal?

The decision to play nice and accept the proposal was strategic for her. She realized that pretending to go along with Yan!Sylus’s desires would give her some level of freedom, and she’s using this as an opportunity to observe her surroundings and potentially plan an escape! She wasn’t suddenly in love with him or committed to him; she was simply trying to survive by manipulating him into giving her small freedoms. This is purely self-preservation and a way to gain any semblance of control, thus hopefully making a way for her to escape again ^^

I really recommend rereading the last few chapters to get a better understanding! 🤍

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Do you have any Rizzles fic recommendations?

Sure! I have a lot of fave stories; I like to read a lot of fic. I’m going to do five that were completed during the run of Rizzoli & Isles, and five that were finished/written after the show ended.

During the show’s run:

1. The Commitment - possibly my fave of all time. A fake dating story, of course. Delightfully angsty, brilliantly paced. Terse and so utterly complete.

2. The Beautiful Lie - another angsty, dirty one. I really love how this author can balance emotion and humor. Their dialogue is so real and engrossing.

3. Sugar and Spice - the French patisserie AU I never knew I needed. It’s just so sweet and soft and full of longing. I love it.

4. Island Fire - you know those books that are popular right now on BookTok and such for being 🌶️ spicy 🌶️? This is like that for rizzles. Big, excellent romance novel energy.

5. Crosswords and Coffee - my favorite Jane realizes fic. Soulful.

Post-show:

1. Warm Milk - holy cow is this good. Gut-wrenching and so, so well done. Sexy and adult.

2. To Charlotte with Love - this fic’s plot centers around a true crime podcast, and it reads like one. Fascinating! Great! And the love story is excellent, too.

3. Her Crumbling Preservation - (unfinished) Christ this is so raw and sexy. Also written by my best friend 🙄. It hurts so good, you know?

4. Growth Chart - probably my fave kid fic! And the rizzles romance makes me 🥹

5. When in Our Music - (unfinished) this tickles my lapsed-religious heart. The longing is out of this world. And god the prose is so good it makes me jealous. This art pushes me to be better, all the time!

[sysig]

Permission to headbutt: Granted (Patreon)

[yuseirra]

what the heck are you up to...

[necrotic-nephilim]

what are your favourite batcest ships and why?

AAA i love this question so much. i'm going to limit myself to a top five, because otherwise, i'd just end up listing all of them. the true joy of batcest is they're all so good for such different reasons and there are so many unique dynamics you can explore.

JayTim - it's funny bc, before i started this blog, i don't know if i would've put these two losers as my number one. but because i've done so much deep diving into their dynamic and i write them the most, i think it'd be a disservice for them to be anything *but* number one. their canon dynamic is just. so fun to play with. i truly love all of their interactions, particularly pre-Flashpoint. the concepts of Tim holding such contempt for Jason while Jason is weirdly obsessed with Tim. i'm a fan of Hannibal and Killing Eve and well. if this isn't a Hannigram-coded ship idk *what* is. i like ships where love and hate co-exist and there's no real "happily ever after", just fucked up co-existing, where they crawl back to each other like a bad habit and really, this ship is that so perfectly. the themes of jealousy in the Robin mantle. Tim wearing Jason's Red Robin suit to punish himself. i will likely never shut up about them. even in the New-52, there's such a substance to them, though the dynamic is wildly different. they will always be so weirdly dependent on each other's existence. i love them.

BruDick - you can't outdo the doer, i fear. i think i like BruDick mostly for the history of it, yk. there's genuinely *so much* queer history seeped into the homoeroticism of Batman and Robin, these two have been a symbol for queer people for decades. but the ship itself has so many dynamics i love. problematic age gap, "are we family or lovers", "i can't be in a room alone with you without getting into a screaming match but if you called i drop everything for you". all of it. i especially favor 80s/90s BruDick when they were in their divorce era just because it's so messy. Dick has canonically said he would die for Bruce, even during their arguments. no matter what, these two will always be single-mindedly devoted to each other. there will be other Robins, but none of them will compare to Dick Grayson, for Bruce. it's a unique and complicated bond that has endless layers to peel back. they always crawl back to each other bc no one else will match their level of intensity.

DamiTim - years and years ago, when i was a teen trying to people-please with how i existed in fandom, i used to insist i didn't like batcest and found it icky and gross. but there was one DamiTim fic that was my exception. that fic was my fucking roman empire. i reread it like once a year even though it's not completed and likely never will be i do not care. so now that i've killed the morality police in my head and i let myself ship what i actually want to ship, this ship holds a top place in my heart just bc of that fic alone. but in general i do fucking love their dynamic. similar to JayTim there's just so much mutual hatred in these two that has endless potential. Damian's insistence to not see Tim as a Wayne and as a legitimate brother/heir to Bruce is something you can play a lot if you give Damian an angry, fucked up crush on Tim he doesn't want to admit to. they have so many reasons to dislike each other, so to try to get them to slowly fall in love is a fun challenge. they either have a long complicated forgiveness arc and end up a happy married couple or they are the couple that tries to kill each other once a week. no in-between.

JeanTim - there's like. one person here on tumblr who goes as hard for this ship as i do and truly god bless them bc they feed me. Jean-Paul is too underrated in the batcest scene. once i reread Knightfall, i will have to help popular this tag on ao3. i enjoy both a very fucked up version of this ship during the peak of the Knightfall arc, where Jean-Paul is deep in his murder Batman era and Tim is trying to stop him to no real avail, but i *also* think there's so much you can do with the ship afterwards, where Jean-Paul is trying to make up for what he's done and be a better person and better hero. they're the peak Batman/Robin ship, to me. they truly care about each other, but have a very complicated/bloody history and i just. man i love it so dearly. i've been meaning to write a fic where Jean-Paul goes to Tim post the Sword of Azrael (2022) arc to properly discuss and apologize for all his actions in Knightfall for his personal healing and they end up fucking. it could be sweet and cute or kinky fun bc what is the joy of a character with that much Catholic guilt if you don't give them a weird religious kink.

BruCarrie - The Dark Knight Returns got me into comics and i will defend it till the day i die. Carrie Kelley can be pried from my cold dead hands. i just really love these two? Carrie took one look at that cranky old bastard and decided she was his problem. and Bruce is at a stage where he should be very averse to the idea of having a Robin, he knows it's a bad idea. but he just. accepts her anyway. idk how to explain their dynamic other than she plunks herself in his lap and stitches up his wounds while telling him he's an idiot and he lets her even if he's grumbling about it. they have the biggest age gap of any Batman/Robin ship and for that, they should get like. a dead dove gold star no matter how rare the pair is.

also honorable mention goes to BruTim, because *god* do i love the concept of Tim offering himself up to Bruce as Robin in every way, knowing that there are likely sexual/romantic implications to being Robin. it's one of my favorite flavors of batcest to exist. i don't view them as a "happily ever after" ship, because Bruce will always go back home to Dick, but it's a fun lil dead dove moment.

[crystallizsch]

WAKE UP IT’S THE FINAL STRETCH OF WHITE RABBIT FEST 🗣️🗣️🗣️

MY BOYS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

look at ortho my boy that evil lil grin in a cute rabbit costume i want 20 of him

look at epel my boy that unhinged look in a rabbit costume i want like 22 of him

deuce my beloved he's so precious he's so COMMITTED i want like 50 of him

"how nice to be woken by my friends' voices" SILVERRRR YOU'RE SO ADORABLE i need like 99 of him

MAMA AND DEUCE SPADE ARE MAKING ME TEAR UP I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

happy and healthy parent-child relationships my beloved

DEUCEYYY HE'S SO CUTE WITH THE SPECTACLES

committing to my memory banks that epel canonically says “oh my stars” unironically

i love ortho so much it’s so fun seeing him being as mischievous as the rest of the first years

i love how mama spade just played along with lying about deuce being cauldron duke 😭😭😭

also how did epel buy this??? 😭😭😭 mama spade be very convincing

actually you know what i dont blame epel i’d believe anything she says

deuce my beloved -

also did i ever mention how much i love the first years (+ silver)?

[every-sanji]

[good-to-drive]

Abuse, Silence, And Why Kevin Can Fuck Himself

I recently finished watching Kevin Can Fuck Himself on Netflix, and, aside from being the most brutally honest portrayal of domestic abuse I have ever seen, I discovered a beautifully written examination of narrative as power and silence as abuse and how this manifests in our larger culture. 

Without going into too much detail, the show is filmed in two distinct styles that are interleaved throughout each episode to tell a cohesive story. Allison and Kevin’s relationship as seen by the rest of the world is told through a multi-cam, laugh-track sitcom that depicts a very typical “goofy husband, shrewish wife” mainstream comedy. Allison’s life through her own eyes is told through a single-cam drama/thriller about Allison planning to murder Kevin to escape his abuse. 

It’s an absolute masterclass in screenwriting, but more than that, every episode explores the difference between truth, fact, and reality, and how none of these things are quite as much or as little as story. But while the process of transforming the chaotic and plotless reality of life into a story is as involuntary and essential as breathing, misogyny and the degradation of women is just as ubiquitous in our society, and a story that exists at the expense of another person’s lived reality is a refutation of their humanity. 

It's also just a great show for anyone who likes to engage with history (or reality TV or true crime or “real life stories” in general), because while we have to tell ourselves stories about her own lives, we have to tell ourselves stories about other people as well. Eternal silence is narrative death, and the perpetual silence of an unspoken narrative is often the last death we can visit on someone whose story we’d rather ignore. 

I also pulled up some books – Lolita and Disgrace – that dealt with similar themes, but from the perspective of the abuser. And what strikes me the most is that, across three beautifully written stories about narrative and silence within a culture that normalizes abuse, Allison, who began her story within a state of narrative death, was the only point-of-view character who had any chance of surviving. 

One of the main themes of Kevin is that a compelling story is often a story that reinforces what we already believe or like to believe, and while the story may be factual and true it often also exists at the expense of someone's lived reality. The exact same series of events can be a silly joke or a harrowing tale of abuse depending on the lens through which we view it, but historically we've only been willing to see the multicam, laugh track, sitcom perspective on unbalanced relationships.

The alchemical process of turning a series of disjoint facts and experiences into a narrative creates something new and compelling, and erases much of what previously existed. In this way, it’s entirely irreversible. We spin our experiences into a very thin thread, a story we can tell ourselves that elicits something within us, something we need in order to live with the complex, uncertain, and unsatisfying reality of life. In think in many ways the thing we elicit in ourselves is truth. But truth is both more and less than fact, often more a reflection of our own beliefs and desires than the events of our lives. And in telling that truth we may never stray from the facts, but we almost by definition cannot give voice to another person’s reality.

There's a scene in season 2 of Kevin when Allison is hit by a door – a la the classic excuse – because of Kevin’s carelessness. And while he absolutely did not hit her, the way it's written is such an incredible allegory for how Kevin has curated their story and curated their friends' and family’s perceptions of their story such that even if she tells everyone the exact, unvarnished truth of what's happening to her and begs for help, they will only be capable of seeing the laugh-track, sitcom, “Kevin is a harmless goofball and his wife is a total shrew” perspective on the events of their lives. 

As so often happens with abuse, their friends and family saw Allison being hurt because of Kevin. But the alchemy of creating a narrative around Kevin and Allison is irreversible, and the series of events they witness can only be spun together to a joke, an accident, a silly, childish mistake. Allison’s reality, Allison’s pain and fear, is completely elided. Like a lost sound in the middle of a sentence, her experience goes silent, and their larger understanding of her relationship never has to change. And you feel so acutely how Allison lives her entire life in that silence. 

Storytelling is human, it’s essential, there’s no other way to engage with our own lives. And it’s not lying. It’s never lying to tell the truth. But it doesn’t reflect every reality, either, because another person’s reality can’t be reflected within our own narrative, because that’s what it means to be another person. To spin two different threads.

And because narrative is the essential process by which we understand our reality, denying someone their own narrative, or denying that this narrative be heard, is inherently abusive. To allow someone a voice is to give them humanity, and to suppress it is to strip that humanity away. 

Disgrace, by J.M. Coetzee, follows the story of a professor, David, who rapes a student and then fails to protect his daughter, Lucy, from being raped by intruders in their home. He destroys his daughter’s life  – not through failing to protect her, but through twisting her rape into a story about why the rape of his student wasn’t wrong. The main theme of the book is generally considered to be exploitation, but Coetzee doesn’t deal with the exploitation of the rape. That’s too direct, too immediate, too easy for the reader to understand as misogynistic and wrong. Rather, Coetzee delves into “the innocuous-seeming use of another person to fill one's gentler emotional needs” (Ruden).

The rape is how we understand David as a fundamentally exploitative person, a person who denies others their humanity by converting them into a vessel for his own desires, who erases their voice in order to speak through them and give himself the things he needs. And that’s how we recognize that the way he absorbs and claims the stories of his daughter and his student is another kind of violation of their humanity. Another way of turning women into vessels for men’s pain and fear and need. 

What’s fascinating is that David's student finds her voice – files a complaint against him – and is eventually able to continue with her life. The woman he raped is less damaged by him than his own daughter, because she was the woman he couldn’t permanently silence. 

In Lolita, another brilliant novel about abuse, dehumanization, and storytelling, Humbert turns to the reader at the end and says, “Imagine us, reader, for we don’t really exist if you don’t.” 

It’s not that Humbert knew he was fictional, but that he knew everyone was fictional. Believed the entire world only truly existed in his own mind, because anything beyond that was irrelevant to his needs. He coped with the collapse of his ability to dehumanize Dolores (who he called Lolita) by demanding that his voice be resurrected. Demanding immortality. Demanding his narrative exist in another person’s world, and thereby be given the existence and humanity that Allison and Dolores and Lucy and David’s student were denied. 

Pushing his needs, finally, onto the reader, because we are the only person he has left, and a person like him can only exist through the use of another. In that way, Humbert was powerless. In that way, Kevin and David were powerless, too.

In Disgrace, David’s dream is to write an opera, and at the end of the book he realizes he’ll never finish his magnum opus. He’ll never be able to terminate the process of converting himself, his world, into a story. But he does learn to decenter himself in that narrative. And it’s when he loses all fear of death, and any conception of the self, that he gains the ability to give dogs – who he generally equates to women – a voice within his opera, his life’s work. 

It’s in death that we discover our true unimportance as human beings, that we learn to let go of vanity and our conception of the self entirely. And David had degraded women so thoroughly in order to justify how he used them to meet his own emotional needs that it was only in losing all value for his own life that he could gain the ability to see them as equal voices. To actually put those voices into his own life story. It's at the cost of himself that he allows other people to truly exist, in the death of the self that he finally allows the world to exist outside of himself. It’s almost a positive character arc. Almost.

When Kevin finally loses the ability to abuse Allison, he, like many abusers, loses all desire to live. His world was built on a structure of superiority and inferiority, on beings and vessels, on the inherent value of men and the inherent meaninglessness of women’s lives. The system on which he based his entire reality has been destroyed by Allison’s declaration of the self. And, if he was a being because she was a vessel, then in losing the ability to treat her as a vessel, to fully and completely dehumanize her, he has lost his own humanity. 

It may be perfectly summed up here: “Become major. Live like a hero. That's what the classics teach us. Be a main character. Otherwise, what is life for?” (Coetzee).

If you’re not to be a main character, if there indeed is no split between major and minor characters, between people and the paper dolls that populate their story, between living beings and the vessels into which they pour their need – what is life for?

Nothing. At least, not for people whose narrative must exist at the expense of another. 

And that’s why I say that only a narrator like Allison could survive this kind of story. Despite beginning her story trapped in eternal silence, her reality fully elided no matter how immediate and obvious it became, Allison was the only point-of-view character of any of these three stories who didn’t establish her power through the degradation of another. Who didn’t conceptualize the world via being and vessels. Whose narrative didn’t exist, by necessity, at the expense of another person’s humanity. Whose thread could exist in a larger tapestry without destroying her sense of self.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s not generally a likable character. She’s misogynistic, cruel, selfish, jealous, desperate, afraid, and in pain. Like anyone in an abusive relationship, she’s not at her best, and she’s often pushed to do things that are ugly and disturbing because she’s simply been pushed too far. 

But, for me, the power in her character is in how her last scene never felt like a final scene. Her story didn’t have to be killed, her conception of the self didn’t have to be killed, in order to reveal the brutal reality of stories twisting and intertwining without any inherently superior truth or narrative among them. Allison’s story was one of declaring herself. And that’s why it didn’t feel like it ended at the end. Instead, this felt like a beginning.

[andromeda3116]

rereading order of the stick (again), and greyiew is only in a few comics so far but man do i love this nihilistic wolf

[uncanny-tranny]

When I see people doing the things they love (especially if it's in an unconventional way) I find myself thinking I want to love the way you do

I don't know, it just feels like a privilege to be able to see the way we love and the way we love. I think my point in making this is twofold:

The way you love is absolutely ethereal, and there are people who will notice the way you love and love you for it, even if it is a stranger who will never see you again. You are remembered fondly. You are remembered, and you are eternal.