#I think my intense fixation with AM caused this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashessonfire · 1 year

Note

listen here, you DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO RIP MY HEART OUT OF MY CHEST AND THROW IT IN THE MUD AND STAMP ON IT WITH THAT LATEST KAZ FIC OF YOURS, GET IT? I'm completely… devastated. I never asked you for anything, please do a part two, I BEG YOU!

ps: darling, you write very well ♡

'Forgotten' Part two - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt: Kaz slowly begins to remember your relationship, but what good is that if he has already tossed you aside? Can the Bastard of the Barrel save the one thing he truly loves?

You can find the first part of 'Forgotten' here!

- Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (established relationship) - Warnings: A lot of angst, nothing too graphic, lots of emotion coming from Kaz + his crows, so much sadness, dont worry too much though ... :)

A/N: The amount of requests for this have been insane, once again i truly love each one of you, my heart is so full. I hope this is a good ending for the first part, im very happy with how it turned out!! P.S I am so sorry for the pain i seemed to have caused with the first post T-T ════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Glimpses of you tormented Kaz, plaguing his every thought. His mind seemingly fixated on the one person he had deserted out of pure spite.

It had been two weeks since you were outcast, and Kaz had prayed to the Saints that it would relieve him of the weight gripping his heart, ever since his memory was ripped away from him. Yet they seemed to laugh in his face, spitting back a far more excruciating punishment for his actions.

Returning his memories.

The second you had left his office, tears spilling as they swirled in your shining eyes, Kaz had felt something deep stirring within him, something resembling dread. Since then, he had begged any higher being for relief as realisation began to flood his senses, engulfing his every thought and action.

Wounds scattered his already battered heart, with the rest of the crows seeming to crush it further each day. Ever since you had slipped carefully crafted letters under each of your friend’s doors, you had melted into the shadows of Ketterdam, not a single trace of your presence left behind.

You knew Kaz ultimately wasn’t to blame, yet the scars he had painted onto your soul were excruciating, physically pushing you away from him to escape further agony. You too, prayed to the Saints that your boyfriend, or perhaps ex-boyfriend, would regain what he had lost, and remember you as his lover.

Wind swept through your hair, salt spraying your glowing features as you sailed towards Ravka, choosing to allow the breeze to blow your pain along the wind, and back to Ketterdam. Pushing Kaz to the furthest corner of your mind, you stepped off the ladder onto Ravkan soil, determined to reap the benefits of your misfortune rather than wallow in them.

Taking the outstretched hand of a grinning sailor, you allowed the warmth of his smile and the welcoming of the group around you to bathe you in some sort of content.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

It seemed as if your prayers had worked, as each day wracked Kaz with a new memory or emotion, each one undeniably interlinked with you. His feelings overtook him, spewing out in rageful fits or harsh punishments for anyone daring to cross him, deepening the rift forming between the boss and his crows.

The moment each crow had read your letter, it instantly clicked into place what had happened, despite your deliberate attempts to remain vague about the exchange which had stolen you from them.

Sitting in Jesper’s room, the crew remained sullen, intense emotions clouding the air, becoming unbearable. The suffocating atmosphere was fractured when Nina suddenly burst out, “I am going to kill him. I warned him to be gentle, yet he pushed my attempts aside, and now...this. The hit could have been hard enough to at least remove some of his stubbornness.”

Nina huffed, rage coursing through her blood at Kaz’s actions, had she not been clear enough? “He can’t just send her away, can he? I mean, I didn’t think he would have it in him to do that, even before those two got together,” Jesper seethed, confusion lacing his voice but an unmistakable anger matching Nina’s.

Wylan remained silent, picking at the rotting wood of the floorboards, too overwhelmed at the loss of you to comprehend his emotions. Inej similarly remained quiet, eyes fluttering shut as she soundlessly prayed to each Saint that you would return, and Kaz would finally see sense.

Despite the varied reactions to their boss’s stupidity, a common thread held them closely together, pain. To each one of them you meant the world, a prevailing light penetrating through the dreary Barrel life which often consumed its inhabitants.

You lit up the darkness of the ruthless city, aiding Jesper in amusing pranks often against Kaz, in which you would take the blame for, knowing deep down Kaz could never hold it against you.

You consoled Wylan when whisps of his past would haunt him, taking him on walks along the canal or making his favourite tea and taking in the views of Ketterdam from the rooftop. The warmth of the suns beams and your words washing away his nerves.

For the usually reserved wraith, you encouraged her confidence, easing her fear of touch in a similar way in which you helped Kaz. Around very few other people Inej could say she felt the same comfort and unconditional love that radiated from your mere presence. Nina could positively agree with how Inej felt, intensely missing her gossip companion and partner in crime. You knew every detail about her, and the rest of the crows, in a way nobody else could ever counter.

On the third week of your absence, the crows had seen very little of their leader, the few signs of his presence being the scraping of a chair in his office, or the beat of a cane on the panels of the Slat, indicating he was finally eating before walling himself up in his desolate isolation again.

Paperwork scattered Kaz’s desk, yet it remained as untouched as it was when he had exiled you. His days were spent calculating finances, unable to bring himself to plan a heist without you, with a distinct and vital element of his crew missing.

A sudden echo of weighted footsteps sounded outside of his door, their ascent bringing a chorus of hushed voices as the crows burst into his office. It had been days since they had last encountered their boss, his previous sighting confining him almost indefinitely to his room. It was in the early hours of the morning a few nights ago that he had finally emerged to gather some papers from the common room, when his attention snapped up to a sight that he was utterly unprepared to face.

Before him, by a fireplace laden with dim embers, sat Inej, Wylan, and Jesper, all three bearing cascading silver lines down their faces. Wylan’s breathing was ragged as he sobbed into Jespers chest, the sight of which triggering the other two. Realisation slammed into Kaz, knocking the breath out of his lungs, startling him with the intensity of emotion that welled up within him.

Not only had he destroyed the one true tenderness in his life, but he had also destroyed his closest friends too.

By this point, he had figured that he had long been captivated with you, and the most recent flashes of memory brought his relationship barreling down on him. Although patches were hazy, he had decoded exactly what he felt.

He was in love with you.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Before any of the group that had stumbled in could voice their opinions, the sight of their boss stunned them into silence.

Kaz remained hunched over his desk as always, but the ghostly paleness to his skin, the hollowed cheeks that protruded at sharp angles, and the grave circles etched underneath his reddened eyes deeply unsettled his crows. Nothing, not even Pekka Rollin’s greatest attempts to wound him, had ever resulted in Kaz Brekker’s complete and utter destruction.

Until now.

Inej quietly cleared her throat before courageously stating, “Kaz, we are going to find her. Not only are the Dregs seriously disadvantaged, but we also need her. Not just for jobs, even though you may not remember…” until she was cut of by a sharp voice.

Kaz’s head whipped up, glaring with a deathly warning at the people who stood before him. “I do remember,” he lashed out, voice deep and gravelly at the lack of use, “I remember everything now. You think I would have done that if I had known?”

His words echoed around the dim room, but it was something about Kaz’s face which caused the crows to collectively draw in their breath. A tear had freed itself from the confinement of his heart, snaking it was way down his ashen cheek, revealing to the group the torment he was being subject to by his own actions.

With a shaky hand, he procured a crumpled piece of paper from his waistcoat, holding it out to the group in a similar way in which he had done to you, the emotion in his chest pressing tightly against his lungs.

Jesper stepped forward cautiously, snatching it from his hands and unfolding the corners. The group peered over his shoulder to discover a meticulously thought-out plan to retrieve you from Ravka. Kaz glanced at the group, for the first time allowing them a glimpse of his true feelings, begging them silently to aid in his mission.

With a swift look to the others, they wordlessly agreed to Kaz’s plan, Jesper handing back the paper to his boss and giving a tight nod to Kaz, “Lets go then,” he declared.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Through a thorough process of force, Nina had coaxed the reality of your conversation out of Kaz, pulling up rage from the group. However, they excellently withheld it, knowing you would never blame Kaz for his actions whilst his memories fogged over, despite the pain they had caused.

The air around them cleared as the ship sailed away from the port in Ketterdam, the grey of the ocean blending into cerulean as the voyage to Ravka proceeded. If Kaz’s calculations remained accurate, you would be collecting information within the small harbor you had first landed in, leaving little ground for the group to cover in search of you.

Once they reached land, they split off into six desperate individuals, Jesper searching the market, Inej scouring the rooftops, Wylan inquiring with locals, and Nina investigating the shops that littered the town square. Kaz stationed himself inside a cramped booth at the busiest of the sparse bars that lined the town, his informants assuring him it was the most popular with Ketterdam’s visitors.

For the first time in years, Kaz felt sick with nerves. He remembered how anxious he had felt when he summoned the courage to admit his feelings, but the sheer force of his panic now tied him down and drowned him.

Tears poured frequently from his eyes during the weeks of your absence, the dread of not knowing how you were constantly squeezing at his heart. The knowledge that if something happened to you it would be his fault ate at him until he was a mere shell of the man you had loved.

A voice pulled him out of his daze, like a siren inviting a sailor to dance in the depths of the ocean, Kaz was defenseless against you. As he turned his head towards the sound, you also glanced over at the dark figure in the corner, heart ceasing its movements in your chest the second your gazes locked.

It truly was him.

Frozen by the sight of you, Kaz couldn’t comprehend his own actions, remaining frigid in his seat as he stared at you, eyes once again being subject to the sting of tears.

‘Pathetic’ he thought to himself.

You gave a kind smile to the men you were conversing with previously, quietly slipping into the opposite seat from Kaz. You parted your lips to begin small conversation, not wanting the tension to grow too intense, but your words crumbled as he shot out, “I need you.”

Confusion flooded you, yet the desperation flooding his eyes signaled that he wasn’t done, the words were just slowly configuring inside. You knew him well enough to give an encouraging nod, letting him calculate his next words.

“I need you to come back. I remember it all, and” he stopped himself, breathing shallowly as his lungs refused to intake enough air, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Tears leaked from his sunken eyes, his fragile appearance wracking you with emotion, the temptation to reach out to him becoming unbearable. Nobody but you had ever seen the Bastard of the Barrel break, yet he sat before you now, heart on full display for only you to see.

Yet you remained strong, answering his pleads by stating, “And how will that go? I know you lost your memory, but will you just push me away again if your feelings overwhelm you?” Before he could respond, you breathed out, “Kindness often isn’t free in this world Kaz, but when it comes to you, I would never expect anything in return. However, if you truly want me back, I need you to prove to me that it's really,” you paused,

“You.”

Instantaneously, Kaz reached for your hand, gloved fingers grasping desperately at your own, interweaving and caressing them in an iron grip. “I swear,” he started, “I will never let anyone harm you again in the way I have, my love,” a flood of emotion seeping into his words and gaze. “Including myself. I’m sorry,” he said, guiding your interweaved hands to his lips, the trembling a mere afterthought as he kissed your knuckles.

Smiling sadly at him, you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, hearing a shaky sigh leave his lips at your touch, mere weeks leaving him in desperation for you.

“The others are here I suppose?” you questioned, earning a short nod from Kaz and a diversion of his gaze. Unwinding your hand from his, you stood up, glancing down at the sorrowful man, and offering a soft smile, “Lets go find them then,” heart fluttering as Kaz’s hand gripped your wrist, unable to go without your touch a moment longer.

Weaving your hand through his once more, your gaze softened as the tension carved into your boyfriends sullen face released, as the pair of you made your way out of the establishment, connected by the hands that gripped the other and the love that radiated between the pair. Once you had received at least a hundred embraces and kisses from the other crows, you embarked on the journey back to dreary city of Ketterdam.

Not once on the voyage did Kaz leave your side, exchanging soft touches in each moment, and gently whispering against your temple a breathy, “I love you,” as the sublime colours of the sunset bled into the ocean, coating the two in a golden haze.

Relief settled between you, having the other fully within their reach again.

As Kaz’s attention diverted back to the wide expanse of water before him, you pour all of your emotions into your next words.

“I love you too, Kaz Brekker.”

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

tag list: @cinnamon-bun47 @outlawqueen17 @s-corpionem @minstens @myheartfollower @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hopefulpeachnight @aesthetic0cherryblossom @thetargaryenbride @maisieisbae @natalia42069 @words-are-cheap @blancaster @caspianobsessed @lvmos-maximus @peotego @rhyanna6012

#kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #ashessonfire

1K notes · View notes

mothwingwritings · 6 months

Note

C and F for my boy Pickle

Eyyy sorry for the delay! (Yes I am still working on these!!!) Here is some Pickle goodness for you my dear.~<3

WARNINGS: Sex and violence and one love sick feral man.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Pickle would honestly treat you as nicely as he is able too. His living environment has its limitations, but he does everything he can to make it comfortable and inviting for you, adamant about making it a home that is fitting of his mate.

Once you are safely stashed away in his secret abode he sets to work constructing you a nest of things so that you may find pinnacle contentment in your new home. He’s gathered an amalgamation of the softest blankets, clothes, linen, etc. that has been given to him or that he has scavenged, so that you may rest in peace and luxury while in his presence. He also brings you the best cuts of meat after his hunts, though he caught on quickly that you were apt to turn your nose at his bloody, raw offering (he couldn’t quite understand why, he was sure you would love it if you just gave it a chance). Once he picks up on your distaste, he instead begins to hoard ingredients and snacks he steals picks up out in the world, supplying you all manner of foodstuff till he pins down the ones you like.

While Pickle prefers you in your natural state, he understands your body needs protection from the elements. He doesn’t quite get modern fashion, but you seem sad wearing the same thing over and over again. While he’s out he procures a hodge-podge of varying clothing, presenting it to you by dumping it at your feet, a huge dopey grin on his face. He loves seeing you in the clothing he gifts you, you look so beautiful in each and every piece that he can’t help but stare, holding back the urge to rip it right back off and have his way with you.

Pickle won’t mock you and wouldn’t dream of disrespecting you in anyway. Any harm he causes you is either completely unintentional or for your own good. He loses control of himself sometimes, forgetting his own strength. You are just so small and he loves you so much, it’s hard to hold himself back. He hates using his strength against you to prove a point, but if you remain insistent on trying to escape him he will do what he must to protect you. You are HIS mate and HE’S the only one who can take care of you. All that’s waiting for you in this strange new world is danger, so if you won’t stay by his side willingly, he will force you there.

All that said, while you may be relatively safe from Pickle’s more violent tendencies, anyone else most certainly is NOT. If another person approaches you, threatens you, or tries to take you away from him they will be obliterated, decimated, ripped to shreds, torn apart until nothing is left. He’ll bask in the gruesome slaughter, their end another validation that he is the best one for you, the one who loves and can protect you above all others. Doesn’t matter if that person is a stranger or your own mother-he is all you need, anyone else butting in is an unnecessary threat.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would find it incredibly charming if you tried to fight him. Pickle doesn’t see it as an act of aggression at all, but views it as you trying to mimic him as a sign of reverence. You think he is so impressive and strong that you strive to be like him, going so far as to challenge him to a fight. It’s adorable, and he can’t help but break out into a huge toothy grin when he sees you assume a fighting stance.

And it excites him- seeing you tense up, clenching your fists and bending your knees, preparing to strike at a moment’s notice. Seconds before the fray, you stare him down with such intensity, sizing him up and calculating what moves you should make against him, gears turning in your head as you focus wholly on him. The fixation on him sends a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He is the only one you are thinking of in that moment, and in turn you are all that is occupying his thoughts.

Your strikes never hurt him and he can tell how much that frustrates you. He’ll play along sometimes to make you happy, yowling like a mother lioness that is being batted by her cub. He’ll cringe at your punch, shy away from your kick. If he’s convincing enough, you sometimes award him with a small smile, a brief look of accomplishment. It warms his heart, knowing you are having as good of a time as he is.

He also relishes the closeness the two of you share when you initiate these little fights. Usually you try and hide away from him, distancing yourself as much as possible whenever he is in the vicinity. At first he thought it was another game you were trying to play with him, something coy, cute, and seductive to grab his attention. But when the chase became a regular thing he was disappointed, why did you put up such a fuss each time your mate tried to approach you? You didn’t even give him a prize when he finally caught you, just flailing and screaming and spitting. It hurt his feelings- this was supposed to be fun.

But the little brawls you had were fun, and they gave him a chance to have you near him without any to-do. He could feel your skin on his, smell your sweat as your body writhed and wriggled against his. Feeling your small hands grab at his hulking form, listening to your strained moans and heavy breathing as you threw your all into attacking him… Witnessing you in such a state, holding you close as your body rubbed his in just the right way, it doesn’t take long for him to completely lose control.

Before you can recognize what is going on, your body is sheathing his cock, previous grunts of exertion quickly turning into wails of pleasure.

He doesn’t understand why you cry so much afterwards, though. Were you not having as much fun as he was? You initiated the fight, why are you so upset at the outcome? It was a good tussle, and judging by the noises you were making, he was able to make you feel good. Even if you struggled a bit when he was trying to enter you, you always end up yielding to him. The fit is tight, and there have been several times he was afraid he would outright break you when he pushed deeper, pressing into your core. But the pleasure that courses through him as he bottoms out is indescribable. He loses himself in the feel of you surrounding him, completely consumed by the euphoria your body has supplied him.

You are his perfect mate, his brave little warrior, and his love for you is endless. So don’t cry, OK? Maybe next time he’ll let you really ‘win.’ :)

397 notes · View notes

ay-heart-collection · 2 months

Text

Story writing: The Assassin Lesson

Greetings everyone. I am trying to get back some story ideas of heart back in my mind with AI support.

I understand that many people feel resistant to AI currently, but I think it could be a chance for some of my buried ideas digging back to light. I think it should be OK for make use of it for drafting and brainstorming. Wish you will accept it and like it.

-------------------------------------------------------

The Assassin Lesson

In a training site of an assassin group, the mentor lady of the group stood before her class of aspiring young assassins. The leather suit covered by hooded cloak outlined her beautiful body curves. Her piercing gaze surveyed the room, which cause the atmosphere become thick and heavy, but brought a hint of anticipation to the class.

As one of the master of assassin in the group, the lesson of the mentor lady was focusing on the fatal spots of the human body. Before she began her lesson, she brought a beautiful female with a slender figure to her students. She was a young thief captured in an incidental encounter during a mission. Her upper body had been stripped naked, with her wrists bound with tight restraints, stood at the front of the class. Her eyes wide with fear.

"Today, we shall delve into the skill of piercing the human heart."

The mentor lady began, her low and commanding tone sending shivers down the spines of her students. With a swift motion, she spread out a drawing of a human heart, its delicate form sketched meticulously on a piece of parchment.

Walking towards the captive, the mentor caressed the girl carefully, and made use of some simple drawing tool against her bare chest. Soon, a line art appeared between her petite but firm breasts, aligning it with the actual size and position of her ribcage and her heart beneath. The students leaned forward, their eyes fixated on the scene unfolding before them.

"Now, observe," the mentor said, her voice unwavering.

"The human heart was protected beneath the ribcage, nestled within the chest cavity. To truly strike a fatal blow, one must understand its position and structure."

She pointed to the various parts of the heart drawing on the captive, her finger tracing the major arteries and ventricles. The young thief’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath shallow and uneven. Which felt like the mentor’s finger directly touching her myocardium.

"The atria, the ventricles, the aorta," the mentor continued, her voice filled with an unsettling mix of knowledge and detached fascination. "Each component is vital to the heart's function, and each represents a potential fatal spot."

The young thief visibly trembled, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape that was not forthcoming.

"One wrong move, and the heart's delicate rhythm is disrupted," the mentor said, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "A swift and precise strike, however, can send the body into an irreversible state of shock."

At this point, the mentor paused, allowing her words to hang in the air, the weight of her lesson sinking in. The students exchanged glances, fully aware of the power they were being entrusted with.

"Now, my dear students," the mentor said, her voice rising with an unsettling intensity, "let me introduce the tools we mainly use for piercing the heart.”

The mentor's eyes gleamed with an aggressive pleasure as she revealed an array of common weapons used on the table with a quick motion. As she began explaining each weapon in meticulous detail, the captured girl's terror was palpable, her eyes widening in fear as she gazed upon the deadly tools before her. Feeling as if these sharp edges had already torn her horrified heart.

"First, we have the thin, needle-like stiletto blade," the mentor said, her voice dripping with a chilling enthusiasm. "Its slender form allows for precise entry, slipping between the ribs without causing unnecessary damage."

As she spoke, the mentor demonstrated the correct posture for piercing, gently pressing the stiletto against the girl's exposed skin, mirroring the intended action. The girl's heart beat erratically, a visible thumping against her left breast. She shivered, her body tensing involuntarily at the sensation, a cold sweat forming on her forehead.

"Next, we have the wickedly serrated dagger," the mentor continued, her voice filled with a sinister delight. "Its jagged edges can tear through flesh and bone, ensuring a quick and devastating stab."

With a swift motion, the mentor mimicked the piercing action on the girl's skin, her hand moving in a delicate manner. The young thief let out a stifled gasp, her heart pounding even harder in her chest, as if resisting the impending violence. Beads of crimson blood welled up where the blade had made contact, as a testament to the sharpness of the weapon and the fragility of human flesh.

The mentor's eyes narrowed, relishing in the power that played out before her. She continued her lesson, each weapon explained and demonstrated with excellent precision.

"Now, behold the slender yet deadly rapier," the mentor said, her voice taking on a haunting resonance. "Its long, piercing blade can navigate the narrowest of spaces, reaching the heart with deadly accuracy."

The mentor positioned the rapier against the girl's skin, her hand poised to demonstrate the thrusting motion. The captive's breathing grew shallow, her body trembling uncontrollably under the weight of her fear. As the mentor made a swift but soft thrust, the young heart skipped a beat, as if mirroring the terror coursing through her veins.

As the mentor moved through the remaining weapons, the captured girl's terror only intensified. The mentor's explanations were accompanied by demonstrations on the girl's soft skin, each movement were calculated and precise. The pain and fear etched on the captive's face mirrored the darkness hidden within the mentor's own soul.

"In the next section," the mentor lady paused a second, staring at the captive. "We are to demonstrate the precise locations where the weapons should enter the body, piercing the heart." The terrified thief stood frozen, her eyes wide with fear, as the mentor approached her with a gaze of dominance.

"Pay close attention, my dear students," the mentor commanded, her voice laced with an eerie calmness. "As we delved before, the human heart was well protected within the chest cavity. To penetrate the heart efficiently, we must aim for specific entry points. Allow me to explain."

The mentor positioned herself behind the captive, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, as if guiding her through the macabre lesson. The captive's body trembled beneath the mentor's touch, her breath was quick and shallow.

"First," the mentor began, her voice resonating with authority, "We have the area between the 3rd and 4th rib, near the sternum. This position allows for a quick and efficient stab, aiming directly at the center of the heart's chambers."

With precise movements, the mentor's hand mimicked the action of a weapon, her fingers hovering just above the inner side of the captive's left breast, indicating the location. The captive flinched, a shiver coursing through her body, as if she could feel the cold steel of an imaginary blade piercing her flesh.

"Next," the mentor continued, her voice low and steady, "we have the space between the 4th and 5th rib, commonly known as the apex of the heart. Representing the tip of the left and right ventricles. Striking here can disrupt the heart's rhythm and lead to swift incapacitation," the mentor paused a bit, "And this is actually my favorite piercing spot."

The mentor's hand shifted slightly lower, held tightly under the left breast of the young thief. Her heart raced in response, the rumbling apex hammering against the palm of the mentor. She bit her trembling lip, her eyes darting nervously between the assassin students and the weapons displayed on the table.

"Moving on," the mentor said, her tone filled with a chilling precision, "we have the area below the xiphoid, right below the heart. Here is the blind spot of the ribcage coverage. A well-placed strike here can cause severe damage from the bottom of right ventricle."

The mentor's hand descended further, hovering just above the captive's abdomen, her fingers poised as if preparing to strike. The captive's breath hitched, her body tensing as if bracing for impact. The room seemed to grow colder as she saw the focused eyes of the assassin students.

"And finally," the mentor concluded, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper, "We have the area over the clavicle. This position allows us to bypass most of the chest armor and ribcage, to penetrate the atria and aorta directly, provided the weapon is long enough."

The mentor's hand moved to the captive's collarbone area, caressed the pulsating veins underneath. The captive's eyes widened, a mix of terror and realization reflecting in their depths. The mentor's teachings had painted a dark path ahead, one that demanded a cold and calculated approach for her fellows students.

"And NEXT..." the mentor scanned the room, her eyes flickering with amusement.

"Is the time for PRACTICE."

Hearing this, the captured girl’s heart sank to the bottom of abyss. She knew that her doom was imminent. Her heart raced uncontrollably, pounding against her chest as if desperately trying to escape its impending fate.

The mentor asked her students if any of them would like to recommend themselves for the upcoming practice session. Excitement filled the air as most of the girls eagerly raised their hands, their faces lit up with anticipation.

With a sinister smile, the mentor selected a student from the eager faces. The chosen student stepped forward, took down her hood, her eyes shined with expectations and determination. The mentor allowed the student to have her pick of weapon and piercing spot, relishing in the power dynamics that played out before her.

The student's gaze lingered over the arsenal of deadly tools, selecting a weapon with a menacing aura. She ran her fingers along the blade, savoring the anticipation that filled the room. With a wicked grin, she turned to face the captive girl, her voice dripping with delight.

"I choose the serrated dagger," the student declared, her voice tinged with a chilling excitement. "And I want to strike at the apex of her heart, just like the mentor I admire."

The captive girl's eyes widened in terror, her breath catching in her throat. The mentor's own smile widened, seeing the fear etched across the captive's face. She nodded approvingly, allowing the student to proceed with her choice.

The student approached the captive girl, her movements deliberate and calculated. The air grew heavy with tension as the serrated dagger glinted ominously in her hand. The captive girl's heart was beating in an insane rhythm, facing the incoming intent to kill with full of fear and despair.

As the student positioned herself, the mentor watched intently. Her eyes glimmering with a twisted joyous. The student's hand trembled with anticipation, staring at the throbbing point below the left breast of the shivering young thief. Her blade poised to strike. The captive girl's body tensed, her eyes locked on the weapon that would soon pierce her vulnerable flesh.

"Don’t blame me." whispered by the young assassin.

In one swift and merciless motion, the student thrust the serrated dagger right between the 4th and 5th rib, torn the captive girl's heart from the apex. The room seemed to freeze in that moment, the sound of the blade piercing flesh echoing through the air.

The captive girl let out a choked gasp, her eyes widened with agony. Her body kneeled down, convulsing with the searing pain that seeped through her being.

"Come, my dear," the mentor held up the young thief, and let the outstanding student to listen to her last heaving chest. "Remember this faltering heart sound, representing our power, and the fragile of life." Her desperate heartbeat, staggered with the spurting sound of blood, echoed in the mind of the student.

Her heart, the very core of her existence, reacted with a final surge of desperation. It beat wildly, as if fighting against the intrusion, a futile attempt to cling to life. But the cruel reality of the situation prevailed, and with each weakening beat, the girl's life force slipped away.

The mentor watched with a twisted satisfaction as the young thief's body slumped, lifeless and still. The room fell into an eerie silence. The mentor's eyes gleamed with a sense of accomplishment, reveling in the darkness that had unraveled within her students.

"Observe, my dear fellow students," wiped the stains on her student’s cheek, she declare to everyone with determination. "This is what we have, the power deciding life and death. But remember, the fleeting nature of life binds us all. We have to be skilled to avoid becoming the next fallen heart."

The End

#female heart #dark cardiophilia #Gif included #Story writing #AI Support #Heart stab

114 notes · View notes

ncis-nerd · 1 month

Text

long cases

Ship: Olivia Benson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, SA mention and description briefly, cuddling, pet names.

About: A case gone wrong leaves y/n upset and to make matters worse, y/n can relate to the case so she blames her self but her girlfriend, liv, provides a shoulder to cry on and consoles y/n.

"cmon baby, stop being so shy. it's just me. just mommy, sweetie. lemme see your pretty face, hm?" liv cooed, in attempts to get her little lovie out of burying her face into liv's shoulder. y/n slowly begins to pull away, her teary-eyes met liv's. "Oh honey.." liv sighed sadly. she knew that this last case had taken a toll on y/n. it went so wrong and liv can tell y/n is blaming herself. "livie" y/n's voice broke. the fragile girl began to sob, covering her face with her fingers to spare liv the effort of attempting to console her. there was nothing liv could say to change the outcome of the case but what liv could do, was talk to y/n about it. liv knows that y/n was abused sexually in the past so this is why she relates to this case so deeply.

A few minutes passed, liv was giving y/n the space to cry and let it all out before talking to her. Y/n stood limp in liv's arms, tears stopped flowing. Y/n began to trace circles on liv's back. Liv took this as a sign that y/n was in a slightly better state. "Honey?" Liv gambled. Y/n hummed in reponsed. "Are you ready to talk about it, my love?" Liv asked, not removing the girl from her lap just in case. Y/n and Liv had this agreement that they'd always talk about it. If someone was bugging the other, they would not let it cause an argument or fight. To talk about it and dispute the problem before it gets worse.

Y/n scooted over, leaving some space between the two, but not much. Y/n clutched onto liv's hand, not that liv minded. She knew it helped y/n to talk, grounded her. Knowing that liv was real and she would be okay eventually. "I think the reason this case is getting to me so much is because this has happened to me. Not this exact situation but I was SA-ed. A-and I've told you about it briefly but..." Y/n's voice broke, drawing intense circles on liv's hand. With her other hand, liv reached out to rub y/n's back. Giving her a hint to breathe. Y/n takes a deep breath in response, getting the hint. Liv fixated on y/n's story, nodding at her to continue when she's ready.

"P-part of me wished someone had came to save me, but no one ever did. It got worse but you know what? I grew up, and got the hell out of there." Y/n exhaled, feeling a huge weigh lifted off her chest. "That's right my love. What you experienced, is horrible, I have no words. But you're right, you got the hell out of there and I'm so proud of you for that. Shows how strong you are, look how far you came. You help people everyday, you are amazing, my gorgeous, generous, girlfriend." her voice softened with affection.

Y/n let out a soft giggle in response. Liv, obviously confused, gives y/n a puzzled look in response. Furrowing her eyebrows. "That all started with g's, I just thought it was funny." Y/n squeaked in a happier sounding voice. "Oh? Hm? Funny am I?" Liv pushed, climbing onto y/n, trapping them beneath her. Y/n raised an eyebrow towards Liv. Liv attacked y/n with tickles. "l-livie!" She squealed. "How funny am I now? Hm, sweetheart?" Liv teased. Y/n squirmed beneath her, out of breath "l-liv i can't breath!!" Y/n giggled. "Oh, can't you now baby? " Liv inched closer towards Y/n, pressing her lips against y/n's.

Liv fell beside y/n, her hand caressed y/n's face. Their eyes met, and y/n leaned into liv's touch. "I love you so much, babe." y/n whispered quietly. "you are so perfect, angel." Liv whispered in response. They gazed at each other with nothing other than love. They laid in silence, clutching onto one another, falling asleep tangled up in quiet.

a/n: like, reblog and comment for more!!

#my writing #my fic #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson x you #olivia benson #law and order svu #svu #svu fic #svu x reader #svu fanfiction #law and order special victims unit #Olivia Benson angst #l&o svu #law and order fanfiction #Olivia x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #mentions of sa

74 notes · View notes

shopcat · 1 year

Text

HI. this is the steve harrington autism post. source: i have the steve harrington style autism that makes me autistic about him

to preface this i would like to say i am working off of personal like interpretation and thru the lens of my own experience :0... also this is long lol <3 so, tl;dr, here are the autistic traits or things that are caused by autism i believe steve showcases, (except.. do read if you like <3):

sensory issues -> wearing only ever the same style of clothes, adjusting/touching his hair, (potentially) eating certain foods

stimming -> walking in place to think, fiddling with small objects, spinning/flipping/throwing objects to keep himself focussed or entertained, listening to music

scripting -> repeating phrases/words aloud and practicing what he's going to say, repeating the "plan" aloud

routine -> strict hair routine with specific steps, was in routine sports with strict rules/timing and enjoys them otherwise, driving robin to school every day without even knowing she couldn't bc it was routine, working jobs that require mindless but engaging tasks including organisation

poor grasp of social cues, especially with girls, and saying the "wrong" thing at the wrong time (including the 6 little nuggets speech, "he ate dustin's cat", confessing to robin, etc)

other people feeling like they have to tell him things he's "missed" socially (dustin telling him he likes robin, eddie telling him he likes nancy)

likes to set/follow rules and is upset when people deviate from them (i.e. max wanting to leave in s4)

out of-the-box/atypical/lateral thinking

delayed processing of thoughts/concepts/complicated subjects especially in high-intensity scenarios

picking up on small details (like background sounds in large areas or recognising something) that other people don't pick up on

fixating on certain things (hair, clothes/shoes, sports, etc)

high pain tolerance/sensory dysregulation (shaking off concussions/consistent, continued ability to function while severely injured)

inability to conceptualise his OWN mortality/safety and engaging in at risk situations with little thought other than instinct + making impulsive choices

developmental differences/delays (literally crawling backwards)

poor grades in school/not getting into college

trouble regulating emotion

poor self esteem due to feeling worthless :(

i also have adhd so i also keep this in mind a little and obv at the end of the day this is just my own interpretation + autism is a spectrum :) NOW. i will go into detail >:)

SOOO i'm not sure if steve was deliberately coded as autistic but i DO think they intentionally in one way or another coded him with a developmental disability of some kind!! which i will talk about first!!

this is shown particularly in season 2 in a couple different instances and continues into season 3 at undercurrent ..

we've discussed this a little before but i also think this is why when people like to just describe him as genuinely "dumb" it like hurts people's feelings 😭 my feelings... and that's not intentional ofc but while it is a personal insecurity of the character himself that is being ironically picked at, positively or not, by those who love him in fandom, it's also evident of something happening under the surface that people may be unaware of imo

i think he display a out of-the-box, atypical or lateral way of thinking combined with delayed processing in a way that is very typical to neurodivergent behaviour!! and more...

in season 2 we get a really nice little look into his psychology about it when nancy is reading his college admission essay (that he presumably asked her to do) and he's sitting there SO nervous and full of doubt and worked up about it he's like. basically twitching 😭

he says "it's crap i know" and nancy's like no it's not! and he's like "ugh it's not good..." sooo stressed out.. and nancy says it just needs some reorganising, which is INTERESTING!!! someone who is insecure in his own skills and inability to get his thoughts across in a succinct way + has good, complex ideas that translate poorly when he tries to explain it out loud or in text + a host of insecurities pre-rooted and explicitly about his own intellectual "failings" all = a very neurodivergent read of Steve Vs School i think

also, maybe a tangent, but: in that essay itself nancy says he starts by using one of his basketball games as a metaphor for his life, then he confuses the metaphor by comparing it to the war his grandfather was in. nancy says she doesn't see how they're connected and he's like "um. it connects because we both won" (i actually think she's being very sweet in this scene!! idg when ppl say she's mean here)

ik this wasn't the show's intention and just extrapolation but i find it really cool + interesting that there IS a war of some kind that steve could talk about that HE fought in, there is a description of high stakes combat where it's him VS them and he is the only one who now has to make this high stakes, risky choice, instead of playing it safe like he always does that relates directly to his life as a metaphor and he DOES feel connected to his grandfather in this sense...

but he can't actually talk about that. so it's basketball. and it's a slightly clunky metaphor that makes it seem like, trite, like oh silly steve, basketball isn't WAR. the essay itself is actually really well-written and evocative!! but to me signifies this inability to directly translate what he's thinking, hence it needs a little "rearranging", or maybe it's a little "all over the place" even

(also, that he crumpled up the entire essay and dismissed it entirely and fell back on nihilistic thinking and "i'll just work for my dad i guess". he already had cast disbelief upon his own ability to thrive because he feels he's not good enough :( )

his failing grades, which ended in not getting into college, tech or otherwise, is a big part of his post-highschool arc i think. to me it also shows sympathy to a problem many young neurodivergent (in every which way, btw) people face, including myself, and is potentially a really almost kind portrayal of the capability of a person not being wrapped up in their intellectual or i guess SCHOLASTIC endeavours and "achievements", and that you can be successful and "useful" to others in different ways :0

to call him dumb and really mean it (both in and out of show -_-) after all this is a certain kind of disservice i guess? like okay i think a little jokey joke is fine and also absolutely RELATING is fine (and another extension of another one of my points which is basically just "he's just like me fr" can actually = "he's JUST like me... like For Real". he's dumb in the way i'm dumb and we're both not actually dumb) but let's all be cool okayyyy

beyond school, i think he displays SOO many behaviours both characteristically and even like in his physicality that build to this beautiful conclusion... i think steve is this guy who was served up to be an initially one dimensional being who proved himself again and again to have a multitude of complexities beneath the surface :). i think his literal entire character arc is adjacent to the autistic experience LOL... perhaps...

he showcases a certain need and comfort in routine in a variety of ways, like:

being interested in sports both watching recreationally (which have timed matches and he HAS to be there on time, too) and as the hobby itself. sports are a high-routine activity with strict rules and rituals, before, after and during, as well as the extra work you have to put in otherwise!!

ESPECIALLY something like swimming, which is all about certain timing (and an individual-based sport as opposed to the team-based basketball) which he took for years!! (and actually got his cpr verification for, which you absolutely don't need to just like. be on the swim team. but it would be the "right" way to do it LOL) (also idk how it worked in 1980s fictional indiana but you need your verification a year in advance to actually do anything with it where i live!! which means he did it FROM freshman year)

driving robin to school every day, and then presumably picking her up for work sometimes too, despite not even knowing she COULDN'T drive herself because he was so dedicated to this routine (and friendship :D <3)

his hair routine!! it's SO specific (four puffs EXACTLY!!! no more no less... and when it's DAMP not WET) and i am honestly of the mind it's actually far more complex of a routine he even makes it out to be .. and i am willing to bet the multi step experience of it all is sooo long and has to be just as specific too. also extra points for it being something he does that aids in his own self-image and would make him feel like he's putting himself together.? so to speak

i think, in a way, that he owns about 9 pairs of shoes and most of them are white sports shoes with a colour accent + he's been shown to wear the colour accent that matches his outfit more often than not. which i spose is a certain kind of. ritual or routine or something.

he also shows a whole host of sensory issues/complexities/...things!!

he wears the same style of clothes like CONSTANTLY. almost everything he owns is either a soft sweater or a polo shirt, plus the same style of jacket he cycles through, all of which are well-worn (despite him being like, rich) :) the exception is that colourblock denim vest (which i think is the exception for him too because he just wanted to look like marty mcfly. which is so autistic)

i.e. wearing something that you know is comfortable over and over that doesn't give you a poor sensory experience, and continuing to buy the same style of clothing because you know it's safe to do so because he FEELS comfortable. super autistic trait. beloved prep trait as well i also just think he doesn't actually care what he wears but whatever

he also sometimes favours tight clothes and sometimes looser/baggier ones (think one day the s4 blue/white polo and jeans, the next a sweater and loose chinos) which indicates to me possible different sensory needs in the day by day...

he also wears a lot of undershirts, including with the scoops ahoy uniform (which could've been to avoid a POOR sensory experience)

he adjusts/runs his fingers through his hair and makes sure it's in a nice state at an almost compulsive level but it's also like an afterthought kind of. it could also just be a sensory thing to want to retouch his hair and play with it and follow through with the prior routine of it Looking Good + a grounding technique for sure

along with that he stims a LOT, including the thing where he has to twirl or throw ANYTHING in his hands up to and including -> a lighter, the baseball bat MIDFIGHT, a torch, a phone MIDFIGHT, his ice cream scooper, keys, his sailor hat, a banana, a random ball he found... he's also very fiddly and tends to sort of be happy sitting quietly and doing something over and over like that (this is also a trait with adhd :) )

the jobs he worked are relatively low intensity despite customer interaction and had him working with his hands plus at FV there's a lot of sorting/organisation. also "not my TAPES man" because he already sorted them and now it's ruined 😭

you tend to see him taking a little moment for himself in the background of scenes a lot, sometimes with robin as well!! he kind of just wanders off and does his own thing but in the wake of the high emotion, high adrenaline various combats in-show it makes sense, even more so if he just needs a little moment to himself to unwind

he walks/paces to think!!!

the reason he and robin only even threw up in season 3 is a) the stimulating lights he noticed that then b) over-stimulated them

this one's a little less obvious but he listens to the same kind of music and listens to it LOUDLY when he's stressed 😭 he also doesn't turn it off even if he like, technically should like on the way to fight monsters. i think he just likes music a lot tbh but also very autistic to me (and also a reason why he and eddie would be friends and/or kiss on the mouth)

one of the biggest things that sounds off to me is his social interactions :0 he is hailed as this like, ladies man but almost near constantly plummets to the earth in insane social blunder which personally i love actually (and it extends beyond these situations too!!). all the hottest boys are autistic...

i know that this is to show him just like, losing his charm...? and that he peaked in highschool or something and i do love his patheticness but it's also sooo autism. one of the reasons i actually think he's gay (lol) is his compulsive need to try and "land" a social interaction with a woman, then fail, while also not "feeling the spark" with the women he DID land and failing to see why (like his date at the basketball game). he's constantly seeking companionship but it feels like it's just out of his reach and he doesn't get it... sigh... and that it's definitely in part bc he feel he can't relate to them because HE'S so different i think. for whatever reason. multiple.

in season 3 the ENTIRE you rule/you suck board is like a beautiful shrine to this... he's honestly so funny . but like constantly awkwardly flirting and somehow saying the wrong thing every time whilst also not getting that they're Not responding to him until they like, leave, which is like. a statistical unlikelihood to me of times this can happen without something else going on in his little brain. i also like that he "invented" a makeout point bc that opens up the ability to just go um. let's go to skull rock. and the person would be like oh okay yes i am going to makeout with steve harrington.

beyond just girls or failed flirting or whatever a lot of his interactions with the kids or his other friends ping to me as having trouble with social cues and some accidental bluntness!! a FAVOURITE being -> "dart ate a cat?" "no. what? no." "what are you talking about? he ate mews" "who's mews?" "it's dustin's cat" "STEVE..." 😭😭 i love him. also him suggesting he could work his charm on the dean of the school and nancy being like... not that kind of charm.

oh another good moment for this is in the epilogue to season 3 actually like he's trying so hard to show he's seen Some movies (but only remembers the significant/stand out details) and then when robin's like can you give us a moment he's just like. Why. and does this funny little head shake movement. and robin does the steve -_- and he backs away kubrick staring... beautiful scene

he also falls victim i think to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time which is a lot of the time not necessarily his like FAULT ofc but suggests further little issues or . unalignmentd with social interaction. the entire 6 little nuggets speech to nancy to me is one of these situations (and maybe the convo in the woods with her?? idk) where he's kind of just talking and digging a hole and the other person is sort of just sitting there. it's also shown with like "like the germans?"

ALSO, a lot of the time people end up coming to him specifically and sort of like... telling him what to do/how HE feels?? and i think he just sort of goes along with it. in season 3 dustin tells him he has a crush on robin until he kind of talks himself into it and then he accidentally crash-fails for a second time by confessing to her at a sort of insane time as well (not that i think he actually had any feelings for her!!). and in season 4 eddie does the SAME with nancy which is almost spectacular.

alsoo while i think he struggles with certain social cues i also think he's very emotionally intelligent and he picks up on people's feelings easily which i guess someone could say it seems to counter? other autistic traits (silly) but to me i think. autistic people are aware of PLENTY of social cues sometimes the cue is just stupid -_- and i can read other people's emotions for sure in fact i'm almost like hyper attuned to it i just don't know how to RESPOND to it a lot of the time. whereas steve picks up on dustin's nerves at the snow ball and reassures him accordingly (and so cutely..), then picks up on robin's emotions after his confession and near-immediately course corrects after her confession in order to make her laugh!!! he was also really good with picking up on nancy's feelings and knowing exactly what to do about it/using forethought about it (like idk holding her hand when they were having sex or something to ease her nerves but also noticing she was upset at the library) when they were together at least 🤔

there are also a number of other various things very dear to me that i have no where else to include. LIKE:

his high pain tolerance!!! he's able to shake off torture, multiple concussions, various beatings with little to almost NO actual repercussions. in s4 it was actually really interesting how he was feeling bad enough to almost faint after the bats but once he was patched up he was "fine", and acted like he was fine for... the rest of the entire show. he did a backflip. high pain tolerance is an offshoot of a sensory dysregulation!!

specifically a lack of filter and moments where he goes "too far" especially when he's struggling with an emotional dysregulation of sorts, like with dustin in s4 or even with jonathan s1, but also like. the dumb faces he was making behind his date's back.

"when i was a baby, i crawled backwards"!!! autistic children can have different development i.e. their early CHILDHOOD development that can present itself in a variety of ways!! atypical to the norm crawling/walking is one of them (also matches up with robin taking 6 months longer to walk than other babies which she Also said to nancy and i think this is significant of something and i don't know what. maybe it's just funny. also stobin soulmates ofc).

to me, being the guy who mid plan debrief is the one saying "so let me get this straight" AND that he's the one asking the necessary questions to get everyone's minds (and in the 4th wall sense the literal plot) moving suggests that he both feels the need to want clarification of like, plans/instructions and what the situation is so everyone is caught up and he didn't get it wrong, and that just speaking it aloud helps cement it in his mind (which is also scripting as well i believe). also his ability to ask the RIGHT "wrong" questions suggests out of-the-box thinking as well (i would say both of these are also an adhd trait!)

his friendship with robin is honestly a point for me LOL. robin is an example of a character i do believe IS intentionally absolutely autistic coded, especially in season 4 but also 3, and his bond with her seems to be a personal one based in trust in each other and their own similarities... in season 4 when they're lamenting their love lives and say they should "just combine" is so important to me.. ugh

he's very particular and possessive about his belongings in an almost pedantic way (c'mon man not my SCOOPER! and wipe your feet before you get in my CAR and honestly even that he refuses to let max drive it fullstop, a little bit)

he also ate. SO many bananas at scoops i think for a time being it ended up being a safe food which literally happened to me as well. a very small thing but i like it

he scripts!! ie he repeats words and phrases aloud as a form of stimulation and getting himself to think or practices what he's going to say before things so he's "scripting" it (his "i'm sorry wtf am i sorry for" speech before he runs into dustin in s2)

he gets along better people who, by majority, aren't in his peer group i.e. the kids!!! and even robin and nancy were a little younger! he is very genuinely friends with the kids and it is Very Genuinely so sweet, but particularly with dustin too i found it sooo... <3

he also shows like these moments of high-intensity like silly child-like qualities of (autistic) joy LIKE when he sees dustin in scoops and they have their little lightsaber fight (which they. had practiced and made beforehand) that is just so sweet to me...

he picks up on things that other people don't!!! as the Normal Guy in a group of people he typically ends up settling in that role BUT he's multiple times picked up on small details that other people don't or DIDN'T notice, which is a neurodivergent trait!! he recognised the song in the russian recording, recalled where it came from like. right after + was the only one who heard dustin in the upside down + other things like noticing when someone's missing from a room

i also think he may be prone to like. i guess sensory overload/emotional dysregulation when he reacts what i think is appropriately to these HUGE scary scenarios but everyone else is like chill out and therefore it's inappropriate to them that he's losing his mind about it. but as time passes and he gets used to it all it lessens for sure (most evident in season 1) but there are moments where he struggles to reign in his truest reactions to things i think LOL. he is also just very dramatic tbf ☝️

his other vague neuroticisms but specifically commenting when things aren't Correct or Right or Safe including complaining about the sterility of the needle he was being injected with mid TORTURE

when he defaults to sports metaphors bc that's the easiest thing he can relate to in s2. god

100% of autistic people i talk to about this all go OH YEAH he's so autistic. tbh i think autistic people relating to a character can be enough of a diagnosis to me. peer diagnosis...

i just think so :)

in conclusion...

#steve harrington #🍦#WARNING . this is like 3k #sts

362 notes · View notes

wolfie-bee · 2 years

Text

Ties that bind

read it here as a twitter fic

"You know, when you showed up at my door this morning I didn't wanna let you in." Kara's words are a soft vulnerable truth, but the weight of them lodges deep in Lena's chest.

She knows, had seen the inky lines of mistrust etched across Kara's face that morning when offering the beginnings of an apology and a plea to help stop Lex.

There's tension in the lines of Kara's shoulders and Lena's eyes get stuck there as she looks down at her feet and stacks her hands on her hips. Then they dissolve into silence.

Well why are you still here? Lena wants to ask. Why am I here? But the words feel heavy, hurt springing like blood on her tongue.

Guilt immediately rushes in, you stole from me, you convinced me to steal for you and you used kryptonite on me!! an echoing ring in her ears that instantly liquefies her resolve. Her jaw tenses and ticks, and she dips her head, shifting her eyes away from the otherworldly gravity that Kara's holds.

Kara lifts her head and her eyes fixate on Lena's as the silence stretches, a stormy sea of emotions churning in their blue depths. The intensity in them tenses Lena's spine and she folds her arms tightly across her chest like a physical shield from their direct assault. She doesn't recognize this look, hates the uncertainty as bitter indignation crowds her stomach and the words you betrayed me, you broke my heart lock with startling force behind her ribcage.

"Alex was right," Kara chuckles humorlessly, "I'm not rational when it comes to you. I think with my heart and not with my head."

"Funny, Lex said the same to me."

Kara's expression turns inscrutable, and Lena doesn't know if it's because of the mention of her brother or their similarities when it comes to dealing with each other. She figures it's a little of both.

"But…" Lena continues, swallowing her pride and the lump forming in her throat, "is that such a bad thing?"

Kara doesn't answer. Instead, she lets out a shallow breath, forehead crinkling like this conversation had already become too much. She had shut this conversation down one too many times when Lena had tried to broach it earlier. But damn if it doesn't make Lena want to crawl out of her own skin.

She'd thought they were making some progress, had felt the tentative stirrings of reconciliation as they'd worked together to stop Leviathan.

It's disconcerting that she can't get a read on Kara's eyes as she takes a step back, red boots scuffing against the floor. And Lena's heart aches at the physical distance like an ever widening chasm between them.

"On Krypton, trust was something sacred." Kara starts softly, inhaling a large gulp of air that draws Lena's eyes to the glyph on her chest. "We broke that in each other, we caused each other so much pain and -"

"Pain is a necessary part of life," Lena says hoarsely, the words quivering on her tongue. "I learned that the hard way when Non Nocere failed."

Another bout of silence falls over them and Lena uses it to turn away from Kara, gathering strength for what she's about to say next.

"So I get it. You don't have to trust me in order for us to keep working together."

"But I want to…" Kara answers immediately, and there's earnestness in the soft tremor of her voice. "you came through today at every opportunity and I - I'm not saying that you have to keep doing that but, I want to trust you, Lena. I want to let you in again."

Lena releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding, relief spreading like fissures across her heart, a warm hopeful balm in her veins as she squeezes her eyes shut.

"Kara," she breathes out, lips trembling as she forces out the word. A host of reasons why they shouldn't do this flashes through her mind, the biggest of them being that Lena didn't think that she deserved to hold on to the tentative reins of trust being offered.

She hears her take a step.

Then another.

And another.

Until Kara's pressed right against her, a comforting warmth at Lena's back that makes her heart tremble as those warm familiar hands land on her shoulders. The touch nearly makes Lena flinch. She doesn't know why it surprises her since Kara has always been the more tactile one between them. And her brain stalls in trying to furiously calculate exactly how long they've been apart.

Kara notices, of course she does. She breathes out shakily, hands drifting along the curve of Lena's shoulders and the small of her back.

Lena trembles at the feel of it, her touch starved body aching to be held in Kara's arms again. Because Kara is warmth and light and Lena still loves her with the inevitability of a new day and the gravity that binds them to each other.

Kara's touch is an irresistible force and Lena can't even find it within her to be angry that her defenses were practically nonexistent as the tension melts from her in seconds.

That warmth reaches all the way to her toes as those hands slide in a comforting press down the arch of her spine to settle lightly at her hips. Before Lena can think herself out of it, she turns, just to see her face as the desire to reach out, to touch, loosens the threaded beat of her anxious heart.

The hands on her hips bunches in Lena's blouse almost to the point of contention and she freezes, lifting her eyes to Kara's. This is the closest they've been in a while but the uncertainty in Kara's eyes is almost Lena's undoing. She allows herself a small conciliation, grasping onto the hands already clinging to her, as if that could somehow convey the mix of emotions thrumming inside her chest.

The wall between them all but falls away as Kara loosens one of her hands to reach out and cup her face. Lena leans readily into the contact and Kara's eyes soften, allowing her a glimpse of the woman she'd fallen in love with.

"How do I let you in again?" Kara asks, a shaky plea that loosens tears from her devastatingly attractive eyes. Lena wants to reach up and kiss them away, but her insecurities leave her rooted to the spot.

"Maybe you shouldn't," She answers truthfully, her doubts manifesting as those small broken words.

Kara's palm trembles against her cheek and Lena closes her eyes, moving to shift away. But Kara's other hand presses more insistently against her side, warming her through her clothes and Lena nearly chokes on her name, can't find her voice which gets lost somewhere in the trembling cry struggling to break free.

"I know I hurt you by not telling you my truth." Kara says, drawing Lena's eyes to hers. "And I'm sorry. I haven't had a lot of practice doing this. Growing up I was forced to hide my abilities because the people around me could get hurt and I - I know that's no excuse, but I hope -" Kara stops abruptly, lips trembling too much to continue.

And Lena doesn't want to talk about this anymore, can't talk about it without breaking down again. Her heart aches for Kara, for this woman born of different stars and the hardships she faced. So she closes the rest of the distance, folding herself into Kara's embrace.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that." She whispers, tucking her face against Kara's neck as those warm arms go around her.

"Lena," the way that Kara says her name has never failed to make Lena's breath hitch. "I hope that one day you can forgive me."

Her trembling arms lock around Kara's shoulders, and Kara nuzzles against her hair, chest expanding as she breathes Lena in. Lena closes her eyes and oh, Kara's touch is grounding and these arms feel more like home than any place on earth ever could.

She doesn't expect the soft lingering kiss that Kara leans in and presses to her temple and the intimacy and affection of it shatters Lena's careful composure. Tears fills her eyes, tears that spill down her face as her breathing shortens and they don't have time for this, they have to stop Lex from whatever he's plotting, they have to -

But patient, gentle Kara frames her face between warm palms, tenderly brushing the tears away with the pad of her thumbs and the anchoring force of another kiss pressed sweetly against her skin.

Her kiss is light dawning in the darkness, darkness that rushes out from Lena's heart and flees from the crevices of her soul as Kara's kisses move across her temple and down to her eyebrows. She doesn't stop, pressing them in reverence across her eyelids, sweeping along the bridge of Lena's nose down to the apple of her cheeks, a sweet calming force that quiets Lena's mind.

It's new, this level of intimacy, the fact that they've never really used kisses for comforting each other in all of their years of friendship. Lena finds that she can't get enough of it, craves the press of Kara's warm mouth on her skin and can't believe that they've never done this before.

She flushes brightly when Kara tilts her chin with a hand covering her jaw to drop a kiss just below Lena's ear and stills long enough for Lena to reopen her eyes.

Kara's cheeks are a lovely red and Lena's eyes get stuck there, admiring their rosy hue. She doesn't know what expression her face forms as Kara moves back a little but they stare at each other, all heavy lidded eyes and soft breaths mingling in the short space between. The staring lengthens to the point where Lena feels like she's about to combust beneath the allure of those magnetic blue eyes.

So she moves in, drawn to Kara, softly touching their noses together. The action elicits a wobbly smile from Kara's pretty pink lips and Lena closes her eyes again, hands falling to grasp onto Kara’s suit clad biceps. Her nose skims across the rise of Kara's cheek, and down to her calming fluttering pulse, overwhelmed by the scent of peaches clinging to her skin.

One of Kara's hands finds her hip again, the other mindlessly tangling in Lena's hair and Lena can't think of a safer place than these arms as she absentmindedly noses along the slope of Kara's neck till the point where the supersuit starts. Her lips tingle where they accidentally meet warm skin and she draws back a little to intentionally press them lightly against the hollow of Kara's throat.

It's a bit concerning that she doesn't have the wherewithal to be mortified by her actions, but Kara's only reaction is a quiet breath against her ear.

So she does it again, soft, tentative.

This time Kara makes a tiny noise of encouragement that fills Lena with ardor and she wants to hear it again, has to hear it again. So she opens her mouth a little and scrapes her teeth along the corded muscles of Kara’s neck, feeling them flutter beneath the soft roll of her tongue. Kara's breathing turns heavy.

Lena delights at the response and the feeling of Kara's fingers tightening in her hair. She grows bolder with her kisses, moving back up Kara's neck and across the line of her jaw like a woman possessed.

This isn't something that best friends do. But right now they weren't even friends. And Lena's always been a little too in love with Kara to truly make her an enemy.

"Lena," Kara says, the name a soft aching sigh as Lena presses a litany of sweet kisses along Kara's soft reddened cheek, unable to stop or draw herself away as those fingers clench tighter in her hair.

Kara's breathing is a mess, and she closes her eyes as Lena carefully tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, lips still pressed to soft warm skin.

"I'm sorry too." She whispers, soft, penitent. The tears come again, the shame at what she'd done a suffocating force as her lips tremble against Kara's skin, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth. "I hurt you and I know I can't make up for what I did but I promise, I'm going to try."

Kara's hand slips beneath the blouse that had loosened from where it had been tucked in her jeans and Lena's breath hitches as her warm hand lands on equally warm skin. She kisses Kara's cheek again, pressing closer, feels like they aren't truly close enough as she kisses her again and again.

Kara's lips catch the last kiss aimed for the corner of her mouth and her hand slides around to Lena's lower back, making Lena's heart flutter.

She doesn't lose stride, if anything, she's embolden, her silken mouth parting Lena's lips with a soft tremor. The kiss immediately deepens, no prelude, no hesitancy, only a soothing whisper of Lena's hands moving to tenderly frame Kara’s face and kisses as inevitable as freefall.

Kara's kisses are transcendental and Lena's mouth parts below hers as her thumbs sweep against the apple of Kara's cheeks, lips aching with apologies and promises.

The crest of the House of El presses tight against her chest and Lena presses a palm directly over it, a silent promise, a deep shuddering breath escaping her lips as Kara's second hand moves to join the other as they frame the dips on her lower back.

Lena's hands shift to tangle in the red cape on Kara's back as she kisses her with salt on her lips and forgiveness on her tongue. Kara's mouth trembles against hers, a reminder of the more difficult parts of the conversation still to come and a sweet tentative taste of the reconciliation awaiting them.

Happy Supercorp Sunday everyone!! Once again this fic was written on Twitter today in response to the gif tweeted above by @CSIRJen who's awesome and just provides inspiring tweets that make me write these weird little stories 😅 thank you to everyone who's gotten this far, I'm always amazed when people read all of my rambling words.

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #ties that bind #s5x19 scene extension #basically i saw supercorp's handshake in this scene and thought the cee w could have done better #my toxic trait is that anytime i see s5 angst as a gif or video i think supercorp should just hug and kiss about it #so here is me making them do exactly that #nothing like kisses to heal wounds 🥺💗#my writing #my fics #supercorp twitter fic #twitter fic chaos #s5 finale re-do?#happy supercorp sunday

1K notes · View notes

onemustalwaysbecarefulofbooks · 10 months

Text

Why I Dislike Rhysand, Part 1: Not a Martyr Like You Think

So. . this rant has been a long time coming. I finally came to the conclusion that it would be too much to include all in one post. There are so many different things I feel the need to touch on and include that I decided I’m going to be breaking it up. Enjoy Part 1.

I also feel the need to start off by saying that I’ve been an SJM reader for nearly ten years now. I remember when ACOTAR first came out. I remember reading ACOMAF upon its release and nearly being blown over by my intense disgust and dislike for how a story was handled. ACOMAF was released in 2016, so I’ve been holding on to a lot of this for the better part of seven years. I don’t know how many of you were a part of the ACOTAR or SJM community here on Tumblr back in those days but let me tell you. . .it was something else. The fevered Rhysand obsession and worship was WILD. The fans were CUT THROAT and had no mercy. If you even HINTED at the fact that you felt like Rhys was not All That, they came for you and they came hard. I have never been one to engage in ridiculous arguments with strangers on the internet so I kept most of my feelings to myself. It’s giving me immense satisfaction and validation to see so many people begin to express things that are so like minded with how I feel. Keep fighting the good fight!

SO! We’re going to dive deep with this and go back to before the series chronologically even started.

A huge part of why I so strongly dislike Rhysand is that I find it very hard to sympathize with him regarding his time UTM.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Now, I realize that that sentence alone is enough to cause a lot of people to click away from this in disgust immediately. I challenge those people to keep reading and to hear me out. I try and make it a point to back everything I have to say with canon facts and logical sense. One of the fatal (or perhaps not so fatal) flaws I have as a reader is that 99% of the time, I am not able to just let things go and absorb them at face value for the sake of an entertaining story. You can sell me just about anything and I’ll be able to find some enjoyment in it. . .if it makes sense. If something exists in a scenario that is contradictory or just plain illogical, I tend to fixate on it and not be able to let it go (I call this the Ravenclaw in me). Sometimes I almost resent that I’m like this because I feel like it prevents me from just having a good time with literature, but for better or worse, this is the kind of reader I am.

Unfortunately, the ACOTAR series, specifically many things that have to do with Rhys and the Inner Circle, are riddled with things like this. Now, it’s no secret to any SJM reader that Sarah J Maas is OBSESSED with Rhys and the Inner Circle. Like. . .OBSESSED. I’ve truly never seen anything like it from an author. She so plainly and clearly holds these characters on pedestals and believes them to be the best of the best. She also so plainly and clearly works very hard to try and get the readers to feel the same way. This is why I say that SJM is one of the most confusing and frustrating authors I’ve ever read about. She clearly feels this way and wants US to feel this way. So you’d think, if that was her end goal, that she would simply just write characters who really ARE the best of the best and deserve to be on pedestals. Easy, right? She has total control over the actions, thoughts, and words of these characters, every other character, the plot, the narrative, the direction of the entire story. So just. . .write them as being perfect saintly beings, as you so clearly view them as?? You have the power to do this?

But here’s where the confusing and frustrating part comes in: She doesn’t.

Instead of giving us these characters who truly ARE as virtuous and amazing and wonderful as she thinks they are, she instead gives us characters who do horrific, selfish, and highly questionable things across the span of the series and then gaslights her readers by continuing to hold these characters on pedestals and laud them as being The Best In Every Way. . .while their atrocious deeds are sitting RIGHT THERE on the page being completely ignored in every way. It’s one of the most unaware and bizarre things I’ve ever witnessed from an author and honestly, from a group of readers. The amount of people who just blindly accept anything SJM says as Gospel is wild to me. I really don’t understand how people just swallow this stuff and can’t see it for what it is. Open your mind to just an ounce of critical thinking and I really do believe you’ll begin to see things in a new way.

So. . .my point in all that being: SJM clearly wanted us to have a ton of sympathy for Rhys from his ordeal with Amarantha and his time UTM. The scene is set perfectly! Valiant and selfless Rhysand volunteers himself to play Amarantha’s whore in order to keep her attention from the city and the people Rhys loves so much. He lives for 50 years having to “service” a psychotic evil woman who actively tries to bring destruction to his entire country. Horrible, right??? Unthinkable. What he went through!!! What he had to do!!! No one has a selfless heart like he does!!!!

The only problem is. . .this entire scenario has a million holes in it. Let’s explore some of them.

So, when Amarantha returns to Prythian, Rhys heads to her little party without any backup from the IC. He plans to kill Amarantha himself but of course, she tricks all the High Lords and captures their power before this can happen.

Sidenote: This is another thing I can’t stand about Rhysand’s power: We are told over and over and over that he is THE MOST powerful High Lord not just of the seven current High Lords, but in all of Prythian’s HISTORY. In the High Lord’s meeting during ACOWAR (top contender for my least favorite scene of the entire series), Feyre says:

The others, who had been watching with disdain and amusement and boredom, now turned to my mate. Now possessed a shadow of fear in their eyes as they realized who and what, exactly, sat amongst them.

Brethren, and yet not. Tamlin was a High Lord, as powerful as any of them.

Except for the ones at my side. Rhys was as different from them as humans were to Fae.

Okay, first of all:

Second of all. . .once again, we are faced with SJM’s convenient Whatever-I-Need-To-Happen-Will-Happen story telling. She claims that Rhys is as different from all the other High Lords as humans are to fae. And despite this, he still gets tricked and overtaken by Amarantha, the exact same as all the rest of them. His powers were ripped away by that spell just the same as all the others. Being the so-called “Most Powerful High Lord in Prythian’s History” didn’t mean anything in that situation. He’s the mOSt POwerfUL HiGH LOrd iN HiSTORy, but was able to be totally overtaken by Amarantha just like everyone else. Looks like that title really should have gone to HER!

Anyway. . .as Rhys feels his powers being ripped away, we are told that in desperation, he “threw the shield around Velaris”, binding it to my friends so that they had to remain or risk that protection collapsing and used the last dregs to tell them mind to mind what was happening and to stay away”.

What a noble sacrifice right??

INCONSISTENCY ALERT: There were ALREADY spells and protections hiding Velaris and there had been for years!!!!!!

The first time I read Rhys’s explanation of this, I was super confused. SJM tells it like he was the one who created Velaris’s shield and protection right there in this moment. That this act was the only thing that kept it hidden and safe from Amarantha. But like. . .this is not the case!!!!

Don’t believe me??

“Did you even think for one moment,” I said, my voice like gravel, “to extend that luck to anywhere else? Anyone else?”

“Other cities,” he said calmly, “are known to the world. Velaris has remained secret beyond the borders of these lands for millenia. Amarantha did not touch it because she did not know it existed. None of her beasts did. No one in the other courts knows of its existence, either.”

“How?”

“Spells and wards and my ruthless, ruthless ancestors, who were willing to do anything to preserve a piece of goodness in our wretched world.”

(ACOMAF, page 144)

The Velaris Wiki page states:

To preserve it, an ancient High Lord kept Velaris a secret, and so did his descendants. There are many spells on the city itself—laid by him, and his heirs, that make those who trade here unable to say anything about the city and possess the skill to convincingly lie in order to keep the origin of their goods and ships, hidden from the rest of the world. Rumor has it that an ancient High Lord doused his blood upon the stones and river to keep that spell eternal.

And then in ACOMAF, we get:

“I used the remainder of my power to shield them all from sight and sound. I had only enough for one city--one place. I chose the one that had been hidden from history already. I chose, and now must live with the consequences of knowing there were more left outside who suffered. But for those here. . .anyone flying or traveling near Velaris would see nothing but barren rock, and if they tried to walk through it, they’d find themselves suddenly deciding otherwise. And because my powers were focused on shielding them all, Feyre, I had very little to use against Amarantha.”

So, which is it?? Did your ancestors shield and protect Velaris or did you??

Do you see the contradictory writing here?

Again, in ACOMAF:

“You are safe here, and safe anywhere in this city, for that matter. Velaris’s walls are well protected and have not been breached in 5,000 years.”

According to what Sarah J Maas herself has written, the city of Velaris already had extensive wards and protection on it for millennia. The city had been a safe haven from the rest of the world and a complete secret for 5,000 years. So I was very confused as to why it was being made out to be that Rhys made this Grand Ultimate Sacrifice to shield the city and its inhabitants from Amarantha, when this was already the case before this. She wouldn't have touched it because she didn’t know about it. . .words from Rhys’s own mouth!!!!

I’m sure in Sarah’s mind, she just needed to make a way for the IC to not come after Rhys and try and help him, so this is what she came up with. Regardless. . .Velaris already had protection on it that did not rely on Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren. You’re saying that with the last shreds of his power, Rhysand undid centuries old ancient blood protection of his ancestors, created an entirely NEW foolproof protection plan, and bound it to the Inner Circle??

I’d also like to point out that Kallias, High Lord of Winter, did essentially the same thing with Viviane and the Winter Court.

And in those last moments, when his power was ripped from him by that spell. . .Kallias had flung out the remnants to warn her. To tell Viviane he loved her. And then he begged her to protect their people.

So she had.

As Mor and my friends had protected Velaris, Viviane had veiled and guarded the small city under her watch, offering safe harbor to those who made it.

(ACOWAR, pages 410-411)

These situations are exact parallels of each other. Kallias and Rhysand couldn’t protect their entire courts, but they were able to throw shields and protections around the one city where their loved ones were. The Winter Court was ravaged by Amarantha’s troops, we know this from the story. But evidently, this one city where Viviane was remained protected. And in this situation, I have infinitely more respect for Kallias than I do for Rhysand.

Rhysand claimed he became Amarantha’s whore in order to keep enemies from looking too closely at who he really was and who he loved. He serviced her in bed and committed atrocious deeds in her name for 50 years. All this, he claimed, to protect Velaris and his loved ones.

So please explain to me how Kallias was able to do the same thing. . .WITHOUT doing Amarantha’s dirty work.

As I said, I know fully well that the Winter Court in general was not spared by Amarantha. We all read about the children who had their minds wiped (conveniently by some OTHER daemati who we never learn about or hear about ever again). It sounds like Amarantha tried her hardest to destroy the Court in general. But remember. . .the Night Court is not exclusively Velaris. If you look at the map of Prythian, the Night Court is huge! It’s the largest of all the Courts. We have no idea what happened to the rest of the Night Court that was outside of Velaris’s protection. Since it’s such a big deal that Velaris is such a whole, untouched city, I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that it probably wasn’t spared any more than the rest of Prythian was. So it stands to reason that both the Night Court and the Winter Court had one city that remained protected while the rest of their Court was destroyed.

Even further than that. . .it is specifically stated that Viviane offered shelter and protection to anyone who made it to that protected city where she was. Kallias begged her to protect their people and she did. It was a city of safe haven for any refugees who could make it there. (Viviane was Prythian’s first High Lady and that’s the tea).

Rhysand KNEW what was happening all throughout Prythian during this time. . .he helped partake in it!!! Did he think to offer the same protection for innocent refugees in Velaris during this time??

We all know the answer.

I’m not saying that Rhys was obligated to do this. In a horrible situation like that, I’m sure many people would enter survival mode and adapt an “every man for himself” mindset. It’s an extremely Slytherin move to make, and I don’t really mean that in a bad way. But at the end of the day, Rhysand prioritized his friend group over every innocent citizen of Prythian.

Kallias and Viviane didn’t do that.

Again, I don’t entirely blame Rhysand for this!! I think a lot of people would have made the same decision!! But just. . .don’t ask me to act like Rhys’s decision was some grand ultimate sacrifice that was more than any other High Lord made. It’s not. SJM, if you want Rhys to be my fave, why are you putting characters in here like K and V who do the more noble and honorable thing??

Kallias didn’t have mind powers where he was able to erase the knowledge of Viviane from every one UTM who knew about her as Rhys did with the Inner Circle. There weren’t already extensive, centuries-old shields and protection guarding the city that she was in. And despite this, he STILL asked her to protect their people, and she kept the city open for refugees who could make it there. AND he remained true to his cause and didn’t do Amarantha’s dirty work for her to “keep people from looking too closely”.

And yet Feyre and everyone else tell us constantly that “no one sacrificed as much” as Rhys. Yeah, no. My respect for Kallias and Viviane is 10000000x greater than Rhysand. Sorry, not sorry.

And this leads me to my next point.

One of the biggest issues I have with Rhys’s time UTM in general, is that his actions are treated by the narrative and the other characters as the MOST sacrificial out of all the High Lords.

As I’ve expressed above, I do not buy this for one second. And I actually find it pretty insulting on behalf of all the other High Lords!!

Rhysand’s choices and actions were entirely self-serving. He did nothing to fight against Amarantha or protect citizens of Prythian in general. It was entirely about his city and his friends. Again, I’m not saying I condemn him for this! It was a horrible situation and this was what he chose to do. People do crazy things for the people they love. But that’s my point. . .it was a CHOICE. He CHOSE to “service” Amarantha. He CHOSE to do her dirty work and commit atrocious deeds in her name. And every choice he made protected no one but the people who were important to HIM. So I’m just not really sure how/why I’m expected to feel the greatest amount of sympathy for HIM, over the other High Lords, many of whom stayed in open rebellion and never aided Amarantha. How easy would it have been for any of the other High Lords to attempt the same thing he did, and pretend to sympathize with Amarantha? Maybe not “servicing” her as Rhys did, but pretending to deflect to her side, doing dirty work for her, in order to attempt to spare their Courts and THEIR loved ones??? Did anyone else do this??? NO.

Rhys says he bows for no one but that isn’t true. He bowed for Amarantha. The other High Lords did not.

The High Lords of Summer, Day, and Winter lost their lives by refusing to submit to Amarantha. (ACOTAR, page 284).

And I’m supposed to have the greatest amount of sympathy for Rhysand??

People talk about how horrible it was for Rhys during those 50 years Under the Mountain. I’m not here to say his life was pleasant. But what I AM here to say is that in comparison to what the other High Lords’ lives were like. . .I find it hard to have MORE sympathy for him than the others.

“If that was what she wanted, then that was what she would get. I made her beg, and scream, and used my lingering powers to make it so good for her that she wanted more. Craved more.”

“For fifty years--whenever I was inside her, I’d think about killing her. She had no idea. None. Because I was so good at my job that she thought I enjoyed it too. So she began to trust me--more than the others. Especially when I proved what I could do to her enemies.”

Rhys is “so good at his job” of killing Amarantha’s enemies (and one assumes that Amarantha’s enemies are, you know, PEOPLE FIGHTING FOR PRYTHIAN AND AGAINST HER OPPRESSION) and so thorough in their sexual acts, that Amarantha begins to trust him. He is allowed certain freedoms that no one else has. He is not trapped for 50 straight years Under the Mountain. In ACOTAR alone, we see him visit the Spring Court three different times. Do you think any of those other High Lords saw daylight even once during those 50 years??

He is clearly allowed to move about as he wants to Under the Mountain. He visits Feyre in her cell several times, seemingly without Amarantha knowing. She is a prisoner of Amarantha, but he’s allowed to do whatever he wants to and with her.

Essentially. . .Rhys lived as a member of Amarantha’s court UTM. He served as her fuck buddy and one of her main attack dogs. To our knowledge he wasn’t tortured, starved, or forced to watch, powerless, as someone or something he loved was dangled over him. High Lords were losing their lives living in open rebellion against Amarantha, while Rhys lived with a level of security that no one else had. I am NOT saying that servicing Amarantha was pleasant for him, obviously it wasn’t. But at the end of the day. . .this was a choice he made. Everyone makes choices and has consequences of those choices. Rhys chose to serve Amarantha in bed and was given a position of power and security that no one else had. The other High Lords chose to openly oppose and resist her and subsequently had to suffer and live in terror with none of the freedom or choices Rhys was given. I honestly fail to see how Rhys’s decision was more valiant than all the rest.

Again, this is NOT me trying to say that Rhys did not suffer at all UTM. I completely acknowledge that he suffered his own type of torment. I just get very sick and tired of him being treated as if he is the Greatest, Most Suffering, and Only Martyr in all of Prythian.

I often say that Sarah writes all of these characters and this entire story in a way that elevates and favors Rhysand, even if in doing so she has people saying and doing things that make absolutely no logical sense. Everything that happens after UTM is a prime example of this.

The fact that the other Courts and High Lords are so quick to trust Rhysand and work so closely with him after the events of UTM is downright ridiculous and makes absolutely no sense. All of them have EVERY reason to be extremely mistrustful, if not openly hostile to him, after what they witnessed for 50 years. I myself do not understand most of his actions during ACOTAR. Let’s dive into all of THAT.

I made a post separately on this, but I’ll still comment on it here. Rhys claims that he “thought” about killing Amarantha the entire time he worked for her. However, he claims:

“I couldn’t use my powers to harm her, and she had shielded herself against physical attacks”.

There’s nothing I hate more than contrived convenient story-telling. To me, this is on the same level as Feyre not being able to have a C-section in ACOSF. We need it to be true, so we’re just going to say it’s true. . .no matter how little sense it makes in this context.

Rhys says that he, the most powerful High Lord ever born, had his power ripped away by Amarantha. On page 520 of ACOMAF he says, “Within a few seconds, my power belonged wholly to Amarantha”.

But does it??? Let’s take a look at all the things Rhys is able to do with his power during his time under Amarantha, without her knowledge or consent:

Uses it to enhance the sexual experience between him and Amarantha, making her beg and scream, and crave him (ACOMAF, page 520)

Broke into the minds of the three fae who cornered Feyre on Calanmai, reshaped their lives, their histories, and then made them confess to Amarantha that they were rebels (ACOMAF, page 523)

“Against my violation, my body straightened, every muscle going taut, my bones straining. Magic, but deeper than that. Power that seized everything inside me and took control: even my blood flowed where he willed it.” (ACOTAR, page 239)

“I couldn’t move. An invisible, talon-tipped hand scraped against my mind. And I knew--one push, one swipe of those mental claws, and who I was would cease to exist.” (ACOTAR, page 239)

Broke into Clare Beddor’s mind when she was captured and took away her pain, told her to scream when she was expected to, then finally slipped into her mind and ended her life (ACOMAF, page 524)

Visits Feyre in her cell UTM and heals her shattered arm completely (where was this power to save her from a C-Section???)

Mentally controls and commands the guards to stay out of Feyre’s cell and not touch her. “If you do, you’re to take your own daggers and gut yourselves. Understood?” Dazed, numb nods, then they blinked and straightened. I hid my trembling. Glamour, mind control--whatever it was he had done, it worked. They beckoned--but didn’t dare touch me. (ACOTAR, page 344)

Enters Feyre’s mind to influence and help her during her second task

Convenient storytelling at its finest. He may not have total control over the full extent of his power, but it is abundantly clear that he definitely has control of some of it! And yet we’re told that Rhys is completely unable to do anything to harm or kill Amarantha, because she holds all his power!! It belonged “wholly to her” as he said! But he’s able to do all of this stuff without her knowledge???

Forget killing her with his power!!! Lysandra killed Arobynn Hamel by slitting his throat in the middle of the night! I’m sorry, I do not find it believable that the Most Powerful High Lord in Prythian’s HISTORY was completely unable to find a way to end this bitch’s life in 50 years, ESPECIALLY when it’s explicitly stated that she allows him certain freedoms and he does things without her knowledge. I just don’t!!!!

So if I’M thinking that. . .what do you think the rest of the people UTM were thinking??? Can you see how they might be very suspicious of him??

In addition to this. . .his actions regarding Tamlin, and eventually Feyre, make zero logical sense in the context of their situation. Let’s take a look at THAT mess.

So Rhysand is suffering in this horrible awful torment, having to play Amarantha’s whore and do evil things for her. He hates every minute of it, he grows to hate himself, he claims.

And in this giant mess, there is only ONE road to freedom for not just him, but for everyone. And that’s Tamlin.

“Then she cursed Tamlin. And my other great enemy became the one loophole that might free us all.”

Rhys knows about the curse. He knows the stipulations and what Tamlin must accomplish. He knows that doing so will free them all.

Wouldn't you then think that he would do everything in his power to attempt to aid and assist Tamlin during the course of those 50 years?????

I know he hates Tamlin by that point anyway, due to the rivalry between their families. But, my God. . .would that really matter at this point?? If me and my entire country were stuck in the position Prythian was in, I don’t really think I’d give a shit who our freedom depended on. It could be my greatest mortal enemy and I’m pretty sure I’d still be like Okay Buddy, let’s do this. I wouldn't say I’d LIKE it. But I’d use whoever I could to get me and everyone else out of that situation.

If Rhysand, the Inner Circle, Velaris, and every other High Fae in Prythian’s lives and futures depended on Tamlin getting a human girl to fall in love with him, I would think Rhysand would be doing whatever he possibly could to further this along and make it happen. Don’t try and say that he couldn’t do it because Amarantha would find out. Rhys WAS able to keep secrets from her and do things she didn’t know about (see my big list up there! ^^) Don’t try and say that he wouldn't risk dropping his Bad Guy Mask because it would make people look “too closely” at him and possibly target Velaris and the IC (I would have a million comebacks to that. As I’ve already said, there were ALREADY extensive shields and protections guarding Velaris and had been for years. Rhys had wiped the knowledge of the IC from the minds of everyone who knew about them. And wouldn't the safer, better option for the IC be that the curse was broken??? So if he really wanted to protect them, this was the #1 thing he should be doing!!!!)

When it became clear to us all in ACOMAF that Rhys was not in fact, really a bad guy, the very first thing I immediately wondered was, “If this were the case, why was he not trying to HELP Tamlin all those years???” If that was their one loophole and their one shot at freedom and ending the nightmare they were in, why on EARTH did Rhys spend 50 years bullying, manipulating, and tormenting the ONE PERSON who had a shot at freeing them??!?!?!?

Rhys tells Feyre in Chapter 54 of ACOMAF:

“I didn’t know. That you were with Tamlin. That you were staying at the Spring Court. Amarantha sent me that day after the Summer Solstice because I’d been so successful on Calanmai. I was prepared to mock him, maybe pick a fight.”

Again, do not tell me that Rhys was a slave to Amarantha so there wasn’t anything he could do. That is NONSENSE. After Calanmai he crafts an entire fabricated story to tell her and brings people he’s mind manipulated into validating what he’s saying.

Instead of offering Tamlin support, or at the very least, leaving him alone, he chooses to terrorize him and his people. He leaves severed heads on the manor house grounds, taunts Tamlin about the curse, and taunts Lucien about his mother and his dead lover. Listen to what he says to Tamlin and Lucien, before he knows Feyre is there:

“What a pity that you must endure the brunt of it, Tamlin--and an even greater pity that you’re so resigned to your fate. You might be stubborn, but this is pathetic.”

“Little Lucien. You certainly gave them something to talk about when you switched to Spring. Such a sad thing, to see your lovely mother in perpetual mourning over losing you.”

“She’s already preparing for you. Given your current state, I think I can safely report that you’ve already been broken and will reconsider her offer.”

This is flat out disgusting behavior. This is the man you want me to have sympathy for, to view as the “better man”. Tamlin and Lucien were even greater victims at this point than Rhys was himself. They were running out of time after desperately fighting a losing battle, with the entire weight of Prythian on their shoulders. Rhys’s actions do not make sense. He is digging his own grave by behaving this way. If he wanted himself and everyone to be free so badly, I’m really not sure why he’s going out of his way to mock Tamlin, make his life difficult, and taunt him about not breaking the curse.

But things don’t stop there! They get even MORE illogical when Feyre enters the picture!!

So once Rhys discovers Feyre’s presence, he immediately picks up on the emotional connection between her and Tamlin. In this situation, I would expect his first reaction to be glee. He didn’t know who Feyre was at that point, other than a girl he’d been dreaming about (and he later reveals that he first believed these dreams meant that she would be the one to save them all). Did anyone really expect Tamlin to break that curse?? Did anyone really expect him to find a human girl with hate in her heart for the Fae and have her fall in love with him?? I don’t think for a minute Amarantha actually believed there was even the slightest chance of this happening, just like she didn’t really believe Feyre had any chance of winning all three of her trials. It’s a mind game, nothing more. But here Tamlin is, on the very brink of meeting the very specific standards set by Amarantha.

But what does Rhys do? Amp up the dramatics to scare Tamlin into sending Feyre back across the wall, therefore ensuring that the curse will never be broken.

His reasoning, he tells us in ACOMAF, is:

“I made Tamlin beg--as Amarantha had made me beg, to show him how powerless he was to save you. And I prayed my performance was enough to get him to send you away. Back to the human realm, away from Amarantha. Because she was going to find you. If you broke that curse, she was going to find you and kill you.”

Um. . .if Feyre breaks the curse, that means that Tamlin gets his powers back. If Tamlin gets his powers back, Amarantha is dead. If Tamlin didn’t do it, certainly one of the other High Lords would have. If you’ll recall, Feyre DOES break the curse and when that happens, Amarantha is dead in literally seconds. Her power isn’t brute strength, it’s trickery. She is no match for Tamlin whatsoever. She literally backs away in fear and pleads for her life. It’s not even a close competition!!! She doesn’t get a single scratch on him!

Now, I will fully admit. . .this was also something I always found kind of dumb on Tamlin’s part as well. It’s seen as this grand act of love that he sends her away and puts her safety before all of Prythian’s but I’ve always been like. . .dude. You were literally A DAY away from getting out of this thing. Tamlin, as a High Lord with his full power returned, really couldn’t shield and protect Feyre in the time it would take him to kill Amarantha? Yes, he wouldn't be able to properly protect her under their current circumstances without any of his real power, but that was the whole point of the curse. . .if Feyre told Tamlin she loved him and meant it, his power would be returned. The way in which he would be able to protect her would not be the same. You’d think at the point they were at, both Tamlin AND Rhysand would be bouncing around like the singing candlestick and clock from Beauty and the Beast trying to woo a confession out of Feyre. Kallias was able to shield Viviane for 50 years while his Court was under direct attack, I have to believe Tamlin could shield Feyre for the very short time it would take him, or any other High Lord, to end Amarantha.

Rhys later says:

“If there was a shot of freeing us from Amarantha, you were it. I thought. . .I thought the Cauldron had been sending me these dreams to tell me that you would be the one to save us. Save my people.”

So. . .if this were the case, wouldn't it make more sense to just get a happy little “I love you” out of her before the 50 years were up? Tamlin and the High Lord’s powers would return and Amarantha would be “bloody ribbons”, as SJM likes to say, in seconds. Which is exactly what happened. All the struggle and strife of her trials UTM totally avoided!!

What I’m essentially trying to say here is that most of Rhys’s actions during this time were in direct contradiction to what he claimed he really wanted. If Tamlin was Prythian’s only shot at freedom for all those years, you’d think he would be trying to secretly aid him in some way, or at the very least, not go out of his way to torment him. If Feyre was in Tamlin’s house, clearly in love with him, and the Curse was expiring in one day, you’d think he’d go back to Amarantha and be like “Nope, sorry, nothing to report” and pray the two of them would get it together for the sake of Prythian.

Essentially, what I’m trying to say here is that I struggle to have a ton of sympathy for Rhys during this time because I feel as if the explanations that are given for his behavior and actions are flimsy and don’t hold up against most arguments. He felt as if he HAD to become Amarantha’s lover and lapdog in order to keep her from figuring things out about his friends and trying to hurt them. . .who were concealed in a city that hadn’t been breached for 5,000 years and the knowledge of them had been wiped from every person who knew them UTM. He “couldn’t” kill or hurt Amarantha because his power belonged “wholly” to her. . .but he was able to use his powers in ways that worked against her without her knowledge or consent about tons of other things. He was so tormented and miserable in his time UTM that he. . .mocked and tormented the one person who had a shot at freeing them all. When he saw that Tamlin was right on the brink of actually breaking the curse he. . .manipulated him into ensuring that it would never be broken. All the while being surrounded by other leaders who did not have the luxury of shielding their loved ones in an anciently protected city, who worked to help all innocent citizens of Prythian, and who were losing their lives over their refusal to submit to an evil tyrant. I have a vastly larger degree of sympathy and respect for these other High Lords than I do with Rhysand. I find Rhys to be either very self-serving, or doing things that seem to directly contradict what he claims he wants. I do not blame any of the High Lords for being wary and mistrustful of him after UTM--it makes perfect sense that they would (but that’s a topic for another section of this rant!). This is a prime example of SJM self-sacrificing through her writing. I can guarantee you I wouldn't feel as strongly about this as I do after hearing it beaten into my head over and over what a noble, selfless, honorable hero Rhys was during this time. I’m sorry, it doesn’t add up to me. Too many holes, too many contradictions. Which, unfortunately, is pretty standard fare when it comes to Rhys.

Remember, this was only Part 1!! Part 2--Why Rhys is actually a terrible High Lord--coming soon!

#acotar critical #sjm critical #anti rhysand #tamlin #kallias #viviane #amarantha

336 notes · View notes

ghooostbaby · 1 year

Text

Now that i am fixated on he xuan and hua cheng’s dynamic, rereading the black water arc and seeing all of the tiny but meaningful ways they talk to each other is kind of a delight. I suppose on the surface it might seem that they’re kind of passive aggressive in their communication and at minimum are kind of prickly with each other. However, obviously all their face-to-face interactions are shown through the perspective of xie lian, who they need to convince that they are a legitimate god and the ghost king who kidnapped and tortured said god. they’d have to be pretty inept if they got along any better in front of a heavenly official... if you pay attention, it becomes clear how they’re actually always working together and helping each other out.

When shi qingxuan and “ming yi” first show up at the puqi shrine, hua cheng and ming yi react to each other with intense animosity and hua cheng tells ming yi to leave and not come back, and ming yi responds “coming here was not my choice!” The narration explains specifically that their reactions to each other must be because they had last met when hua cheng had kidnapped and tortured ming yi, at least as far as shi qingxuan and xie lian are concerned - so it seems to me that they are putting on a good act to help keep he xuan’s disguise up, while hua cheng is communicating objections to he xuan involving xie lian, and he xuan is responding that he doesn’t want to, but his hand has been forced by shi qingxuan.

Then when they’re going over shi qingxuan’s scrolls hua cheng corrects the mistakes that the kills attributed to the Reverend, and that actually some kills were his own and some were Black Water’s, and then has a pretty good time insulting Shi Wudu. All of that could be typical for Hua Cheng, and there also could be a lot of other double meanings read into it, but I just think that He Xuan probably enjoyed hearing that a lot. And when Hua Cheng describes how the Reverend goes after not only the prey but all its family and friends … something about it feels like he’s speaking for He Xuan’s benefit, speaking out loud all the things He Xuan can’t say yet about what happened to him so Shi Qingxuan has to be forced to deal with it, which I think would be a little satisfying for He Xuan. Hua Cheng seems to be giving him face, showing respect…

Then when they go through the array and Shi Qingxuan gets quite close to the truth of who meddled with the array, Hua Cheng starts babbling accusations and twisting logic so Shi Qingxuan gets confused and distracted and they move on. On the surface it looks like its because Hua Cheng could look guilty himself and he was showing that he wasn’t there to meddle or help, just to be with Xie Lian … but suspicion of Ming Yi was the most probable cause of the array taking them to a wrong place, and Hua Cheng’s contributions mean they barely consider it at all.

“What’s with that look? In my opinion, don’t you think Lord Earth Master is the most suspicious one?” said Hua Cheng.

Ming Yi’s eyes also swept over.

Hua Cheng added, “Instead of focusing on guessing who meddled after, what if the array he drew was wrong from the beginning? You don’t necessarily need a reason to do something. Lord Wind Master, you yourself are suspicious too.”

“Huh?” Shi Qingxuan had never thought the tables would turn on him, and pointed at himself. “Who? ME?!”

“Yeah. A thief crying thief is a common thing,” Hua Cheng said. “Just why have you come? If you and your esteemed brother are truly scared of the Reverend of Empty words, why were those rags cobbled together? It’s not a stretch of the imagination to think that the two of you schemed, and intentionally led us here.”

Just by looking at his expression, one could tell that he was cheekily gabbing nonsense; but he looked so confident that almost anyone would start doubting too. Shi Qingxuan was almost shaken.

(the last part ahahaha hua cheng <3)

Even in the novel as a whole - hua cheng and he xuan do a lot of things to benefit the other that otherwise they wouldn’t have wanted to. They always have a self-serving reason to pass it off as instead of “i just love my ghost king pal <3” but i firmly believe hua cheng and he xuan respect and *gasp* care about each other!!!

hua cheng lies to xie lian to support he xuan's plans in the black water arc and i think it would take a LOT for hua cheng to do that. And in the last book, he xuan comes when hua cheng asks to help shi qingxuan hold together the spiritual array fighting the human face disease, that also is not something he would ever do lightly- even when he does come he seems very angry, as well as that this is the only time he shows his face around shi qingxuan again, and he hadn’t shown his face to anyone since his revenge but for this either.

Also in the last book, he xuan lets hua cheng trash his territory and pretty much smash apart his bonefish, and hua cheng says he can do this because of he xuan’s debt, but 1.) it doesn’t seem like he xuan is ever paying him back, or that there’s any kind of a collection deadline, he xuan just keeps taking more and more, 2.) hua cheng doesn’t seem liable to let someone take so much from him if he had wanted to be paid back, and 3.) hua cheng does not seem to care about any of his nice possessions and wealth, he’s pretty careless with the rare treasures he has, his own mansion burning down (twice?), and so on. He seems pretty unfussed about spending his resources as if there is always more where that came from. (credit to @muigiel for this observation) So i do think this is a purposeful mislead. Like the debt is a good cover for them to do nice things for each other :3 (i love them)

I think in general in tgcf ghosts and gods are not as they appear, and the more i look into ghosts in this book the more full of goodness, hope, love, and life they seem to be. (qi rong is an outlier and should not be counted. Ok but he is loved by guzi who apparently finds him to be a better father than the original (omg i’m so sorry guzi) so he does count a little i guess?)

I think a good indicator of how the actions of these ghost kings should be taken is given in the moment with hua cheng, xie lian and guzi where guzi is afraid of hua cheng on sight, and xie lian says, “don’t worry, this gege is a good person” and hua cheng says “no, i’m a very bad person” while making a cute little butterfly fly over to guzi. in hua cheng’s and he xuan’s responses to each other it’s as if they’re saying “i’m a very bad bad person” while making little butterflies fly toward each other. if we miss that I think we’ve missed something important about the story.

#tgcf #he xuan #hua cheng #huaxuan #ghost kings

363 notes · View notes

avatarrecom · 6 months

Text

Day 15: Size difference

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Human!reader (can be read as character x reader)

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Trying to get the other prompts out asap. Also, I'm curious, do you guys think my kinktober headcanons fit the Recoms? Or not? or would you change certain things about how I write them? And what do you guys think of my characterization?

Kinktober masterlist

🌍 Recom Miles Quaritch The difference in size between you and him can drive him crazy. You're so small compared to him, completely covered when he hugs you. Your fingers barely wrap around his thumb. His shirt looks like a dress on you. You're his adorable little one. He holds you close, making love to you from behind. His size may be a challenge, but you'll handle it, won't you? He can't even put into words how his shape fills you up, creating a bulge in your belly. He's giving it to you so well, guiding your hand to feel his presence inside you. "Feel that, baby? That's me deep inside you. You're doing so good, taking me so well. Are you proud of yourself? Because I am. You're so lost in pleasure right now, aren't you? What if we have a child together? I bet your belly would look even more beautiful with our little one inside." Don't worry, he won't harm you. He'll take care of you, dressing you in his shirt. Panties and bras? Who needs them? His shirt is enough for someone as cute as you. There's no need to hide your private parts because they all belong to him.

😈 Recom Lyle Wainfleet Lyle secretly revels in the contrast between your sizes. When he holds you close, he can't help but notice how petite you are compared to him. While he may appear to be affectionately caressing your stomach, he's actually mentally measuring how deeply he can penetrate you. However, he's mindful of not causing any unintentional harm, so he allows you to set the pace. Despite all the preparation he's done beforehand, your tightness still surprises him, causing him to tightly grip the bed sheets as he witnesses your efforts to accommodate him. The sensation of your walls gripping him sends shivers down his spine, testing his self-control. As he observes you whimper whenever you accidentally push too far, he experiences a mix of nervousness and intense arousal. The gentle contractions of your inner walls make him tremble as he struggles to maintain composure. But when he sees that small smile grace your lips and the pride gleaming in your eyes as you finally take him in completely, he finds you irresistibly adorable. He softly praises your accomplishment, urging you to relax and let him take charge.

🍬 Recom Z-dog I’m pretty sure that when she’s fingering you, her fingers feel like a thin, but long human sized cock. So her size kink isn’t exactly fixated on that, but more on how she has to get on her knees to kiss you or you have to climb on something to reach her lips. Loves how she can pin your hands with one hand and barely any effort. She also loves how she can pin your entire body with hers. If you’re being a brat and you pissed her off, she definitely picks you up and holds you under her arm like a football while she storms back to her room to fuck the brat outta you.

🥽 Recom Walker Same as Z-dog. But she also loves to pin you against the wall, slot her thick thigh between your legs and with her knee against the wall, she slides her leg up until you’re literally sitting on her thigh and you’re face to face with her so she can kiss you.

😎 Recom Mansk He's a massive guy, and he can't help but notice how small you are compared to him. It's like you're fragile and delicate in his arms, and it drives him crazy. Your hands can barely wrap around his impressive size, and it's a sight to behold. Because of the difference in size, he feels this overwhelming need to protect you, to shield you from anything that might harm you. And he absolutely loves it. But don't be fooled, because as soon as he knows you want him to take control, he'll do it without hesitation. Thankfully, he'll make sure you're ready for it, because otherwise, it would be a real challenge to handle all of him. And even with all the preparation, it's still an incredibly intense experience that leaves you in tears after just half of him. But he'll be there, whispering the sweetest words of encouragement, reminding you how well you're doing and urging you to keep going. Once he's fully inside you, he'll make sure that you can't think of anything else but him and his cock. It's a mind-blowing experience that will leave you completely captivated by him.

🧯 Recom Prager He only discovered his size kink when you entered his life. The stark contrast between your tiny frame and his larger stature excites both of you. Behind closed doors, however, he takes advantage of this size difference. His strength, combined with his significant size advantage, turns you both on. He effortlessly pins your wrists above your head with one hand, or holds your waist with both hands, his fingers barely touching due to your small size. Initially, he worried about hurting you during sex, given his girthy and large cock. But you reassured him, and he cautiously entered your petite boy. The sight of his length slowly entering you drove him wild. You were amazed at how clearly you could see him inside you, with each thrust causing a visible bulge. Your first time together was shocking, but now that you're deep into your relationship, he ensures that you feel every sensation. His tip hits your cervix, and the veins on his shaft press against your velvety walls. Despite the roughness of the sex, he excels at providing aftercare.

⚕️ Recom Ja He's not necessarily into size, but once he knows it turns you on, get ready. He's not only well-endowed, but also tall, and it really boosts his ego when you kneel before him and he towers over you. He'll use your eagerness to convince you to take more than you think you can handle. He loves watching you wrap your lips around him and try to take as much as you can in your mouth. "Hmm, not quite enough. Keep going, you can go deeper. If you do a good job, maybe I'll fuck you later." It really turns him on when your eyes water from trying to deepthroat him, so he starts thrusting into your mouth until you paw at his legs, desperate for air. You're drooling and flushed when he pulls back and wipes his thumb across your pink, swollen lips from trying to give him the best blowjob possible. By the time he flips you onto your stomach, you're mindlessly begging for him to completely ravage you, and he's more than happy to oblige.

🧢 Recom Brown He loves to praise and guide you as you take him inside you, even if you're initially hesitant about his size. Most of the time, you're on top of him and he'll hold onto your hips possessively, leading you down onto him. Despite his sweet words, he won't give you a break and will make sure you take all of him if he has to. When you're a trembling mess, he'll gently rub circles on your hip bones with his thumbs while you try to adjust to him. "You look amazing, Love. Look how well you're handling me. How does it feel to be so full?" He takes his time, starting off slow because he wants you to feel every inch of him entering you, driving you crazy. He'll make you lift your hips until he almost slips out, only to push you back down and make you feel that sensation of being filled over and over again. Only when you start moaning his name in pure pleasure, he'll pin you down and finally take you like you've been begging him to do.

📿 Recom Lopez Loves to surprise you with his size, making you struggle to accommodate him and squirm from the sudden stretch. Even when tears threaten to spill, he pushes you further, ignoring your pleas to slow down. He gets off on your desperation, especially when you sob about his size. "Weren't you just drooling over how big I am? Now you want me to stop? You're not going to be a good little human and take it? What a shame..." He acts like he's going to leave you hanging, but you quickly claim that you can handle it. He has you begging for his cock again in seconds because you secretly enjoy the burn. His dirty talk becomes even filthier. If you try to stop him by pressing your hands against his chest, he pins your wrists above your head and fucks you mercilessly.

⛓️ Recom Fike When you start complimenting him on his size, he'll be surprised to learn about the size kink. After getting over his initial embarrassment, he'll demand that you tell him how much you love his cock. Shower him with praise about how good and big he feels, and let him know that he's the biggest you've ever had. In return, he'll reward you with relentless thrusts that make you moan into the mattress. He'll even start leaking pre-cum when you agree with him, but you'll still beg him to slow down a bit because he's too big, too deep, too fast. However, you won't want to let go of his cock, so he'll keep going, pushing even deeper than before. Let him know that you're going to cum soon and that his cock is the only one that makes you feel this good and full. He'll want to imprint the feeling of his dick inside your memories as he fucks you until you scream his name.

48 notes · View notes

fushic0re · 1 year

Text

─ 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇

𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗬𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗘𝗡 𝗫 𝗙𝗘𝗠𝗠𝗘 𝗙𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘!𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗔𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗗 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 ❞𝗗𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗬❞ 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — you and lloyd’s fights are…intense.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. DARK THEMES. rough sex. knife play. consensual hitting. blood play. pussy spanking. degradation. possessive behavior. spitting. physical violence & threats of violence. yall know the drill, these 2 are literally insane and their relationship isn't ideal in the slightest.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑❜𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — the relationship dynamics between lloyd and reader in this series are not for the faint of heart. they’re not a cute couple. realistically speaking, their relationship can hardly be considered healthy. if that kind of dynamic is not for you, this is your sign to exit this fic. heed the warnings and understand that you are responsible for what you read. for a heightened and ✨ spicier ✨ experience, read while listening to “teeth” by 5sos slow + reverb.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

DINNER WAS TENSE as you and your fiancée sat opposite each other, the pair of you opting to occupy both heads of the table of the grand dining table rather than next to each other.

Fed up with Lloyd’s bullshit, you were fixated on ignoring him for the rest of the night. All you wanted to do was have a nice meal, a long bubble bath, and the California king bed in your master bedroom at your complete reign. Lloyd could sleep with the goddamn roaches for all you cared. Every now and then, the harsh clench of his jaw as he aggressively chewed and glared at you would catch your eye. You remained unmoved, your mood lightening as your hunger began to subside.

Once your plate was clean, you made your presence scarce, heading straight up to your bedroom. Humming to yourself, you flittered around the premise as you prepared for your night; removing your clothes, jewelry, and makeup while waiting for the tub to fill up. Like a kid in a candy store, you picked out your favorite Epsom salts, bubble bath, and a couple of essential oils and got to concocting your dream bath potion. When all was said and done, you finally sunk into the steaming water with a deep exhale of relief. Closing your eyes, you allowed your mind to drift into a state of ataraxis, hoping the essential oils would soothe the headache your fiancé had caused you.

They say when you think of the devil, we will appear. He did just as that the second his angered face danced through your thoughts.

“Stop fucking ignoring me.” Lloyd commanded, marching loudly into your ensuite.

You huffed sharply, turning around in the tub so that your back was to him. He didn’t appreciate the gesture in the slightest. Within the next couple of seconds, Lloyd had made his way around the tub, standing behind you with a ring clad hand wrapped around your damp throat.

“I could drown you right here. Right now. Leave your pretty body to the vultures and replace you with some other little whore who doesn’t dismiss me like I’m some cuck.” He growled into your ear. “You wanna ignore me? I’ll pretend like you never even existed to me.”

You scoffed.

“You won’t get rid of me. You can’t. You need me, you breathe me.”

His grip tightened.

“I don’t need anyone.”

“Then why am I still alive shit talking you, Hansen?”

The chord in him snapped. Lloyd hauled you up out of the tub by your jugular. You countered his rebuttal with viper like speed, reaching for a glass decanter and striking him with it. Trillions of tiny crystalline pieces adorned the ground as the glass shattered. Crimson drizzled from his temple down the side of his face, curling around his jaw before soaking the collar of his shirt.

“You’re ruining my bubble bath!” You shrieked angrily, attempting to free yourself from his grip and sink back into the water.

If he knew he was bleeding or was lightly concussed, he didn’t show it. Instead, Lloyd grabbed you by your shoulders and violently shook your naked form as he spoke.

“And you have ruined my entire day with your insufferableness, you dumb fucking brat!”

You cranked your head back before bashing your skull into his. It disoriented him momentarily. He took a moment to gather himself, shaking his head and reorienting his center. A wicked stretched across his loathsomely handsome face from ear to ear.

“Oh no you don’t.”

Like the complete heathen he was, he carelessly tossed your body over his shoulder and hauled you out of the bathroom. The marble tiles and his clothes were soaked, but it didn’t phase him. You thrashed wildly in his hold, screaming like a banshee.

“I said leave me alo—”

Your words were cut short when your body was slammed on the bed and you were met with a sharp slap to your cheek. His body loomed over you like a predator would its prey, clutching your face harshly and squeezing your cheeks together while you looked up at him with wide, inferno eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, princess. You know you like it—”

It was your turn to interrupt him with a wad of spit to his face.

Lloyd shut his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he wiped your saliva away with the back of his hand. His grin widened.

“Baby,” He began. His candy coated words were seemingly sweet, but anyone with a brain could see the venom oozing out of them. “Daddy doesn’t wanna fight with you.”

He reached into the back of his pocket and fished out a knife, the twin to yours. Its blade shimmered as the twinkly lights of the diamond chandelier ahead of you bounced off of it.

“So, I’m going to give you a couple chances because I love you. That’s what we do for the people we love, hmm?”

He brought the knife closer to you, tapping the flat side of its tip against your lips.

“We’ll leave this face alone though. It’s too precious.” He cooed. “Now, love of my life…”

Llyod leisurely trailed the knife from the skin of your neck, down to your torso in between your breasts. Its sharp edge just barely kissed your flesh, drawing the thinnest line of blood. Your fire didn’t die. Despite that, you continued to glare into his cold eyes defiantly.

“Do you have something you’d like to say to me?”

Testing his patience, you remained silent. You wanted to push him to the edge and watch him lose his shit. And just as he thought he was the one in control, you wanted to be the one to force him back into subordination. Lloyd’s muscles relaxed as he mistook your silence for cooperation. His guard was slowly dropping.

Hook, line, and sinker.

A tiny giggle escaped your lips. It escalated into full maniac laughter in the span of seconds.

“Fuck you.”

Before he could blink, his knife was in your grasp and his back was hitting the mattress of your California king. It was now his throat that his own blade was pressed against, your body straddling his. For a split second, Lloyd wanted nothing more than to flip you over and make love to you until the sunset came up. You were gorgeous when you were like this; bare for him in more ways than one. He loved when you bore his soul to him, letting the pure madness that resided deep inside you out to play.

“You sure talk a lot for the only person bleeding right now.” You snarled, applying pressure to the blade and drawing more blood.

Lloyd chuckled, raising his hips slightly off the bed and firmly pressing his arousal against your unclothed core. The roughness of his pants against your clit nearly made you cave in. You loved the man, there was nothing you wanted him than to kiss him breathless, but he drove you insane. It was one of the reasons you fell in love with him. Not only could you adore him without any boundaries, but he was able to root up the deepest, darkest emotions you had ever felt in your life.

“This feels like a repeat of the first time we met. You tried to kill me.” Lloyd purred, grinding against you at an agonizingly tantalizing pace. It made you dizzy, your lids dropping down along with your walls.

He took the opportunity to take back the knife and sit up, nuzzling his face into your neck. He nosed the wound he created.

“I knew I’d do anything for you the second you held that gun to my head. That if I died right then and there, my last thought would be of you without a single regret. You knew that. You knew I’d follow you to the ends of this earth on my hands and knees no matter what. That’s why you keep me around.”

The blade once again made itself at home between your breasts. This time, Lloyd didn’t hold back. Swiftly, he sliced your flesh. Seconds after. He reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He pulled you against his body; flesh to flesh. Your blood smeared against his alabaster chest.

“But let me remind you, sweetheart. If I bleed, you bleed with me.”

Lloyd’s lips attacked your throat, his tongue lapping against at the lesion he created there. You gasped at the initial sting, the muscle feeling rough against the newly formed lesion. Soon, however, his ministrations began to soothe you. Giving in finally, you began to grind against him. The action caused Lloyd’s reverie to splinter. Before you could blink, the man had flipped you over onto all fours. He kneed behind you, undoing his belt and taking off the rest of his clothing. You knew you were in for it when you heard him expeditiously slip his belt from the belt loops of his pants. Expertly, he wrapped the strip of leather around your throat and fastened it. It wasn’t tight enough to hurt you, but it was tight enough to remind you of your place. The mere thought humored you.

“You’re going soft on me, bub—”

Your remark was rudely cut off when Lloyd yanked the tail end of the belt. Your spine was arched so hard it was almost unnatural. He drew himself closer to you, cradling the underside of your jaw affectionately before retreating his hand in between your thighs. Your head was cupped in his large palm.

“I’ll still break your fucking jaw.” His hand dipped in between your legs, meaty fingers dipping into your entrance and swirling around in your wetness. He massaged your clit in slow circles before withdrawing and placing an acute spank on your core. You yelped as one followed another in meteoric succession.

“You have pissed. Me. Off.” Lloyd seethed, landing a couple more slaps to your core before reaching in between his legs and gripping his cock. “You and that stupid, uppity fucking attitude of yours.”

He drove into you with one long thrust. You cried out loudly as you tossed your head back, not even recognizing your own voice as it left your body. Lloyd wasted no time, pistoning into you with so much force that your body was almost knocked over save for the length of his belt tugging you upright once more. His pace was rapid, barely giving you time to process when he was inside of you before he was retreating from your heat again. Lloyd wasn’t exactly the softest lover. Even when he was making love to you rather than just fucking you, he was still rough and possessive. You were used to marks on your skin and soreness between your legs as a result of your trysts. But this? He had never been this feral. A slither of you was fearful that this wasn’t the extent of his cruelty – that you had completely and utterly exasperated every ounce of mercy he had to give. But that part was just small enough to excite you.

“Do it.” You breathed. “Hurt me. I w-want—”

The words couldn’t leave your mouth, your brain only able to form wanton sounds of pleasure. He breathlessly cackled from behind you, planting a sloppy smooch on your heated cheek dewy with perspiration.

“I fucking love you. You were made for me. Say it. Use your dumb baby brain, and tell me you belong to me or I’ll fucking end you right here.” He growled in your ear.

“I love you!” You whimpered loudly, your eyes welling up with tears as the pleasure became too intense. “I love you, I n-need you, p-please...”

Your sentence trailed off as you panted wildly, your beloved’s pace and vigor unfaltering. You felt the stickiness of your blood on his chest as he pressed his flesh against your back, the sensation causing your eyes to roll backward. Lloyd kissed away your tears as they slid down your cheeks, chuckling lowly and sadistically.

“I love being the only person to see you like this. Submissive. Weak. At my mercy What would everyone think if they knew the person they feared the most could be taken down with something as simple as cock?” He taunted.

For once, you had nothing to say. You only mewled indecently, gripping Lloyd’s forearms, your manicured nails penetrating his skin and drawing tiny half moons of blood. Your reverie reached its peak as your walls fluttered around his length before unclenching compactly. All strength left your body as your orgasm sent you into a frenzied state of lust. Lloyd did nothing as you fell flat against the mattress, fisting the sheets in your palms as he fucked you through your high.

His large hands fell to your hips.

“You can give me another one, hmm, sweet girl? Give daddy another one, baby, make me cum,” Lloyd moaned lowly, his eyes closed, and his lips parted as he sloppily thrusted away.

You began to squirm as another orgasm rapidly approached. Lloyd cursed loudly before the first rope of cum was shot into you. His body crashed down on top of yours, hips still moving on their own accord as he pumped every last drop of his spent into your core. You hummed in content, basking in his warmth. You reached up with one arm, grasping the back of his neck and tangling your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck. He practically purred your affection, leaning down to litter butterfly kisses across the span of your naked back. There was a peaceful silence as the two of you caught your breath, your bodies coming down from the wear and tear of your activities. It wasn’t until Lloyd cupped your face gently and turned it towards him that you realized that time had indeed passed.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered earnestly.

Shaking your head, you leaned forward and placed a loving kiss upon his awaiting lips.

“No, I am.” You lamented. “I forgot what we were even fighting about.”

He chuckled, nosing your shoulder affectionately.

“That means I did my job well.”

Snorting, you flicked his forehead. He chuffed aggravatedly.

“Has my head not suffered enough damage today? You literally headbutted me and hit me with a vase! Why the fuck would you do that, woman?!”

You soothed the spot with a kiss.

“You owe me a new vase.”

#lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x asian!reader #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #the gray man fanfiction #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen imagine #the grey man #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x asian!reader #chris evans one shot

292 notes · View notes

swiftfootedachilles · 11 months

Note

*vibrating intensely* hi please tell me your autistic Mickey headcanons I'm collecting them

ohhhh i have so many thoughts

ive already talked about this ad nauseum previously but i always have time to discuss my favorites autist

his hatred of sleeves is totally an autistic thing. he just hates sleeves, specifically anything thats not long sleeved or sleeveless

he seems to prefer warm weather. he bundles up sooo much in the winter and he talks about moving back to mexico in s11. he would rather go back to prison than move any more north than chicago

i am once again mentioning that compulsory heterosexuality is absolutely part of mickeys masking. he seems to not gaf about masking about a lot of "typical" autistic things like not understanding social cues/rules or lacking conversation skills. a lot of his masking is more survival based like seeming straight and masculine and tough

^ which makes sense that when he starts unmasking, he likes patterned/hawaiian shirts :') he loves how visually simulating they are and he can tolerate the sleeves bc the fabric is very breathable and light

he really likes loud sounds specifically loud music and ambient/outside sounds like the ones he looks up in s11 to help him fall asleep :) he seems like the kinda person who can only do one thing as once, ie cant listen to music and play video games at the same time. when he does something he has to Devote Himself To It. if hes listen to music thats what hes doing. hes gonna sit there with his giant ass headphones on and stim or just cover his eyes and focus on the lyrics. hes s natural loud talker. he could yell over a jet engine if he wanted to. altho he doesnt like people raising his voice at him for obvious reasons. he cant stand pure silence it makes his skin crawl. ian loves his peace and quiet so mickey often throws on his headphones for parallel play. ian cooks or reads his book in quiet and mickey listens to deftones or doomscrolls on tiktok. parallel play becomes a huuuuge part of their bonding as a married couple :)

when he gets overwhelmed he completely shuts everything out. he acts like a cornered animal and lashes out at anything even if someone is trying to help. he needs space until he calms down or he'll have a meltdown and start throwing/breaking things or causing physical harm. sometimes he becomes too overwhelmed too quickly and completely skips the "shutting everyone out" stage and go straight to getting physical

he stims a lot by hitting or throwing stuff so ian trains him to use soft things like pillows and plushies (he absolutely has a plushie collection) when stimming. i think he also hits himself on the head sometimes. :( (totally not projecting) but be mainly sticks to his regular stims like messing with his eyebrows, chewing his nails, and biting his lip. he has an oral fixation! ian gets him a chew necklace. he likes singing and dancing with ian tho hed never admit it. he likes flapping his hands and jumping but hes still too embarrassed to ever do them. he unconsciously sways and rocks, especially if hes in the same spot for a long time

ian absolutely buys mickeys most of his sensory/stimming shit. lights, weighted blanket, spinner ring, chew jewelry, peelable clear nail polish, bike chain (which we see mickey has on his bedside table in s5 so i 1000% believe this was his first stim toy!!!) toy, tangles, different types of plushies (squishmallow, squishables, jellycat, reversible octopus (mickeys fav they both have at least one for every possible emotion), plushie dreadfuls, palm pals, different shapes and textured fabrics.) ian often steals a lot of these plushies; they are their first children. after they move back to the southside and are doing some work on their house, ian notices mickey still needs the catharsis of breaking shit, so sometimes they go on dates to the junkyard with baseball bats and destroy shit together

mickey literally cant be in the same room with ian when he eats his eggs with ketchup. the concept itself is so gross he cant tolerate it

hes very sensory seeking, again partly because of his oral fixation. he likes spicy food and LOVES sour food. obviously he loves candy and junk food. they have lamps, other small lights, and color changing led lights all over their home. eventually they both fall into a routine of communicating nonverbally using different colors of lights

mickey isnt great at communicating verbally tho he tries. sometimes he just cant, its too overwhelming and he cant think of the words to properly express himself. hes much better at conveying his thoughts thru physical means. this is part autism, part learned during childhood

he learned literally everything he knows about society thru movies. he uses a lot of old slang and makes niche references. he refuses to explain any of them to ian

sometimes he goes nonverbal and he texts only using (sometimes too many) emojis and reaction images that nobody gets except him

most people think hes weird and dont get his sense of humor but ian thinks hes the funniest person on the planet! they often make references to inside jokes in front of other people and it annoys the shit out of everyone

ok i have to stop now or im gonna go on forever thank you for the ask

#flamingbluepanda #asks #shameless #autistic mickey my betrothed #long post #wall of text .#a.txt #mine #my writing #ian number 1 husband he has a shirt that says 'i love someone with autism' and mickey made a matching one that says 'im autism '#autistic!mickey #autistic headcanons

79 notes · View notes

sch-com · 5 months

Text

Specific manifestations of anankastic / obsessive-compulsive PD in my life

see similar post for schizoid PD

When I first heard of my personality disorders, it was hard for me to notice their role in my life. Part of it was that I was younger, and with less experiences, but part of it was that by nature PDs are so ingrained it's hard to see the full scope of their influence. Particularly I struggled to see the "dysfunction" part - I was thinking that sure, I do experience that, but is it really that bad? And you can't have a PD without the dysfunction, so do I even count? I think that now, after some time and more reflections, I can say I do see the dysfunction, so I thought to share my observations.

Disclaimer: I am going to combine DSM V and ICD10 criteria, and omit those that do not apply to me

Using DSM V + ICD10 criteria for OCPD that are relevant to me:

1/ A preoccupation with order and details that results in the person missing the point of an activity / Perfectionism that hinders the completion of tasks

This manifests in a very classic way for me. I get overfocused on aligning shapes in my presentations instead of focusing on, well, the goal of the presentation. I get fixated on trying to undestand everything in my classes/courses - instead of seeing what the entire course is trying to teach me, I get anxious and feel like a failure for not understaning one concept. It prevents me from moving on and trusting the process.

A big one that deserves it's own point is when I am organising things. I organise everything in my life, and I get into those organisation obsessions. When I am in one, it's all I can think of. How to put those notes in order, where to put this thing, how to create a system that makes perfect sense. Instead of recognising that the organisation part is supposed to help me with the things I am trying to organise, I get obsessed with the details of the organisation system itself.

2/ Undue preoccupation with productivity to the exclusion of pleasure and interpersonal relationships to an extent that is excessive and not explained by economic needs

Very much connected to 3/ for me, more on that there.

When I was still in school, the feeling of obligation was overwhelming. I can't quite even find the words to describe the extent of this feeling. I neglected everything, literally everything to do schoolwork. Sleep, relationships, family, my health, just because I felt this enormous pressure that Have To. I refused to meet with friends, or to watch movies with family, or to do anything fun, or to even go to the doctors because I had homwork, or an exam. And I know everyone does that from time to time, but the frequency and intensity is what made it dysfunctional. Also, as it turns out, it only caused me more harm than good - me getting a good grade 5 years ago absolutely doesn't mean anything anymore now. And me not making any long-lasting relationships? Absolutely does affect me to this day. My priorities were not serving me.

Now I don't have this singular intense big obligation that school was for me, but I still am rather obsessive about trying to gain skills that would make me employable / not useless. Granted, I am failing miserably at that, but it is my main focus. And I still neglect other things and relationships because of work or some other task I deemed an Obligation. I literally work full-time and then study part-time on the weekeds, I don't think I would do that if I cared about friendships or fun...

I can't allow myself to do anything fun / think about anything else when I have an Obligation planned. And it doesn't have to be anything big - even when I Have To buy someone a gift, I will not fully relax as long as I fulfill the obligation. Which is stupid, because there are always things to be done, so I am permanently stuck in this.

And all of the above is so irrational... Like I come from a relatively well-off family. I have had a full time job for a year now, with permanent contract. And yet, I still feel this sense of Danger and that I Have To do all the things, like work and studying, to make sure I don't die (it feels like I will die if I stop).

3/ Reluctance to spend money on oneself or others and a belief that money should be hoarded for emergencies

The motivation for all from point 2/ always has been fear of spending money, fear of being useless, fear of not having the skills for people to employ me and ultimately fear of ending up homeless. I was thinking of this even when I was like 13yo learning geography. I don't know how normal that is. So, I have always saved up as much as I can, to have the money when something bad happens. I am saying when, and not if, because it feels inevitable.

Everything costs money, and when I am afraid of spending it it affects so many aspects of life. I don't go to fun events for which you have to pay. I feel bad going out for dinner with friends, so I isolate instead. I don't buy clothes unless the ones I have are absolutely unwearable. I postpone going to the doctors, or getting tests done when I have to pay. I feel bad even bying basic groceries.

This is a big factor contributning of me not going to therapy, because it's expensive.

I also feel even more guilty when other people spend money on me. Like, I absolutely don't have to work actually, my parents could pay for my university. But it feels too wrong. I can't. I physically can't allow them to.

4/ Reluctance to delegate tasks to or work with others unless things are done his or her way

Pretty related to 1/. Other people just don't care about the details, or doing things right as much as I do (which actually, good for them because I am the one in the wrong, but I can't help it). I hated group assignments in school because of this. And then I would put too much effort into a stupid project that ultimately meant nothing, and so the cycle continues.

On the flip side, it makes me refrain from tasks, jobs or even basic activities which involve other people, because I know I will suffer with trying to ignore the "imperfections", or they will suffer if I nag them about them. So it may be limiting in terms of what I take on. Like not choosing work that I would maybe like / benefit from because it involves groupwork. And let's be honest, in today's complicated world there aren't many things you can do completely alone. All big, important projects involve cooperation.

5/ Excessive conscientiousness and infexibility related to morality or values (not explained by one's culture or religion)

The main value I hold in my life is to cause as little harm as possible. And you know what is the easiest way to cause as little harm as possible? To do as little as possible. I try to not consume much. I isolate because I don't want to hurt anyone with my broken brain. I chose the line of work and study not because I truly want to do them, but because they are viewed as more useful/benefitial than what maybe I would have chosen otherwise. I don't want to be a waste, and a burden.

I also hold some other tangentially related philosophical beliefs, that most likely don't serve me, but they feel too right for me at the moment. To name a few: antinatalism, nihilism, atheism, pessimism (in the philosophical sense). I like to think I could become convinced otherwise, but that I just haven't heard good counterarguments, but I don't know. Some poeple have said to me that I am just stubborn and refuse to listen, so maybe it is my infexlibility and not the weakness of the arguments.

6/ Feelings of excessive doubt and caution

The thing that have defined my life since I can remember is this feeling that the world is a dangerous place. That I am unwanted here and that I have to prove that I deserve to stay. That I have to make the right choices, and be cautious to avoid pain.

It's hard to find specific examples, because it's something so ingrained I can't imagine how I would act otherwise? But even such things as avoiding going out at dark (impossible to do 100% of the time) that made me miss out on fun or important things. I never trust people fully, especially that they will fulfill their obligations to me. I never trust myself - that I deserve to be where I am, and I always feel at danger of getting kicked out of places. I don't trust strangers on the streets to even not attack me, even though it never happened? I could go on and on. I just have this feeling that I always have to watch myself, and my steps, and to prepare for the worst always.

7/ Intrusion of insistent and unwelcome thoughts or impulses

Probably a lot is covered in 6/ as well

I want to also mention my bfrb - skin picking. It's embarrasing to be honest. I pick everywhere, but especially on my shoulders to the point I look like I was burned. I like doing it, but I guess it is unwanted in the sense that I wish I didn't? I don't know, it's complicated.

I would also classify my obsessive need for organisation here. Like sometimes I wish I could just do something, instead of having this need to organise and plan everything neatly first.

For thoughts, it's pretty standard talk of not being enough, of not working hard enough, of comparing myself to others. I recently also started having flashbacks to random memories. I don't particularly want to think about the past anymore, and I wish they would stop.

I also get some thoughts that are like what many people think is going on in OCD - I get anxious about not locking the door, not turining off the oven, stuff like that. I do occasionally have to go back and check to calm myself, and even after I do I still think "but what if I didn't???". A big and constant one is thinking I lost/forgot my keys, wallet and phone all the time even though I am literally touching them in my pocket lmao. I don't think it's to the extent of a person with OCD though.

Fighting all of that just takes a lot of brainpower in my day-to-day, and that is pretty distressing itself because then I will spend my brainpower on thinking about how much brainpower I am using on those things? Ridiculous cirular thinking, that I am also experiencing in other aspects, but this post is long as it is.

#schcomtalk #anankastic personality disorder #obsessive compulsive personality disorder #ocpd #cluster c

21 notes · View notes