#and if it's not true i can see how it can be destabilizing to some people

[zmediaoutlet]

Hey Liz! Have you ready any good spn fic lately? :)

I have, and in fact I've been spite-reading. Have a curated wincest rec list you could share with anyone you like:

Bad Blood by astolat

Rating: E Word Count: 3,718 Summary: "Fuck me or I'm going to die isn't the world's best pickup line."  // "I've heard worse," Dean said. // "You've used worse," Sam said.

Original post date, 02/22/2007

Reccing because: No wincest primer would be complete without an astolat rec. You probably get fined by the Wincest FCC, otherwise. The flaw in astolat’s wincest, if we’re allowed to say such things about our saint and founder, is that Sam and Dean would sometimes fall into the whole thing super easily — this fic dispenses with that problem with a good ol’ classic dose of evil sex pollen, and if magic makes them do it then it could be a hell of a lot worse than how delightfully they do it here. I’m laughing out loud just remembering one of the scenes. Joys.

Coast On Through by philalethia

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 7,857 Summary: A post-first-time fic. With a lot of sex.

Original post date, 12/22/2007

Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest fic. Though the characterization is of its 2007 time, the Winchesters still feel like themselves, and more important feel like adults who are trying to navigate their very odd circumstances. A real classic of the brothers-with-benefits genre.

Keep Our Minds on the Sum of Each Other by lazy_daze

Rating: E Word Count: 9,593 Summary: N/A; provided tags are Bodyswap

Original post date, 12/26/2007

Reccing because: What a cheerful fuckin’ fic this is, for a fic about incestuous fuckin’. This takes the apocalyptic stakes and reels them back to a just deeply entertaining romp. Not too worried about the plot and much more worried about how hot these two are when they slam together, it’s a refreshingly non-angsty take on what it means that you just want to slurp on your brother wholesale.

Filthy Mind by rivkat

Rating: E Word Count: 26,384 Summary: Dean acquires unwelcome nightly visitors. Set post-Hell, without details as to how that happens.

Original post date, 10/07/2008

Reccing because: RivkaT is perhaps the all-time understander of the Weird Affect of Dean Winchester (As Played By Jensen Ackles) and the entirely destabilizing effect that affect has on the world. A real reality-warper. This fic deals with non-con and dub-con and who-knows-what-con and everything in between in a way that is more thoughtful than tawdry (although you can certainly enjoy the tawdriness as presented and the fic does not judge you for that). It also, thrillingly, deals with Sam’s alarm about the whole thing in a way which is fairly unflinching: he wants and does not want to want and also just really, really desperately wants-- Fans of Sheila’s analysis will probably enjoy this one. 

seeing double by candle_beck

Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 5,127 Summary: Dean has a concussion and his better senses come and go.

Original post date, 04/24/2009

Reccing because: I know there are more famous and more favored c_b fics, but this one is such a supremely perfect scene that it should be at the top of all c_b rec lists. It isn’t the catastrophic misery or assholery or intensity of some of the other big hitters but this just has this searingly true and singular experience coursing through it: to wit, that Dean is hurt and Sam is upset and then sorry and then in love. Which isn’t a half-bad summary of Supernatural itself, really. 

The incestuous courtship of the antichrist’s bride by fleshflutter

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 48,000 Summary: Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. He has a small army of angels and demons, he has an adoring cult, he has a work of prophecy by Jack Kerouac, and he has Dean. Things are going pretty well until he accidentally signs Dean up as his Beloved Consort, a role that requires sex with the Antichrist on an altar. And that's when things stop going pretty well. Also, the soundtrack to the Apocalypse sucks.

Original post date, 06/08/2009

Reccing because: It is so, so rare to find crack fics that work. This is crack treated like crack and also taken entirely seriously, which is a rare balance to find. When it needs to be horror it works, when it needs to be ridiculous it works, when it needs to be hot as fuck it works, and never has the phrase ‘apocalyptic cock’ been so appropriate and so wonderful in context. 

I’ve Got A Hand For You by Edwardina

Rating: E Word Count: 14,938 Summary: Sam's inexperience is showing, and Dean helps the best way he knows how.

Original post date, 03/12/2010

Reccing because: This is underage par excellence, as wonderfully weird and vaguely creepy and hot and alarming as it should always be. Dean’s 19 and Sam’s 14 and they should not but they are, and if that isn’t just a summary of Supernatural as a whole I don’t know what is. On the face of it this is a vaguely gnasty first time fic, but what sets this one apart is how earnestly real it is — the grimy-but-not-OTT reality of the details, Sam’s goofy kiddishness being complicated by the reality of what hormones are and do, Dean’s too-cool-ness alleviated by the fact that he’s nineteen and therefore still an idiot, trying earnestly to help and getting it wrong and getting it very right, all at the same time. The attention to detail here just knocks me over with a feather. Gorgeous work.

Two Part Invention by De_Nugis

Rating: T Word Count: 6,938 Summary: Dean settles down, Sam finds him, they settle some things.

Original post date, 12/25/2010

Reccing because: I very much appreciate a fic that, on the face of it, seems like an OOC premise, and then as soon as you think about it for fifteen seconds you realize — oh, of course, of course that’s how it should be and how it would go. This fic delivers on that feeling in spades. There’s a deep appreciation here for how complicated Sam Winchester is and how strange and hard it would be to have his life, and zero judgment, really, for what he and Dean have to do to make that life tenable. I appreciate the subtlety here so much.

Top This by leonidaslion

Rating: E Word Count: 4,076 Summary: Dean's sure he's a top. Only problem is, Sam's pretty sure that's his job …

Original post date, 04/10/2011

Reccing because: Is this crack? It surely is. Is it PWP? You bet. Is it in character? To be honest it hardly matters, but despite the context and conceit it does manage, somehow, to kinda feel like Sam and Dean Winchester from the canon of the show Supernatural, and that is a trick that earns it a spot on this list. Especially the way Sam goes slightly smug there at the end. Delights.

It’s the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu

Rating: E Word Count: 38,400 Summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments.

Original post date, 10/09/2011

Reccing because: Time travel fic is fun as hell, and time travel fic that just soaks you in dramatic irony is even more fun, and more importantly time travel fic where the time traveler doesn’t have all the answers is best of all. Very little is better than Dean being somewhat at sea and Sam loving him fiercely and this fic delivers that in spades. I could only wish it were a little longer, which is a very, very rare statement from me.

The Fall Will Probably Kill You by killabeez

Rating: M Word Count: 6,773 Summary: Set between 7.04 and the aftermath of 7.07. Dean is not as okay as he'd like you to think. Neither is Sam.

Original post date, 11/06/2011

Reccing because: This fic is thoroughly in and of and intensely about season 7, which I adored and which doesn’t get enough credit from the fandom. It deals with the Sam’s Insanity arc in a way that’s angstier and ficcier than the show itself but it does so in this stupendous and murderously flat way. Dean is at his wit’s end and Sam is, too, but Sam’s finding a way to deal with it, and Sam will not compromise on what dealing with it means, and we’re all just forced to live with it. Fantastic reading experience, especially for the almost literal jumpscare you get about 2/3s through.

The Hunter Games by theproblematique

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 92,601 Summary: When the infamous Winchester bad luck strikes twice in quick succession Sam and Dean are forced to compete in the most brutal reality TV show ever created. It’s impossible to escape the battlefield, hiding can only be temporary, and alliances inside those dark, bloodstained woods last about as long as it takes for the other Hunter to figure out how to use your weapons. And then kill you with them.

Original post date, 06/22/2012

Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest AU fic. We’re mostly all familiar with the source material, but this work blends the universe of the Hunger Games with the characterization & destiny of the Winchester boys in a way that’s extremely satisfying. The author’s other works are recced more often, but this piece is more deserving of a place as One Of Those Reclist Fics.

Kevin Tran for President by glovered

Rating: T Word Count: 11,714 Summary: Dean comes back from Purgatory to find Sam working as a barista at a coffee shop near Princeton, watching over Kevin Tran.

Original post date, 10/04/2012

Reccing because: Sometimes you just need a post-Purgatory fic that isn’t brutal. This story’s a light-hearted trip-along froth like most of glovered’s work, but there’s something in specific about this unfraught coming-together that makes it incredibly readable. Dean and Sam aren’t entirely on the same page but the relief of reunion makes everything else fade a little into the distance, and the charming little job they find themselves on here gives enough of an excuse for them to figure some things out. Also probably the best Cas & Meg side characters in a fic, so there’s that too.

Clear and simple and plain by Trojie

Rating: E Word Count: 1,893 Summary: After Sam gives up the Trials, things start getting better.

Original post date, 10/26/2013

Reccing because: This is a post-Trials fic where things don’t go incredibly wrong, which is a nice AU to sit in for a while. What’s impressive about this story, written in the time it was, is that it manages to presage the ~s11 era marriage very well indeed, in tone and vibe and even some content. They’re in the bunker and things aren’t perfect, but they’re together, and that’s a kind of perfection of its own. It isn’t sugary but it’s the kind of adult complex sweetness that makes one feel better, anyway.

hello by allwellandgood (formerly askance)

Rating: T Word Count: 4,128 Summary: There's a woman at the grocery store named Evelyn who always rings him up on the days he ventures out for food and she knows him, or likes to think she does. I hope you're not too lonely, she'll say. He chooses not to tell her that his dead brother sleeps at his feet every night. He'd rather not be the cause of her inevitable heart attack.

Original post date, 08/11/2014

Reccing because: So Dean’s dead. Everyone dies at some point. This fic is a beautifully soft and tender and bitterly kind way to deal with that. You feel Sam’s loss deep in your chest but it’s okay, because this is the world of Supernatural and there are options, and the relief he gets pours over like cool water. Not enough, and it’s not fixed, but it’s not as much of a misery as it was.

The Time Traveler’s Brother by amypond45

Rating: R Word Count: 55,458 Summary: Dean's life is turned upside down the night his mother dies. But that's also the night a mysterious grown-up version of Dean's brother first appears in his life. While Dean grows up, "Old Sam" is often there, especially when Dean's father isn't, and as Dean learns what the future holds, he begins to question everything his father has taught him about who he is and what he is supposed to become. Can Dean find a way to save his little brother from his own future? This pre-series AU follows Dean from age four to eighteen.

Original post date, 02/26/2015

Reccing because: It’s rare to have an AU so thoroughly engage with what the alternate universe it constructs means for characterization and plot. This does something outstanding with the Sam and Dean (and Deans) created by the conceit, but also uses that conceit to do something entirely new with the canon plot that just flips me over every time I remember it. There are some fantastic character insights here, both complimentary and not, but I’ll never be over the specific scene of young!Dean looking up at older!Dean and being disappointed. That’s him, that’s our little angst machine.

The King of Imperfections Takes Back the Prince of Mistakes: a fairy tale by britomart_is

Rating: E Word Count: 4,822 Summary: And they lived happily ever after.

Original post date, 06/06/2016

Reccing because: The summary is pretty much the summary and that’s such a relief, sometimes. They’re awful and stupid and they’re in love and love isn’t enough except it is, and they’re so friggin’ MARRIED in the most wonderful and dorky way. They have good-bad sex and they have idiot arguments and they’ve made it. Back in 2016 this seemed like the best possible option. Reading this story feels like reading 4800 words of relief.

Raw Food Diet by themegalosaurus

Rating: E Word Count: 2,959 Summary: Sam has one more meeting today. This one isn’t in his diary; not the public calendar everyone at the firm can access, nor the private one on his cell.

Original post date, 02/14/2019

Reccing because: If you were looking for depressing and almost revolting Lebanon AU, you’re in luck. This is serial killer!Dean at his worst and Sam Jobs at his (still slightly martyred) almost-worst and it’s the frankly gross and logical conclusion to: what would it mean, if those two horrible shitheads were still together, somehow or some way? It’s always almost a relief when fic manages to do a not-happy ending and this definitely does that. Refreshing, in its way, though you might want a shower after.

Ions in the Ether by nigeltde

Rating: E Word Count: 10,860 Summary: When was the last time you trusted happy.

Original post date, 03/12/2019

Reccing because: For any s2 obsessives as our author here is, this is a deep and alarming and inside-out dive into the obsession with a brother and with monstrousness and with what’s true and what’s not and also can you tell the difference, after all. A murky swirl through a shithole town, this fic picks and pries at wincest-as-concept in a way that’s somewhat achy and alarming and is overall delightful, if you’re willing to take the time to think about it. Plus Sam’s hot, which is of course a bonus.

there will be better days by deadlybride

Rating: E Word Count: 9,430 Summary: Sam and Dean settle into their heaven.

Original post date, 11/24/2020

Reccing because: I’m crass. But also I can’t think of another fic that feels as much like heaven as this one and I wanted heaven on the list.

#wincest #fic recs #happy wincest wednesday #this is partly borne from an absolutely shitty reclist i saw the other day lol #i admit to being powered by spite #Those Reclist Fics have a weird power over fandom #and i want better stuff to get read #so! read these! #and comment while you're at it

[eldritch-spouse]

HI AGAIN. Ever since I found your blog and also sent a totally normal ramble abt cannibalism I've been just. Gently tossing your guys back and forth in my head. You're a wonderful writer and I'm always excited to see you on my dash!!

Gonna throw my hat in as asking an actual question- How would your guys fare if their obsession had a particularly weird or morbid interest? I get the vibes that some of them would most certainly encourage it but I also feel like Vinnel would hit me with a hammer if I panic infodumped about ebola-

[Hellow, glad to see you again! Also, I know you probably just forgot, but "your guys" encompasses way too many characters to talk about at once, so I'll assume you were going for TCE staff.]

Morell especially likes hearing about your cannibalism infodumps. They're actually useful to him, since he's going to be living with you, and he needs to know what he can and can't feed you, as well as a possible child between you. It's actually interesting stuff, he'd like it if you talked about it to his family too, you're a smart piggy. Any other topics are usually met with less enthusiasm (unless kitchen/food related), and he'll ask you to quit it if you start talking too much about mushrooms. Overall, it's nice background noise to work to.

Patches is all about infodumping. In fact, you're subjected to it often too, even if he doesn't always stop to explain basic concepts you'd need to understand his rambling. He'll give you a recorder he has, so he can keep the sound of that boundless enthusiasm in your voice forever. He's much more participative than the others, asking various questions and tossing random scenarios at you that'll prompt you to learn even more. There's a potential he'll get distracted and stop working to just research this with you the whole day.

Gallon loves a weirdo -No offense- Feel free to dump all that morbidity on him, he soaks it up like a sponge (so does Martin, be careful). Although he prefers to let you speak unhindered, only egging you on when it seems you're getting passionately angry about things, there's a chance Gallon may begin his own little tidbit sharing regarding a variety of poisons and toxins. He's selective with what he lets slip, but figures it could interest you.

Santi likes listening to you. Doesn't matter what it's about. There's only one thing he doesn't want you to morbidly talk to him about, anything featuring kids. Other than that, you think a rant about the intricacies of cannibalism's effects will kill his mood? Hah, nice try. He usually doesn't have anything smart to say, but may actually pitch in with some first hand details if you mention something sexual and morbid.

Let's face it, this is going in one of Grimbly's eardrums and out the other. Unless, you can talk like you're in a true crime podcast, then he's all ears. Grimbly typically responds to these interests by bragging to others about how his Mommy's "so smart" and "cultured" and he learns so much with you! You should start a YouTube channel!

Nebul likes to hear what you think is morbid. He'll let you ramble when you've been good enough to earn his attention, or if it allows you to keep obeying him. He has his own morbidities to share with you, as a wraith who has seen the darkest parts of many a mind. Surely, you of all people would be fascinated to know how the brain reacts to very invasive types of trauma only some monsters can inflict...

Vinnel will use this to his advantage during shows. You're placed in dangerous games where the whole goal is for you to explain said morbid concepts to the audience while Vinnel or Jingles try to destabilize you so you'll fall into painful contraptions or get cut/bruised/undressed. Sometimes Vinnel pays attention to your infodumps, other times he openly doesn't, it's a coin toss.

Belo sincerely discourages you from seeking such dark information in your brain. A lesser's mind is like a canvas, and it shouldn't be furnished with such desolate knowledge... If your morbid interests somehow can shine a glimmer of positivity or utility, the angel will be a little more inclined to letting you keep pursuing these topics. Otherwise, Belo actively attempts to distract you.

Sybastian doesn't understand about 80% of what you're about to tell him, but he has all the time in the world to sit and listen to his favorite person spit words. He's not verbally communicative during these episodes, but he may clap depending on how impressive the information is, and he remembers things you say enough to sometimes present you with paraphernalia vaguely related to the topics of your morbid interests.

Fank-e is a good bet because he can add onto your information in real time, or correct small detail you may get them wrong. He's generally happy to give you links to more information sources and try to match your level of knowledge, uncaring of how dark the subject theme may be.

If there's one thing you can infodump to Krulu about, it would be diseases. Plagues and ailments of several types are his specialty, the chances of him imparting bits of knowledge you absolutely should not possess on this matter are high. Another thing you may infodump to him about is corvids. It gets him in very favorable moods, surprisingly.

#Morell oc #Gallon oc #Belo oc #Patches oc #Nebul oc #Sybastian oc #Vinnel oc #Santi oc #Grimbly oc #Fank-e oc #Krulu oc #hi-im-lugh

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

saw you might be taking requests? can you do a drabble where y/n is a survivor of domestic abuse and levi ends up raising his voice at some point and y/n gets triggered and levi comforts them? pls skip if ur uncomfortable with this!

absolutely LOVE that my very first aot request is heavy angst

You're Safe | Levi Hurt/Comfort Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.6k (i think this word count is just my standard at this point lmao) ✧ content/warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, dissociation, canon!verse, reader is a survivor of domestic abuse, levi being comforting in his levi way, all the not fun stuff that comes with being a survivor, please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings! ✧ notes ➼ I know that everyone's experience with being a survivor is vastly different. If you would like it portrayed in a different way, feel free to send me another ask and I will try my best to match it :) Not sure if this needs to be said, but if you ever need support or solidarity, my ask is always open!

You could tell that something was off the minute he walked in through the door. 

While Levi was rarely in a “good” mood after expeditions, you could tell that this most recent one must have gone much worse than anticipated. It was already getting late into the night and your anxiety was already elevated, having been waiting for Levi to arrive back home all day. The debrief must have taken much, much longer than usual, which was never a good sign.

You came out of your study to meet him in the living room, your heart dropping when you saw the dark look on his face and how ruffled his uniform and hair was. 

“Levi?” you asked quietly as you approached him. 

You could tell that he was exhausted and incredibly stressed at the same time. He looked like he was about to collapse down onto the ground and that it was taking all his energy to keep going.

You reached out slowly and placed your hand on his arm, gently holding him. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, shrugging you off. “Just a long day.”

You gave him a small, half-hearted smile, knowing that it was definitely not “just a long day”. However, you knew that it took Levi much longer than a normal person to process distress and decompress and given the fact that he was in the Scouts and took regular deadly expeditions outside of the walls, distress was a constant in his life.

“You know that’s not true,” you said quietly, turning towards him as he walked past you. “Talk to me, Levi.”

He stopped walking and you heard a soft sigh come from his mouth. 

“Not now, _____.”

You frowned at him, knowing that “not now” easily translated to “not at all”. Although you knew to give him space, you also knew that if he went to bed in distress tonight, then he would wake up even worse tomorrow, which would make him detach even more, leading into an endless cycle of self-destruction and stonewalling.

“Levi, please,” you said, approaching him again. “What happened? Talk to me.”

He stopped walking and quickly glanced at you with irritation showing in his eyes.

“I said not now, _____!” he yelled out, a bit louder than he had intended to.

You felt yourself flinch and freeze as your blood ran cold. The sudden and drastic change from near silence to his voice bouncing off the walls immediately brought your mind from the present reality and into a dissociative state as you felt your eyes lose focus and your ability to perceive the room around you began to dissipate. Your breathing destabilized as you took a step back away from him.

Given your current state, you weren’t able to see Levi’s eyes widen as he realized what had just happened. You couldn’t see his face pale upon seeing your reaction. You couldn’t see him walking towards you as you quickly turned away, maintaining distance from him. You couldn’t see him open his mouth to speak or hear any words that were meant to come out after.

“I need to go to the restroom,” you muttered quickly as you rushed to the bathroom in the most composed way that you could, as tears began to cloud your vision.

Once you were in the bathroom, you shut the door behind you and leaned over the sink, unable to keep the tears back any longer. You shut your eyes as disturbing memories, ones that you thought you had stored away for good, emerged. You shook your head in an attempt to get them to go away and took a sharp inhale, your breath getting caught in your throat. You vaguely heard that your sobbing was audible due to your unsteady breathing and you quickly covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle yourself.

You felt the world begin to spin around you as you cursed at yourself in frustration. You didn’t understand why you were like this. What had happened was a long time ago. You knew that Levi wasn’t that person. You knew that he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew that, even when he was frustrated, he would never take his anger out on you. 

So why the hell do I still feel this way?!

You opened your eyes again once you heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door with it slightly opening since you hadn’t closed it all the way. You saw Levi approaching from the other side of the door and you immediately looked away, quickly wiping the tears off your face in a vain attempt to keep him from seeing your crying, although there was no hiding your swollen eyes or how red your nose had become from sniffling.

There was a solemn look on Levi’s usually expressionless face. He knew what was running through your head. He knew about the rampant thoughts that must have been plaguing your mind. His heart had dropped once he saw your reaction, but at that point, it was too late to take back what had just happened.

“Hey, _____,” he said, his voice gentle and soft.

You continued to look away, averting eye contact. 

“I’m fine, Levi,” you said with a flat tone, desperately trying to mask your vulnerable state.

You saw him place his hand down on the sink near you without actually making physical contact.

“Can I come closer?” he asked, still keeping his voice low, never taking his eyes off you.

You were quiet for a second as you continued to try to control the tears that were gathering in the corners of your eyes again. You shakily nodded at him as you slowly turned towards him again.

He slowly approached you, pausing for a second before gently placing his hands on your shoulders. He had approached you slowly, noticing that you slightly flinched again when he raised his hands. The most important thing to him right now was to ground you back to the present moment, and indicate that there was no danger.

After he felt you slightly relax upon his touch, he pulled you into a tight hug, placing his hand at the back of your head to hold you in as you buried your face into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

Upon hearing that, you weren’t able to hold your tears back anymore as you gripped at him, with your sobs becoming audible. You pressed your face against him, as if you were desperately trying to hide.

“N-No,” you said quietly, with your voice slightly muffled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I still act like this. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t t-trust you or that I’m afraid of you or that I-”

“Stop,” he whispered, cutting you off. “It’s okay.”

He gently ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe and comfort you, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You continued to press yourself against him. Although you were still sobbing and soaking his shirt with tears, your breathing had stabilized and you no longer felt like there was a storm tearing through your mind.

You both stood there for a minute as he continued to soothe you and ground you back into the present. 

Once he heard you take a deep breath, he spoke again.

“Come,” he said quietly, pulling away slightly, and gently directing you out of the bathroom and into the living room, leading you to the couch.

He sat down, pulling you in as you followed suit. 

You curled yourself into a ball, resting your head against his chest, taking comfort in the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat and the warm touch of you leaning against him. You still felt incredibly embarrassed from getting so heavily triggered and continued to hide your face in him.

After a few minutes of silence, you finally took another deep breath and pulled away slightly to look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping away any residual tears that had gathered on your cheeks. “I feel pathetic.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows slightly coming together as worry entered his eyes at your statement.

“Well, you don’t have to, but I know it’s hard,” he said quietly, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear so that he could see your face better. “It’s okay.”

He placed his other hand on your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze as a method of reassuring you of his prolonged presence.

You gripped at his shirt to ground yourself. You were here with Levi. The person you lived with currently was not your abuser. The person you found yourself being held by was someone that loved you unconditionally, in the best way that you wanted to be loved. This person cared and would never bring harm to you. You knew that. 

Slowly, a small smile appeared on your face as you parted your lips to speak again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He returned the smile, pulling you into a gentle kiss that lasted for more than a few seconds. 

You allowed yourself to relish in his scent, his touch, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his hands against you, and how, despite him being relatively small as a person, you felt engulfed by him, as if his presence was able to wash away all of the chaos that resided in your mind.

He pulled and rested his forehead on yours.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, matching your volume. “You’re safe.”

#i actually loved writing this #tw: mentions of abuse #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackermann x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackermann #kats levi angst #kats levi fluff #kats oneshots #levi heichou #levi angst #levi hurt/comfort #captain levi

[supercorpkid]

Ace Reporter - part 3

Supergirl, Kara Danvers x Reader, Lena Luthor x Reader

Word Count: 2350

Part 1, Part 2

Your editor is thrilled with the situation you just got yourself into. Flying to Kaznia to find Lex's secrets, with another Luthor and a CatCo reporter is like a dream come true. To him. 

To you, this is probably high on the list of your worst nightmares. Anything Lex Luthor related would easily be up on your list, but with Kara's words hanging over your head since you last saw her, this situation is easily number one.

‘I'd make out in a closet too if you were my Lois’, keeps haunting you in your sleep. How dare she say something like that? It's not even like you were being nice to her all this time. Polite, maybe. Sometimes not even that. What would make Kara think that in a week or so of you being polite at best, you had any interest in making out with her?

Or is it a tactic to throw you off your game? You two are getting on a plane to fucking Kaznia with Lena Luthor. Maybe she is trying to destabilize you, so she can ask the best questions. Yes, this should be it. But you won’t fall for that. 

Kara Danvers will not distract you!

“Lena, hey!” She waves at Lena like two best friends would and you furrow your brows at the interaction. “Look who I brought with me! The best investigative journalist in the business!”

Kara turns to you and flashes the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, capable of lighting up the whole world. You bite your lip to keep you from smiling too.

Yep. You’re screwed.

"You remember Y/N, right?"

And then Lena comes closer, a big smile on her face as well, showing you her hand. “We’ve met. I’m familiar with her approach.” She raises an eyebrow at you while you shake her hand strongly. “Flattery and flirting.”

“Flirting?” Kara mumbles under her breath, shocked.

“It’s not usual, mostly circumstantial depending on who I'm interviewing." You match Lena's smirk. 

"See, I am flattered." Lena smiles, pointing to the private jet, and you follow her leaving a dumbfounded Kara Danvers behind.

"Are you coming, Danvers?" You add a little smirk, and watch her cheeks going a dark shade of red. You don't understand why you're flirting with both women, and enjoying it so much. But you're finding it hard to stop.

Kara Danvers is a good reporter. Knows her facts and asks the right questions. Her little notes are already worth the front page of the stupid magazine she works for. And yet, you find it hard to admit she deserves all the prizes in the world just for being herself. Strip her out of all her journalist qualities and she would still deserve all the prizes and all the best. There's also something else you've been thinking about stripping her out from.

You would rather die than tell her that.

Lena Luthor is a good… What is Lena's job description, anyway? CEO? Scientist? Hottest woman alive? She is good at everything. Creating a plane that flies itself, transforming her brother's evil company into something for good, having one of the sharpest minds you've ever seen. Those are some of the things that she can do, while looking extremely hot.

You might die if you can't tell her that.

But you're at a job. You can't go around thinking about Kara's muscular arms, and Lena's perfect eyes. Can't picture yourself with one or the other, or even between both sometimes. No matter how many times you find yourself in that exact position.

And it's weird, because you're quick to find that not only they have a good work relationship but they are also best friends. Lena goes to game nights and dinner dates with Kara and her friends. Has worked alongside Kara's sister and Supergirl (What? Nice!) several times to help save the world. They are all extremely connected, and you're the odd one out.

Usually you'd hate that feeling. But while you're at a job you actually enjoy that. You like that they are somewhat careless to talk about their everyday life and how much intel that gives you.

At least you were enjoying it, until the plane got hit with a lightning strike and you let out an embarrassing shriek in shock.

"Don't worry, it's just a lightning storm." But Lena's chuckle is not one that makes you calmer, instead, it makes you more nervous when you look out the window.

"Is lightning usually purple?" Kara asks the question right out your lips.

The airplane loses power. A bad sign. Really bad one. Especially when it starts dropping a few meters high, and Lena runs to the cockpit saying she is going to land the plane.

"We need to make an emergency landing, and I need an extra pair of hands." Lena yells from up front and you're up on your feet before Kara even has a chance to think about it. If you're going to die, you're going to fight for your life first, and not depend on other people to save you.

"We need to get the power back on." Lena points to the electric wires. "I have to believe you know how to hotwire something."

"What, do I look too much like a bad girl?" You snark, but your hands are already making quick work on the wires, and Lena celebrates with an excited 'yes!' when you get the engine back on.

"Bad girl or not, I believe you're my savior." Lena smiles, but it soon turns into a frown when she realizes she is going to have to land the plane. "Go check on Kara while I land this."

"On it." You get up from your place next to Lena, and go back to where Kara was seated. "Danvers?"

She emerges from the bathroom, looking flustered. "I wouldn't have eaten all that sushi if I knew this was going to happen. God, I hate flying." 

You hold back a laugh and the wish to say, she shouldn't have eaten all that sushi anyway. Lena safely lands the plane and appears next to you in a blink.

"That lightning wasn't natural, someone brought us down on purpose." 

Shocking. You're in Kaznia to find out Lex's secrets and someone tries to take down your airplane. Yeah, truly shocking.

You might have ruined the element of surprise, but there's nothing you can do now, except to go in and try to gather as much information as possible. You three make your way inside a military facility. 

Lena sounds completely shocked he would have an army behind him, you and Kara do nothing but share a look, not surprised and not comfortable in this place.

DEO, test subject, cloning, aliens, desert facility. They throw out words that mean something to them, but to you this is all pretty much new. You're not stupid though, you're quick to understand what Lex Luthor was trying to do by gathering aliens and trying to harvest their powers.

But obviously all this information wouldn't just be lying around with no one to guard them. You're lost and confused and definitely way out of place here. Lena realizes someone named Eve was working with Lex behind her back, and she can clone herself! Like, how is this real life, and why are you tangled in this web when it has literally nothing to do with you at all?

And yet, you're here in fucking Kaznia, running from a psychopath and trying to protect your physical integrity while Lena uses a electric shock thing to fight the clones off and Kara uses her fist. Oh, and to top it all off, there's also a loud alarm saying the whole place is going to explode in a few minutes. Great. Just great.

Again, how did you end up here?

You duck from a fist almost a second too late, but luckily Eve hits the wall behind you, and you can't help but yell.

"Shit! I don't get paid enough for this!" You say, while Lena knocks the clone you were supposed to be fighting out of the way. What the fuck is happening here, and why do the both of them know how to defend and fight and you look extremely stupid running and yelling for your life?

When you suggested you and Kara found out something about Lex, this entire situation never once crossed your mind.

Another clone comes at you while Lena is distracted and Kara is knocking one down. Ok, then. You turn your hands into fists, ready to fight. Before you have the chance to even move, she punches your face and you stumble back, hitting the wall. Ouch, and also, goddamn it! 

Kara is holding the clone by the collar of her jumpsuit, and tossing her away from you the very next second. How did she show up in front of you so fast? 

She touches your face gently, one eye blinking a tear of worrisome away. "You ok?"

There's a sharp pain on your face. You are not ok! Why the fucking hell are you getting punch here, just to find out Lex Luthor's fucking secrets just so Lena can give you a fucking ass quote about her brother, so you can come back home? This is not worth it!

"Find the way out. Get out of here." Kara instructs, after you slightly nod at her. 

Even though you are dying to do what she just said, you are stubborn enough to not let Kara Danvers get all the credit for this crusade.

"No! I'm in this until the end!"

But then a new clone comes running at you and Kara has to defend you once again.

"I'm not letting you get hurt for an article." She growls, impatient. "Get to safety, please. We're in this together. I'm not going to keep anything away from you. You have to trust me."

You squeeze your eyes shut, indecision crossing your mind. How can she ask you that? You don't trust her! You don't believe she is not going to keep something from you just so she can have the upper hand in this. But then again, why would she be protecting you with so much intent? Why would Kara Danvers shed a tear for your pain?

"Go, Y/N!" Lena yells from the other side as well. "We're right behind you! Find the way out, we don't have much time."

Your feet finally detach from the ground and you run out of there, trying to find the exit with the loud alarm clogging up your every move and your thoughts. 

Splitting up was probably the stupidest idea ever, though. Is not like you can fight the evil Eve's clone by yourself if you are met with one. You're still shocked Kara was able to fight so many with nothing but her hands.  

Actually, somehow, deep down, you're not shocked. Girl has those rock solid biceps, insatiable hunger, and behind that sweet dweeb face she looks so… so… Strong. Powerful. Super.

“Sometimes I think you have a secret.”

You hear your own voice, replaying a conversation you once had with her.

Kara Danvers just seems to think that clues and information fall on her lap.

But what if they don't fall on her lap because she is good at it. What if she just sees more than anyone?

Kara: What's up with Y/N?

Clark: Best reporter I know. Great at finding people's secrets.

What if Clark saying you're great at finding other people's secrets wasn't a compliment? What if Kara Danvers not wanting to work with you had nothing to do with sharing the byline but you finding out her secret, the one you're so sure she has?

You stop in front of a door, eyes inadvertently zooming in inside. It's a bedroom. There's a bed, a nightstand, and the awful green wallpaper is peeling off in several places but none of that catches your attention. What grabs your attention is the absurd amount of pictures on the walls. Most of them are of Kara and Lena together, but Kara is in every single one of them. Why is this? Who would have such a weird obsession with that nerdy dork?

Your eyes travel fast between all the pictures. The alarm is going off loudly in the background, mixed with distant voices and there's this somber atmosphere embracing you, making you just want to get the hell out of this creepy room.

But your eyes keep going, scamming the room for everything it has. Until your stomach drops. Blood runs cold. There are two pictures right next to each other that make your heart beat so fast, you can feel it up in your throat.  

Kara Danvers in one, hands on her waist. That nerdy looking face, glasses, crinkle, thin lips, that just makes you wanna punch it sometimes. And then kiss her right after to make it all better. It's an inexplicable feeling, really. 

And right next to it, there's one of Supergirl. Hands on her waist. Looking all mighty and powerful and strong. Looking like a freaking goddess, and yet. The feeling is the same. The same need of kissing her face with an uppercut, and then, well, a real kiss.

It's really embarrassing how obvious it is. And you know how shocked you're supposed to be right now, but you're not. Not even the slightest.

Kara Danvers is Supergirl. 

The loud alarm and countdown in a foreign language disappear in the background and even though you’re sure it’s still there, you can’t hear a thing. Your head spins out of control because you knew that. Knew there was a secret, knew there was more to Kara than stupid cardigans and dweeb face. You absolutely knew that.

And then, like clockwork:

"You are exactly like Clark. Disappears, comes back all disheveled…"

"Clark told me his cousin works for CatCo. Her name is Kara Danvers."

Clark Kent is Superman.

Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. 

These certainly weren't the secrets you thought you'd stumble upon while in Kaznia.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x reader #lena x reader #reader insert

[drdemonprince]

If we are true abolitionists, and do not believe that the declarations of the state are somehow innately moral and right, then we have to confront the fact that 18 is not in fact a magic age at which a person suddenly becomes both deserving of freedom and no longer worthy of social protection. 

No age absolves us of our shared responsibility to look after a person’s life and honor their autonomy -- whether they’re 13, or 8, or 54, or 25. Control over one’s body, authority over one’s destiny, the ability to have a say in how one’s community is run and to actually be listened to some of the time, the ability to access  food and shelter and the freedom to choose and follow one’s own religious practices -- these are all things that ought to belong to all people of all ages. And these are things that unjust systems of power (including the state, the education system, or a controlling and isolating family) currently have the ability to take away from people of all ages. 

when we acknowledge this, conversations about how power can be leveraged against the young, and the old, and the disabled, and the otherwise vulnerable all get a lot more complex. conversations about consent, religious freedom, political representation, access to education, body autonomy, and the like all get way more complicated and dynamic too. There are just so many ways that we as a society trample all over others because they are too old or too young or too disabled or too poor and all kinds of ways that we coerce people into behaving the way society wants them to behave, often causing them great psychological suffering, and not only when they are a minor. 

But it’s non considered socially appropriate to even have these conversations, or to even openly acknowledge that 18 is not in fact some objective standard of when conscious competent personhood begins -- even if you bring this up in the context of needing to extend more and greater protections to people of all ages, folks will call you a groomer. It’s annoying to me how many left-leaning people I see, people who oppose the authority of the state in nearly every other conceivable respect, talking about age and freedom using the frameworks the state laid out as if they represent some objective moral and psychological reality. 

getting into the weeds on this topic is really really uncomfortable because people want to believe that children are both sacred and incompetent. they’re made into objects who both have no right to weigh in on how their bodies are treated, and are so precious that they need to be hidden away from the wider world and controlled by their families completely. and neither of those approaches actually make children safe -- that point of view endangers and dehumanizes them -- and it also does when we apply that kind of thinking to anybody else! (say, institutionalized people with intellectual disabilities, or persons with mental illness forced under a conservatorship). 

IDK man I used to find conversations about the abolition of the family and the need to rethink the use of children as political tools to be very unsettling and creepy. it’s a conversation that upends everything we were raised to believe will keep us safe. and i think nearly all of us have been preyed upon as kids, were exposed to violence and adult sexuality and inappropriate adult emotional needs far too young. 

and if you have that kind of traumatic upbringing in your history, a person questioning society’s entire framework and theory for keeping children ‘safe’ can feel absolutely terrifying. it destabilizes everything. 

but i’ve been thinking about it and knocking my skull against these ideas for years and at some point i could not help but face how much merit these ideas have. the oppression of children is of a piece with the oppression of disabled people, women, Black people, undocumented people, everybody that the state has previously held (or currently still holds) to not be a full person and to only deserve a coercive, controlling kind of protection. that point of view has never helped any marginalized group and it doesn’t help minors either and instead of questioning it we see people arguing for the age of majority to keep getting pushed back later, claiming that no one should be able to determine the course of their future life (or start hormones, or make big financial decisions) until they’re 25 years old or later. 

[kradogsrats]

Aaravos and the Purpose of Dark Magic (It’s Control)

Okay, buckle in because, like Viren, I’m back on my dark magic bullshit. We’re gonna do some thinky-thoughts about what the nature and effects of dark magic are, and why it was specifically created to be that way.

So first to clear up a few assumptions: most of what we’ve been told so far about the history of Dark magic--and what the principal characters believe to be true--is partial or incorrect.

Specifically:

Humans were solely responsible for creating dark magic: False. We’ve suspected for a long time and it now seems pretty clear that Aaravos had at least some hand in creating dark magic.

Before dark magic, humans were miserable outcasts struggling for survival: False. At the time of dark magic’s inception, humans were doing quite well for themselves. Elarion had been a thriving city for hundreds of years.

Humans had no other magic than dark magic: False. There were human primal mages.

So here’s the truth, or some shape of it based on what we have so far seen: before dark magic, even before the dragon monarchy, Elarion had become a thriving city. Humans were on the rise--they had access to magic, though the path to being a primal mage was long and arduous.

Eight hundred years after the founding of Elarion, the dragon monarchy was put in place--and given the subsequent pattern of escalation, I would not be surprised if Aaravos had his fingers in that. Then 200 years after that, Aaravos was involved in the creation of dark magic, whether he created it entirely himself or influenced its creation. Everyone then freaked out, humans were driven from Xadia, Elarion was (maybe) destroyed, etc. etc.

We still don’t know what Aaravos’s goal in all his manipulations is, but it seems to heavily involve humanity and Xadia being pitted against each other. He spends the 700 years after the expulsion of humanity apparently playing both sides, presumably in escalating conflict. It’s almost certain that he was responsible for both Luna Tenebris’s death and Queen Aditi’s fate, either to create chaos in Xadia that humanity could take advantage of, or possibly even introducing a third front in the conflict if dragons and elves could be turned against each other. 

So simply by introducing dark magic when he did, Aaravos was definitely escalating the frictions between humanity and elves. He surely knew that the mechanics of it would be repulsive to the other peoples of Xadia. He probably knew that the staff would further escalate the conflict when it came to a head. And ultimately, even if everything after the creation of dark magic was by chance, Aaravos could not have gotten a better result if he planned it: the world is split into two explicitly enemy factions that he can play against each other at his leisure, and as a bonus, humans have been destabilized in a way that makes them reliant on dark magic to survive for the next few hundred years.

That second part is important, because we also know that dark magic is a means of control. It opens you to Aaravos’s influence--up to and including total erasure of your free will.

Therefore, Aaravos grows more powerful the more dark magic propagates. Zubeia says he targeted mages as being susceptible to manipulation, but I think, in the case of dark mages, it was more than that. He deliberately made dark magic to be this way, and we can see it in how dark magic affects people.

To start with, we’ve been told that dark magic attracts a certain personality profile--this actually could be said to be one of the earliest things established about the setting, given the concept pilot and the way proto-Claudia leans in to the magic while proto-Soren shrinks away from it. This is mostly a similar profile to the way Zubeia describes mages Aaravos’s targets: insatiable thirst and fascination with magic, etc. However, with the introduction of dark magic, you get an additional facet--a person pursuing dark magic instead of primal magic is one who wants something badly enough to take shortcuts and make tradeoffs, and to continue to do so as long as what they want is held in front of them. Whether that is a desire driven by greed, fear, pride, or whatever doesn’t matter, the desire itself is a shared attribute that Aaravos can easily exploit.

We are also told that dark magic then amplifies the emotional traits of its users. So whatever fears or desires, whatever insatiable thirst initially lead someone to dark magic are only going to intensify--Viren’s pride and persecution complex, Claudia’s fear of loss and desire to prove herself, etc. These are features, not bugs. The vector for manipulation already exists, and the dark magic persistently reinforces it.

Viren’s spiral through the first arc is a good illustration of this: he gets progressively more and more... like that, because his grief and anger and paranoia are in a full feedback loop. But in addition to his emotions and desires being amplified, he’s drawn more and more into Aaravos’s influence. Even given that Viren must already have been compromised on some level to even consider doing something as dumbass as an unknown blood ritual offered by someone he knows nothing about and can’t speak to, that Viren of season one would be asking a lot of questions that the Viren of season three does not. 

In my opinion, this is not because Aaravos has actually done very much in the way of earning his trust. It’s because his influence has wormed (ha) its way deep enough that he can just say shit like this: 

That is not the face and words of someone who thinks he needs to be subtle. He knows that at this point, he could literally punch Viren in the dick and Viren would be like “yeah, great idea, thanks.” I won’t say that Viren would be making good decisions without Aaravos nudging him, but I don’t think he’d be making the same decisions--by fairly early in season three, it’s clearly Aaravos’s plan that’s being implemented and Viren is just along for the ride as a figurehead and eventual fall guy (ha).

We even have a visual marker for the progression of Aaravos’s influence over Viren--Viren’s corruption. Now, my belief is still that the visible physical effects of dark magic corruption are basically magic overdose to the point of tissue damage. Corruption explicitly builds up and gets more severe with continued dark magic use, producing effects like being able to sense magic and cast small spells without primal reagents. But we are told explicitly that Viren is corrupted “inside and out,” so there is also an internal, mental/spiritual effect of consistent, repeated dark magic.

This internal corruption isn’t “evil”--this isn’t a setting where “good” and “evil” are absolute, tangible forces, for one--it’s Aaravos’s influence. Sympathy, trust, receptiveness... it’s all laid in with the dark magic corruption. One very subtle but also quite explicit place we see this is when Claudia and Soren argue in season 4--Claudia describes the belief that humans have always been and will always be persecuted by elves (and that Aaravos is a savior) in terms of generational trauma, and as something she knows to be the truth on a physical, bone-deep level. And Soren doesn’t get it:

The dark magic corruption that Claudia carries is enough to make her instinctively believe Aaravos’s version of the narrative so deeply she’s not capable of questioning it. Soren, unaffected, is able to step back and say, “that sounds fake, but okay.”

So the use of dark magic is emotionally cyclical, and the corruption builds with its use, and Aaravos’s potential hold over every dark mage only increases. This is all by design, laid out by the one who designed it. It’s serving its purpose.

But back to the possession for a moment: “Callum only used dark magic the one time and that still left him vulnerable to full possession by Aaravos!” I hear you cry, “Why doesn’t Aaravos ever possess Viren the same way?”

Well, he almost definitely does, he just goes to some effort to keep Viren from realizing it. We have two occasions where Viren exhibits the same eye-glow effect as Callum does while possessed: 

One is here, where Aaravos has Viren very blatantly resist arrest, basically eliminating any chance he has of talking his way out of Opeli’s treason charges. Viren explicitly thinks he’s still in control here, that Aaravos is just offering up his power and knowledge to him. He argues with Aaravos that he can continue to fight, and even win the battle--but that doesn’t suit Aaravos’s purposes as well. Viren alone and on the run is a lot less useful than Viren positioned within range of the throne, even if he’s imprisoned. 

And the other time is at the top of the Storm Spire, where Viren is in so deep that he still thinks all of this is somehow for his benefit: 

There’s actually a close-up shot of Viren’s eyes going from dark magic purple glow to Aaravos blue/iridescent. They very specifically and deliberately showcase the moment it happens. But Viren still believes he’s the one steering.

So why does Aaravos handle Viren differently from Callum? Well, to put it simply, you don’t need to kick someone’s legs out from under them if they’ll kneel when you ask. Furthermore, one of Viren’s strongest personality traits is that his pride makes him crave control--so removing a level of control as basic as his own bodily autonomy would be an incredibly hostile act in what is ostensibly a friendly relationship. Aaravos maintains the illusion that Viren is the one in control all the way to the end, because forcibly puppeting Viren the way he does Callum is probably one of the only things that could actually turn Viren against him.

Callum, on the other hand, is already hostile. Aaravos knows that he can’t manipulate Callum the same way he did Viren--Callum’s personality and desires are too divergent. The only way he’ll bring Callum to do his bidding voluntarily is through fear, anger, or despair. (CHET fans insert your own meta here.) Forcibly possessing Callum then actually serves that goal, in that it’s a demonstration that a) he has total power over Callum and can do whatever he wants (fear), b) there’s nothing Callum can do to stop it (despair), and c) he’s a massive asshole to everyone Callum loves (anger). It’s a little appetizer, so that when it’s time for the main course, Callum will know what the stakes are.

And where does Viren fall in this at the end of season 4? Well, in this recent interview, Aaron Ehasz describes Viren as having been “forced to make the decision to use dark magic.” This is an interesting phrasing, because it specifically suggests both agency and lack thereof. 

Viren spends most of season 4 making the choice not to use dark magic--I’m not going to dig into why, at this time, but between the start and end of the season’s arc he refuses to either use dark magic or even touch either of the staffs. This is most dramatic when Claudia tries to defer to him for the chrysalis-opening spell since he is (in her mind) the more powerful and experienced mage, but he also explicitly refuses the staff when Claudia brings it back from the Storm Spire, and from that point on it is generally Terry lugging it (and frequently the Sunforge Staff, as well) around.

And then this happens:

I need to think about this line for another hundred years or so, because it’s just... so much. So, so much. But a couple immediately notable things:

This the last clear, full line Viren speaks in the season. His only other voice line after this is his “You!” when recognizing Rayla.

The length of the shot in which he reaches to pick up the staff, combined with the music cue, is really over-the-top dramatic. Some of that is due to the drama from the other side, with Rayla suddenly encountering her two-year fixation, but it’s not a coincidence.

And from there, he’s casually melting their way out of the mountainside. He’s back to full-drama magic use--Claudia could certainly have gotten them out of the mountain, if she had to, but now he’s the one taking the lead on magic, again. He’s apparently all-in on freeing Aaravos, given his satisfaction with Claudia’s summary of next steps. And, of course, he’s got his corruption face back on, after us having not seen it all season. In short, while he doesn’t have the posession eyes, he’s still firmly back on his Aaravos’s bullshit.

This also brings in a factor that I haven’t talked about yet--the staff. 

The Staff of Ziard, the Relic Staff, whatever you want to call it. (Personally, I’m going to stick with Relic Staff, just because I think focusing on Ziard muddies things too much.)

The Relic Staff, we can pretty much assume at this point, was crafted by Aaravos to be given to Ziard, the first dark mage. And in the same way that Aaravos set up dark magic to his own advantage, he definitely has shit going on with the staff. It has seemingly unique properties related to dark magic, in terms of spells it’s able to act as a power source for--most notably the spirit entrapment (coin) spell, and the massive magic drain spell cast by both Ziard and later Viren. It’s specifically required to open the chrysalis. (According to Aaravos, that is--it could very well be that it will be necessary for something else that he doesn’t want to reveal, and isn’t related to the chrysalis at all.)

At the very least, it makes sense for the staff to enhance Aaravos’s influence over its bearer--it’s a powerful relic, passed down from the first dark mage (even if, as I suspect, history no longer remembers that). People are going to fight over it. It’s going to naturally wind up in the hands of the most powerful person around... who is then firmly in Aaravos’s thrall.

One interesting thread here is, if we work with the assumption that Aaravos is on some level directing both Claudia and Viren’s impulses toward his own ends, is that Claudia spends the whole season trying to give the staff back to Viren. Even after he won’t take it, she prefers using the corrupted Sunforge Staff. Granted, she’s been using that one for two years now and so probably likes it quite a bit, but given the Relic Staff’s nature and properties, I would have expected it to also have the effect that once you’ve got it, you’re extremely reluctant to let it go. In the end, Claudia doesn’t even stop at just pushing the staff back on Viren, she straight-up leaves it behind on the floor.

And Viren--to go back to the interview quote--both makes the choice to pick it back up, and is forced into all that entails. He’s also explicitly not picking it up for Claudia, but for himself. It’s a choice he makes with as much agency as any he has ever made.. but it’s definitely a choice Aaravos wanted him to make.

There was a lot of speculation before season 4 came out that Aaravos would be discarding Viren in favor of Claudia, but at this point I think the opposite is true--Aaravos wants Viren’s hands on that staff, so Claudia isn’t as compelled by it. Claudia is, as Aaravos noted, a valuable asset, but she’s still just a secondary piece being moved around in order to get his real goals back on track. Viren is still central, and there’s some reason for that we have yet to see.

Anyway, both the Relic Staff and dark magic itself were built from the ground up by Aaravos specifically to allow him to easily influence/control humanity and have that control both propagate and filter to the people who would be most useful to him as pawns. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk about how humans are fucked.

#i didn't even get to the part where aaravos is able to corrupt actual sources of primal magic so #the dragon prince #dark magic #viren #aaravos #tdp spoilers #the dragon prince spoilers #did i edit this? at all? ha ha FUCK no

[princessasmosprincess]

Charmed, I'm Sure

Chapter 30

Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you. Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC Genre: Drama, angst, a bit of fluff. Warnings: None in this chapter. *** Author's note: Sorry for the delay in this chapter, I did that thing where I let a chapter sit for too long and I started to hate it. Writing this was a lot of trusting the process and I was failing that at first... ***

“Pardon me.”

You turned, still pulling against Lucifer, as someone put their hand on your shoulder.

It was Solomon.

“Well, looks like a new song has started. I'd love the chance to dance with MC. Might I cut in?” He asked, looking not at you, but directly at Lucifer.

Lucifer’s ruby gaze narrowed at the sorcerer. “Fine.” And then he turned it back to you, that haughty smirk on his lips, “I get the feeling that you've gotten the message and you understand what I'm telling you MC. I'm glad we got to have this little talk.” He handed you off to Solomon and stalked off into the crowd of demons.

Solomon took your hand gently in his and began leading you in the dance. You flexed the fingers of your injured hand, feeling the circulation returning.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue there.” You said.

“No need to thank me. Think nothing of it.” Solomon gave a reassuring smile, “This is the Devildom. When it comes down to it, you're human, and that makes you different. Never forget that. You may have made pacts with demons, but you still lack the power to command them.”

Solomon’s dancing was less refined than Lucifer's, it was also simpler. But he was easy to follow as he led you through the steps, and this was the perfect tempo to hold a conversation.

“How do you command a demon you've made a pact with?” You asked.

“Good question…” Something flashed in Solomon’s eyes, like he was pleased you asked. “Everyone has some amount of magical power by nature. However, there are some people in which it actually manifests itself, and some people in which it doesn't. And even among those in which it does, some have more of it than others. It varies based on the individual.”

He led you in a quick but gentle turn, nothing too showy, before he settled his arms around you once again. “Seeing how it doesn't even manifest itself in you to begin with, even though you've made pacts with demons, you can't take command of their powers.”

You gave a frustrated sigh. The pacts were practically useless if you couldn't wield them at will, beyond those little commands you'd managed once or twice. Protection was one thing, but your true task was still looming in the background (or really, in the attic of the House of Lamentation).

“Would you like me to lend you my power?��� Solomon asked suddenly.

His offer gave you pause. Was something like that possible?

“You can do that?” You searched his face for any sign of teasing, “Why would you?”

“Let's just say I'm curious to know what would happen if I did.” He said, “You're a destabilizing element here in this world. I can't say what might happen if I do this, which is exactly what makes it interesting.”

You thought for a moment. You so wanted to know what it felt like to use magic. And maybe, if you wielded his magic well, Solomon would lend it to you again, for when you truly needed it.

“Ok,” you said finally, “Lend me your power, Solomon.”

Solomon nodded. He switched to an open dance position, taking both of your hands and entwining your fingers with his. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours in a similar way to how you’d forged your pacts with the demons, reciting an incantation you couldn't quite hear over the music.

Your hands began to glow with silver light, and warmth snaked up your arms into your chest. Electricity pulsed in your veins and your body felt strange. Stronger, but not with physical strength, there was this sense of energy that felt so different to anything you’d ever experienced before. When the incantation was complete, Solomon took a step back, his hands still clasped around yours.

“There. I've put a spell on you.” He pulled you close to him once more, continuing the dance, “As of this moment, you have use of my powers for the next six hours.” He looked you over, gauging your reaction, “You should experience what it's like to control a demon and use his powers.”

Solomon led your dancing to the edge of the dance floor.

“I’m still not sure why you offered this.” You said, breathing around that bubbly, light feeling in your chest from the borrowed magic.

“We are on a retreat after all. Why waste this opportunity?” He smirked, “So, go. Show me what you can do. I'm counting on you to deliver.”

Without warning, Solomon spun you out directly into another’s arms as the ending of the song melted into the beginning of the next.

***

Asmo’s hand found your waist automatically, even he was surprised when he took your hand in his and swept you back onto the dance floor.

You stumbled for a few steps as you fell into the changing rhythm. And once you found your footing, you looked into the face of your new partner.

Asmo looked away as soon as your eyes met his. He kept his gaze trained over your shoulder, sighing, disinterested. As if he would rather be anywhere else.

The awkwardness was unbearable, and after more than a minute of silence, other than the lilting instrumental music and the light buzz of the party crowd. You knew you needed to say something. The very something that had been bothering you all day.

You took a breath, building up the courage to break the silence. And then you spoke, “Asmo, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have said what I said the way I did.”

He finally looked back at you, eyebrows raised.

“I was frustrated with you and overtired,” You admitted, “But that’s no excuse for… threatening to control you.” Your cheeks burned in shame.

Asmo blinked.

“I really do want to make a pact with you, but not like that.”

Asmo couldn't remember the last time he’d been apologized to that hadn't been part of bedroom role play or the half-hearted apologies Mammon stammered out, at Lucifer’s persuasion, after being caught stealing Asmo’s things.

This was sincere.

“I see.” He said, but Asmo wanted to know more. “And why is it that you want a pact with me so badly, darling? I know I’m the most irresistible demon in all of the Devildom, but surely there’s more to it than that.”

You nodded, “There is.”

And for some reason Asmo was relieved to hear you say that.

“I want to make a pact with you because…” You dropped your gaze to his collar, searching for the right words, “There’s something I need to do and I need your power to do it.” Your brow furrowed, you looked almost desperate.

Need. The word rang inside his head. Needing was different than wanting. Most people wanted him, but you…

“Is that why you made pacts with my brothers?” He asked.

You looked away.

Asmo pressed further, taking your silence for an answer, “And do they know what it is you want to do?”

You remained silent.

Asmo sighed, “Very well, you don’t have to tell me right now.” He was content to leave it be until he decided to make a pact with you.

If he decided to make a pact with you, he emphasized to himself.

Over the music he caught Mammon’s complaining voice, something about it not being fair. That he was your first and he still hadn’t gotten to dance with you. Asmo pulled you in closer.

His fingertips brushed your skin through the cutout at the small of your back.

Asmo found it interesting that Lisette had left the cutouts in the outfit she’d given you, especially since it was something so easily changed with her tailoring magic.

The cutouts were meant to accommodate beings with wings. Otherwise it could be altered to fit beings with tails, and there was even a version for beings with neither. It was very important to Asmo that anyone, regardless of their size or number of appendages, could wear his designs. One of his core philosophies was that everyone deserved to be fabulous.

He’d left Lisette with his preferred method of alteration in the original sketch. Of course, being the owner of Majolish and the one sponsoring his design, she could make the changes she saw fit. But Lisette had always respected Asmo’s design choices, and the rare times she had made a change, she’d informed him of it right away. They’d, admittedly, been mostly small accessories thus far, but Asmo didn’t think Lisette would change her policy when it came to full ensembles. She'd approved his design so readily.

“Where did you get this outfit, dear?” Asmo asked you, breaking the tension that was still heavy in the air around you both.

You smiled, happy with the change of subject. “Lisette lent it to me the last time I went to Majolish.”

Had she given you the prototype? The one he had paid Levi in signed Sucre Frenzy photo cards to sew for him, sworn to secrecy by penalty of death or revealing his waifu list to all of RAD if he told anyone about it, all while Asmo hand embroidered the sleeves so everything would be perfect? The one Asmo had worn during the photo shoot? That one would have been stored in Lisette’s vault until it would be returned to him once the collection debuted. It was precious.

“Really? I don’t believe I’ve seen that design before,” He dipped you, his face inches from yours, his eyes sparkling with his little secret, his bat wings flitting behind him.

“It’s from a new collection that’s supposed to come out next month,” You said, unfazed by the closeness. But then your eyes widened. “I didn’t even think to ask her if it was ok to wear before the debut. I hope it’s alright.”

Asmo righted you and continued dancing.

“You could always ask her now,” He inclined his head to the banquet tables across the room.

Her late husband being a former student council member and demon nobility, Lisette attended most RAD events by invitation directly from the crown. She was there at the dance, looking absolutely stunning in a form fitting gown of deep amethyst as she conversed amiably with Lord Diavolo.

“But I think you’re fine, hon. She wouldn’t have given it to you if she didn’t want you to wear it.”

Asmo released your waist with a gentle push, spinning you out before pulling you back as the music flourished, the fabric of your outfit billowing exquisitely around your figure. Your delicious, human scent wafted toward him as you returned to his arms, totally breathless. He barely registered your cute laugh as he caught something else in the air. It was very faint, something only he could detect due to his proximity to you.

Cupiditas. The very perfume he’d worn the day of the photo shoot.

And Asmo knew there was no way you could coincidentally have a bottle of Cupiditas in your possession. It was a scent only found in the Devildom, discontinued a thousand years ago because it drove some lower level demons wild beyond control. Asmo only had it because he’d charmed the perfumer into giving him one of the last bottles in existence.

He only ever used it on special occasions. Like when he modeled something of his own design for Devil Style magazine.

You were definitely wearing the prototype, the warmth of your body heating the last bit of perfume remaining on the clothing. Lisette had magically tailored it to your size, but there was no mistaking that it was his. How had he not noticed it until now?

Here you were, in his arms, wearing his clothes. Not just clothes he’d designed but clothes he’d worn on his own body. This all felt strangely intimate.

“Well, it looks ravishing on you, dear.” He found himself saying. It was the truth.

You ducked your head shyly. “Thanks, I really like it too. I’ll be sad when I have to return it.”

“Live in the moment, darling. You’ll regret it if you don't take the time to enjoy it while you can.”

“You’re right.” You agreed.

The music swelled in a crescendo. You gave a coy smile and took the chance to twirl him this time.

Asmo felt his heart flutter at your boldness and a giggle escaped his lips as he turned in time with the music.

Just as he was about to return to your grasp, his eyes caught Solomon through the flurry of dancers, watching the two of you intently.

Asmo’s heart clamped firmly shut. Now was not the time to get sentimental.

He met your gaze warily as he slipped his arms around your waist once again.

“You know, Asmo,” You said, “Your eyes really do look like the sunset.”

That was it.

He’d had enough of dancing for the night.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

#charmed i'm sure #obey me #obey me shall we date #asmo #asmodeus #asmo obey me #asmodeus obey me #solomon obey me #asmo x reader #asmo x mc #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x mc #asmo x gn reader #asmo x gn mc #asmodeus x gn reader #asmodeus x gn mc

[celluloidbroomcloset]

What is your take on the show using stabbing as an allegory for sex? But only some of the time, between only Ed and Stede.

Stede stabbing Ed. Sexual.

Frenchie and crew talk about wanting to be stabbed by him, and it reads as sexual.

Izzy stabbing Stede, not sexual?

Stede dreams of stabbing Izzy?

I think different stabbings take different valences, so there's not a one-to-one allegory going on.

Stabbing throughout is used to highlight characterizations and especially to discuss violence, dominance, and penetration.

"The stabbing scene" between Stede and Ed is quite obviously sexual and intended to be read as such, but it's not sexual to Stede. He sees this as him hurting Ed, and part of what's being highlighted is the fact that he doesn't see causing pain as sexual in nature. Ed does see it as sexual, and we know that's in part because he associates sex with violence. He isn't able to actually ask for what he wants—to be held and penetrated by Stede—so he creates a violent game where Stede essentially has to hold him. It's funny because Izzy overhears it and reads it as sexual, but it's also very indicative of Ed and his desires and how he navigates those.

Frenchie and the crew's desire to be stabbed by Jim is similar - sex and penetration is about violence in the pirate world - and it's highlighted by the fact that, as we know, Jim is not a man. I'd have to think about it more to decide how to read all of that, but it's definitely the crew fantasizing about being penetrated.

Izzy stabbing Stede is sexual in the sense that Izzy also associates penetration with domination and power, and he has to fix the dynamic that has been destabilized when he overhears Stede stabbing Ed. It's not at all "Izzy wants to fuck Stede," but Izzy wants to force Stede back into his acceptable position in the hierarchy, where he's dominated by a superior male. Stede again upends this because he doesn't know the game being played and he won't play it correctly. He's stabbed and wins—he forces Izzy off the ship. He's penetrated and he still won't fall into line.

I think Stede's dream of stabbing Izzy does fall into the power fantasy a bit more, but it's not sexualized; it's him removing what he knows is one of the barriers between him and Ed. He's acting out a fantasy where he's this big masculine hero who kills the bad guy and saves the princess, but he never follows through on it in real life (no, not even in the Ned Low bit). His reaction to seeing Izzy again is to tell him to fuck off. He also almost immediately starts crying when his dream self sees Ed again, so it ceases to be that power fantasy and becomes more the reality of who Stede is - the guy who burst into tears and run across a beach to be reunited with his own true love.

So, yeah. I don't think stabbing can be read as a one-to-one allegory throughout the show, and how it's treated within the text is important beyond just the act of stabbing (remember that Stede gets stabbed by the Spanish as well, and that's not sexualized). It is definitely about power and penetration, and it's particularly important that Stede is the one who never sees a correlation between penetration and dominance.

#reply #ofmd #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #izzy hands #edward teach

[lu-sn]

Pete adjusting to his new life post-canon

tortoise this isn't a prompt this is a freaking dissertation topic 😂 okay okay i can pick one thing and stick to it. i swear

i think post-canon pete is suddenly in a position where he doesn't have any friends.

hear me out. i don't mean that his friendships have completely eroded. he sure did burn some bridges, what with shooting that one main family guy to death, and i bet there are plenty of main family guards who used to be friendly with him and now would pay money to light him on fire. but his core relationships — with arm, or porsche, or even khun — are still there. they're just precariously off-kilter now.

pete is no longer who he was before. he wasn't outright lying, necessarily, but he was... hiding. his friends were only seeing one facet of him, and they've come to understand in a pretty brutal way how much of pete they weren't seeing. no matter what, this is going to affect their closeness with pete. it's going to destabilize the trust they have in him. i would put khun at the far end of the spectrum, aka the most destabilized thanks to pete's defection, and porsche perhaps the least, but it still leaves pete on uncertain terms with everyone who liked him in the before times.

and, like, vegas might love pete, but vegas isn't actually friends with pete yet. they've spent... two weeks of quality time together? most of which was straight up torture? sure, they Know each other, but they're probably going to need to work up to being casual around each other. macau and pete also don't know each other well, and it doesn't help that macau is a kid. that friendship isn't going to be equally balanced for a long time.

so pete's at a bit of a crossroads here. he can choose to let those old friendships go — to let the confusion and suspicion grow thick and gnarled between himself and the others — or he can try to actually fix them. and if he wants to do that, he's probably going to have to start being honest. he's going to have to be vulnerable. he needs to rebuild his friendships from a place of authenticity.

I THINK HE WILL BE REALLY BAD AT THIS. not just because pete would literally die instead of be emotionally vulnerable, but because a lot of the authenticity that porsche and arm and pol and khun are going to ask for right off the bat is going to pertain to pete's relationship with vegas. god knows pete has no idea how to talk about that, let alone the desire to discuss it. plus, vegas hates all of these people. should pete really be telling them anything about vegas? can he be honest with people who vegas probably sees as enemies?

it's going to be a long process. and some of it is going to depend on vegas's relationship with these people mellowing out. i have a feeling pete will be able to reach a place of personal honesty with arm fairly quickly, if he gets to see arm at any sort of regular frequency. porsche is harder because of the whole minor family ring thing, but i think porsche might be the only person who kind of understands why pete would have run away for vegas, and i just think pete needs that understanding from someone else real bad. that connection is going to keep them afloat until they can rekindle their friendship in calmer waters.

but. but pete and khun. oof. that one's hard. does khun have the capacity to see pete as his equal? is pete forever going to keep his former employer at arm's length? i don't think this will ever become a true friendship. perhaps they can reach a point of surface-level congeniality.

in the meantime, pete will hopefully make new friends! macau and pete friendship FOR LIFE. i like to think vegas only has a couple of loyal-to-the-death guards left, and i think it would be kind of cool if pete became friends with them. and maybe pete picks up some insane new hobby to fill up all of his unemployed free time and gets to make casual friends outside of the mafia, friends that are his only, that aren't also tied to vegas or pitted against vegas somehow.

but pete is going to have to work for these. no more empty smiles. fewer white lies. less deflecting. learning to offer up parts of himself to those around him — to weave them into bonds that are made stronger by the truths woven into them.

#ofc pete could have zero friends outside of vegas and macau and be super unhealthy #sometimes the appeal of vegaspete is the lack of healthy yaknow #they can be obsessed w each other to a fault that's a-ok #but i like to think about pete achieving some amount of normalcy over time and real friends would be huge for that #thank u for the ask tortoise 😊 hope u enjoy the rambles #kinnporsche #pete saengtham #vegaspete #mine: asks #rainy day asks

[cerastes]

Who are the top must build caster operators? Excluding Eyja and Amiya

The ones you like :) But of course, you knew that, so let's talk Casters.

Casters exist in a perpetual state of weirdness because Hypergryph did an oopsie daisy and created Eyja as a release Operator, forever destabilizing absolutely everything about the class for years because she Did Everything better than other Casters (except Ifrit), even other Caster archetypes that aren't her own. Basically, on release, an objective tier listing for Casters, not just Core Casters, could be "Eyja Tier and Everyone Else Tier" and it'd be correct. Whether it was single target, aoe, constant DPS or burst damage, Eyja Did It Better. About the only other Caster you'd hear about in the conversation was Ifrit, because she was her own weird thing and did her job really damn well, and her unique range and true AoE, plus her ability to land flat DEF and RES debuffs (as opposed to percentage based, which made them very powerful due to the way DEF works and how the numbers tend to be low, thus flat > percentage for DEF) has always been appreciated. In fact, add Ifrit to that list of Recommended Casters, even though we won't discuss her below.

After some years of fighting their own big oopsie, Arknights is finally starting to even out the playing field with Casters. Right now, I'd say the best Caster is in fact Goldenglow (6*), and just, in general, the Mech Accord archetype is solid, with Operators like Kjera (5*) and Click (4*) being, quite honestly, very good! Minimalist (5*) is also an effective fire-and-forget unit, and in general, for your single target needs, Mech Accord is the way to go. The other archetype that's been cooking is the Mystic Caster group, with the likes of Ebenholz (6*), Iris (5*) and Indigo (4*), thanks to their great burst potential. Consider them as the Caster equivalent of Heavyshooter Snipers (Schwarz, Pozemka) in that they need to be more carefully and thoughtfully placed and require a more hands-on approach, paying dividends with incredibly effective Elite and Boss killing power, especially when they don't attack for a few seconds, as for each "autoattack" they have no target in range, they instead save that attack for later, unleashing all attacks (max 3) at once.

So, with that said, I don't particularly like the term "must raise", so let's call this a Hearty Recommended List of Casters:

Goldenglow - Whether it is her S2 for constant output (and AFK strats wink wink) or S3 for a more hands-on approach to evisceration with its great damage per second and global range, Miss Electric WILL send your foes to the principal's office and have them expelled. Her single target damage is incredible and she is absurdly easy to use, plus, thanks to her Talent, sometimes her drones will explode to deal AoE damage, granting her a degree of AoE ability as well. There's not much to say other than Goldenglow is really as powerful as you've heard: Incredibly easy to use, incredibly versatile, and incredibly pink.

Ebenholz - The other big relevant Caster nowadays. Ebenholz tends to have a bit of a worse reputation than Goldenglow, mostly due to incompetence (of the playerbase, not Eben's). The truth is, the absolutely monstrous amounts of damage Ebenholz can put out if played correctly are astonishing, but there's two issues here: 1) He's considerably harder to use than the average unit, as you need to make sure he's placed in a way that allows him to actually shoot all of this damage at the right target, which usually translates to "your entire team set-up, or at least a significant part of it, is built around using Ebenholz properly", and 2) you rarely actually need the amount of damage he outputs, especially relative to the effort needed to squeeze it out of him (when you can just use an easier unit, like Eyja or GG). However, for those moments in which you can definitely benefit from the Big Hits or, let's be honest here, when you just really want to see those big damn numbers, yeah, Ebenholz is a bona fide top pick. For BIG Damage, you'll want to learn to build around his S3, for general use, you want his S2, which is quite similar to W's S2 Claymores.

Kjera - Kjera's freezing ability allows her to output damage and provide team utility -- Freezing is not only a measure of crowd control, it reduces RES by 15 as well -- making her an easy to integrate Operator into pretty much any team, especially if you also use the likes of Gnosis or Aurora for that sweet, sweet Frozen synergy. Even without them, however, Kjera is a solid member of any team and a great team player.

Click - An ol' reliable, cheap, effective damage hose with minor crowd control in the form of Stun, Click is simple to use, cheap to upgrade, and has great hands to high five with after she's done blasting. Not much else to be said about her, she simply works.

Iris - Nice bursty Caster with some fun gimmicks: S1 is her machine gun, making her range a line in front of line and releasing a LOT of very quick attacks very briefly, while her S2 Sleeps enemies for a few seconds (allowing her to charge up Mystic stacks) before waking them up with a burst of Arts damage. Being one of the rare Sleep synergies, it also allows Blemishine to smash enemies over the head with a tire iron, the way knights do, if you use them together. Quite the gimmicky unit, but fun and effective nonetheless.

Indigo - The light machine gun to Iris' heavy machine gun and Ebenholz attack jet-mounted vulcan gun. Her damage is not as high as her fellow Mystics, but she instead has a rather consistent Bind she can apply to her enemies, which is interesting to have on a Caster. A sub-DPS/Support hybrid, and welcome in pretty much any team.

There's other Casters that can get a recommendation, but these are the ones I think are pretty relevant as of right now besides Eyja, Amiya, and Ifrit.

#arknights

[recurringwriter]

Rufus Without "Cornelia's" Influence

Have you been thinking about that art book reveal about the Agarthan mind-control tiara? Are you considering writing an au where there is no such influence, but aren't sure how to characterize Rufus? This look at the Regent's appearance in both games might interest you.

The minor and even off-screen characters of the series can be some of the most fascinating to explore from a writer's perspective, and Dimitri's uncle Rufus is one such individual. In the first game, he was merely mentioned--providing much room for personal interpretation and invention. In the spin-off, he was one of a few characters to be granted a face, though he only appeared briefly as an early-game boss who was revealed to have been a source of much suffering for his nephew. Upon analysis, though, it can be seen that the 'real' Rufus is not the character we see in Hopes. For the entire duration of the story, he is under the influence of an Agarthan device that was given to him by Cornelia. At some point before Patricia's marriage to Lambert, the Court Mage was replaced by the Agarthan, Cleobulus, who then had ample time to manipulate him through a combination of guilt and his feelings of inferiority of being shunned by his parents due to his lack of a Crest. Finally, even under such powerful control, Rufus' guilt is obvious. All this together shows that while his actions in Hopes were harmful and inexcusable, he too suffers as a victim of Cleobulus.

In the Hopes art book, it was revealed that Rufus had been given the tiara seen in his sprite and in-game model by the Agarthan replacement of Cornelia, referred to hereafter as Cleobulus. The circlet itself is plain and drab, reflecting his simple armour. Rufus' appearance itself in the art book is more saturated than his in-game appearance, implying that the tiara has rendered him lifeless and ghostly with its power. It is shown to be Agarthan in origin, and a tool used by Cleobulus to gain control over Rufus' mind and decision-making. While we cannot know how much of an effect it has on its victim, it is obvious that his actions and words are impacted to some extent by the dark magic of the circlet. In fiction, a character's behaviour and dialogue often reveal clues about their nature, however, knowing that Rufus is being influenced by Agarthan magic shows us a personality that is different from his actual self. His true disposition is completely obscured from the audience, and therefore still open for interpretation and invention.

Cleobulus clearly began working to destabilize Faerghus immediately after replacing the real Cornelia. Taking advantage of Anselma's connections to his stolen identity, Cleobulus helped her seek refuge in Faerghus and introduced her to the king. Countless interpretations exist of the timeline and relationship between Lambert and Anselma or 'Patricia', as the writing is inconsistent about details and one of the weaker parts of the narrative. It will not be examined in depth in this analysis. However, we can assume that Cleobulus was at work before the marriage to Anselma. This means that he had time to gain control over Rufus, both using the tiara to weaken his mind along with manipulation tactics. In chapter 3 of Hopes, Cleobulus says,

"You are meant to rule Faerghus—and you have the power to make it so. Your royal army is the finest in the realm. And if I may be so bold, you also have me. Put your worries to rest, my king. Sleep deeply, and without fear."

At this point in the story, Rufus is still only acting as Regent until Dimitri comes of age, yet Cleobulus is the one to outright refer to him as King of Faerghus. Clearly, Cleobulus is playing on insecurities of Rufus' about being the eldest son, who was not made heir and permitted to inherit the throne. This suggests a situation similar to Miklan's, which Dimitri references after the events of chapter 5 of Houses. While there is no mention of Rufus' behaviour towards Lambert or Dimitri in Houses, it can be assumed that the way his parents treated him over his lack of a Crest could have resulted in him feeling inferior to his younger brother. Cleobulus would have been able to reach that conclusion easily and exacerbate those feelings. Coupled with the Agarthan tiara, it would be easy for him to manipulate Rufus by repeatedly alluding to his shortcomings and then pretending to be the only source of support. By cutting Rufus off from those who might have convinced him of Lambert's goodness and his own merits, Cleobulus could use Rufus as a tool to destabilize Faerghus.

Despite the influence of both the tiara and Cleobulus' manipulation, Rufus expresses guilt and remorse for the actions he has been led to commit. He claims that "Every night since [he] killed [his] brother, [he] dream[s] a lion is ripping out [his] throat." After having compared Lambert and Dimitri both to lions, the symbolism is obvious. He regrets his actions and fears revenge, but Cleobulus' insistence that he can and must kill Dimitri means that he continues to follow the same path. At his execution, he asks Dimitri whether he is troubled to "slay his own kin". It seems unlikely after what Rufus has done that he would ask that without having been 'troubled' likewise for his part in Lambert's death. He then says "Well. To perish by your hand… It is a fate that I much deserve." Rufus cannot change what he has done, and his mind is still a prisoner of Cleobulus', but he is aware of his own wrongdoing and that by killing Lambert, he has called forth Dimitri's revenge, turning him into the same monster he sees within himself. In addition, if Rufus truly wished to murder Lambert and Dimitri, then Cleobulus would never have needed to involve himself so drastically, both manipulating and using Agarthan magic to subdue him.

Rufus did not wish to be king. In Houses, Sylvain describes him thus, saying, "And there are those rumors of the current regent being too busy chasing the ladies to bother with governing." If Rufus wanted to be a philanderer, he was already in the perfect position for it as the Grand Duke of Itha. Having been older than Lambert and seeing what is required of a ruler, he would have known what responsibilities would have been required of him. It was the influence of Cleobulus and the tiara in Hopes that made him the unwell and jealous individual we see in the spin-off game. In Houses his supposed involvement in the Tragedy was simply a rumour used by Cornelia to justify her narrative framing Dimitri for his uncle's murder. This inconsistent writing means that those wishing to explore a timeline in which Rufus is not under the control of Cleobulus can characterize him however they wish, since the aspects of his personality revealed in Hopes were all affected by the abuse he suffered. While his actions were terrible, he too is a victim in this situation suffering from terrible mental health that was capitalized on and exacerbated by Cleobulus. In Houses, his worst flaw was his incompetence as a Regent, but though he had disagreements with Dimitri, the heir to the Kingdom never spoke ill of him and was upset to learn that Cornelia had been responsible for his murder.

#rufus blaiddyd #rufus thierry blaiddyd #fe3hopes #fe3h

[thebibliosphere]

hello! a friend sent me your post about cirs and mcas the other day and it’s got me doing a lot of research, i’ve been sick since 2019 and was diagnosed w cirs in 2020, i’ve since hit a plateau where i’m not really improving tho and my cirs doctor doesn’t really know what to do with me until i build tolerance to a nasal spray or somehow banish more toxins from my already toxin-free room. i wanted to ask what your experience with cirs doctors was and how you figured out you were misdiagnosed? a lot of stuff around cirs is pretty sketchy but i’ve been at a point where i’ve just overlooked that :/ thank u i hope ur having a good day !!!!!

So, unfortunately, my experience sounds a lot like yours. I (skeptically and out of desperation) followed the advice of several alt-medicine doctors who believed I had CIRS and saw some improvement that ultimately hit a plateau and never really moved beyond it.

This was because some of their recommendations removed triggers from my environment that were causing my mast cells to react (scented candles, perfumes, strong chemical cleansers) as well as some high histamine foods. Gluten, for example, is a mast cell destabilizer and iirc “go gluten free!” is common CIRS advice but they never really explain why beyond some pseudo-science.

And while removing some triggers did help, they weren't doing anything else to meaningfully shore up my immune system or address the fact that mast cell dysfunction can fluctuate rapidly due to things like seasonal allergies, stress and also your own monthly hormonal cycle. (This is more common in individuals who menstruate, or those who use estrogen hormonal therapy, as estrogen can cause inflammation and act as a histamine liberator.)

I already suspected that CIRS was not my issue, but I ultimately soured on my doctors, when, like yourself, they continued to insist there was “toxins” in my environment* and I must not be following their advice properly. There was also heavy emphasis on things like essential oils and herbalism, which I knew from being a licensed practitioner of numerous holistic therapies in my 20s that they were promoting inaccurately and sometimes unsafely when they also continued to insist that my reactions to certain things were caused by “toxins” leaving my body and if I just persisted long enough, I’d see the benefit.

(As an aside, what nasal spray are they insisting you take?)

While it is true many of chronically ill people suffer from chemical sensitivities, the insistence on labelling everything a “toxin” and pushing natural alternatives to an extreme, made me nope out and continue my medical research.

A few years later, I started getting worse following a gnarly dental infection, and I began to experience slow-acting anaphylaxis which a Horrendous number of doctors misdiagnosed as panic attacks and even in one spectacular instance of medical incompetence, bipolar disorder.

By then, I had learned about and suspected that I had MCAS but was too ill to keep fighting my doctors. It wasnt until I almost died in 2019, that a new doctor panicked, threw me at seven specialits in a week and I walked away with a diagnosis of perniciois anemia, likely caused by a mast cell disorder and my body’s inability to absorb things properly.

The hematologist who saved my life referred me to an MCAS specialist who took my hand to shake, looked at how the joints moved in her grasp, and said, “this is now an Ehlers Danlos exam.”

I walked out eight hours later with a diagnosis of hEDS and “probable MCAS and undefined dysautonomia.” which is a fancy way of saying I have a genetic disorder and multiple forms of autonomic nervous system dysfunction.

Not everyone with MCAS has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, but a lot of us do. So if you have problems with chronic pain, joint instability, hyper flexibility (muscles), hyper mobility (joints), soft and easily bruised skin, migraines or a lot of unexplained GI symptoms, it might be worth your while to check and see if EDS might be relevant to you.

The Ehlers Danlos Society has a global directory of physicians you can look up.

Its also worth noting there’s a lot of overlap between people with Autism and ADHD with Ehlers Danlos and Joint Hypermobility Disorder.

Like I said, it may or may not be relavent to you. I’m just throwing it out there in case it helps.

So yeah, that’s basically how it went for me. Two years on mast cell stabilizers and a lot of prescription supplements to combat numerous deficiencies, and my health is unrecognizable from what it was. I still have nasty flare-ups (like now), but that's just an unfortunate reality of life with the numerous conditions I have. I’ll take it any day, however, over what I was living before.

I hope this was helpful and that you find real relief soon. Take care.

______

*nb: to any long-term readers, this was before I unknowingly moved into a house with mold, which is a mast cell destabilizer.

This is partly what makes me think that some people diagnosed with CIRS actually have undiagnosed MCAS because so much of CIRS theory hinges on things like mold sensitivity and other environmental factors, though they never explain why beyond a basic “it's a toxin and toxins are inflammatory.”

#chronic health tag #mcas #long post #dental

[talkingparrotkee]

How I wonder...

What did Riri feel and how was she treated after Ramonda's death? She is another tragedy barely spoken about, let alone explored by the Wakanda Forever fanbase or even narrative itself. In all honesty, it kind of bums me out. Riri often plays a second fiddle and isn't given her independent dues with her true character appreciated. Her along with many other character arcs and traumas aren't as independently delved into like Shuri or Namor's.

Don't get me wrong, I love the attention Shuri and Namor get as a fan of them and even the pair "nashuri" (it's full of entertaining complexities). However, I think there is plenty room for more of these characters to get magnifying spotlight. I strongly believe that some fans should certainly give them more grace too (rather than putting them at the expense of Shuri or Namor and using them as their props), but I digress.

I can imagine Riri Williams suffering from imposter syndrome and survivor's guilt. Mix this in with her overwhelming sense of homesickness and self-blame that probably just became amplified as the movie progressed.

I could see Riri collapsing again out of fatique before waking up sore in a medical bay. I can imagine her half-awake, seeing blurry yet familiar silhouettes off to her side. Her hearing muffled voices and ringing in her ears. I can see her being treated as a ghost for the most part after she fully awakes with her basic necessities met. After all, Wakanda had a lot more things to tend to. Broken infrastructure, search parties, citizen patients, a dead queen... Resources had to be channeled elsewhere.

Not that Riri minded, of course. On top of all that, I can envision her trying to shrink herself and stay out of the way, plagued with remorse, floating in a sea of confusion.

Riri is also not present at the funeral.

All in all, Riri reminds me of middle child syndrome, which especially stands out in a crowd of characters experiencing atleast elements of eldest child syndrome (Shuri, Okoye, Namor...).

Despite the fact that this all more or less regards Riri and seemingly orbited her, she was farthest from the center. How can it be that these things had something to do with her yet at the same time it was all besides her?

Yeah, she made the vibranium detector and didn't have foresight, but the idea was planted by her professor (an authority figure she is supposed to trust). The FBI stole her work and later wanted to hunt her down again because she was the only one they had capable of building that machine. The American government also wanted to use her as a guise for destabilizing Wakanda. Namor wanted to cut off every loose end to ensure Talokan's safety, which happened to include her. Halfway in, it was revealed that it really wasn't about Riri (by Namor's own words), but what she was unknowingly a catalyst key for. Riri was, in the words of Letitia Wright, alao the reflection of T'Challa's choice, hence why everyone fought so hard for her.

Even in the original script, we see Namor stating that he would kill a thousand scientists if it meant protecting his people. So what would be one girl? When facing off Shuri, Namor dismissively points out that her death was already set by the creation of her detector. This is an ominous, but true point: if not him, someone else would seek her head in due time, and for far less noble means.

Ultimately, Riri was at the wrong place at the wrong time unknowingly rubbing elbows with the wrong people. It was always beyond her yet still had her strung along. Her only crime was ambition and brilliance. How messed up is that?

To fully understand the gravity of Riri's circumstance, let's go to the very beginning...

92%: The first wave that crashed down onto Riri was when the Princess of Wakanda unexpectedly came to her dorm. She thought her extensive efforts to prove herself as a young black woman living in the United States of America finally paid off. Riri thought she was being recruited to the Wakandan outreach program. Every time her brilliance was recognized, she couldn't help but puff out her chest!

This almost naive excitement of hers went down the drain as what she thinks is a "recruitment" is a "search and rescue" (originally kidnap and ship off to Namor somewhere off the coast of Madagascar, probably ending in eventual death for her 😟) mission. Shuri gives her a blunt, "no" with a face (ouch!) before telling her that she must evacuate and go with her (a stranger, at that point, Princess of Wakanda be damned) as she's in grave danger. Okoye didn't help matters at all, wielding a spear and threatening her cooperation.

How foolish she was, Riri would go to think later.

78%: We arrive at her garage. We see that Riri is cautious to have strangers in her personal space, with all her inventions, life work, and sentimental belongings such as her father's car vulnerably on full display. Then Shuri starts touching things. Riri, who already is on edge, snaps a bit. Shortly after, the police and FBI are brought at her door, danger she knows all too well...

64%: One moment Riri is flying through the air thinking they're safe, the next everything hurys then goes black. Then she wakes up underneath the ocean in a dimly lit cenote, flanked by spear-wielding aquatic smurfs. Riri suffers a panic attack.

The only "familiar" face and person she knows who probably doesn't want her dead is Princess Shuri (who is as lost as Riri is). After she narrowly pulls herself together, they are separated (there is no strength in the little numbers they had now).

53%: How did Shuri's "underwater date" go? Did they do whatever royals do and make up? Drink some fancy smancy tea and let bygones be bygones? Is this another Beauty and the Beast, best case scenario?

Hell no. 🫤

Now Namor is talking about war with the surface world (including the United States, which is her home nation. Oopsie). Shuri ceremoniously kept the tidbit of Riri dying from her. How nice.

42%: They take a breather getting served food. Their nerves are frazzled with Shuri racking her brain for their next move, but what alerts Riri next are shouts and shots. A dead guard lays on her right. Shuri is being held by the formerly nice, now scared handmaiden about her age (confirmed in the script) with a knife held threateningly to Shuri's body. Riri barely understands the tense situation, words are exchanged in foreign languages she doesn't know, and shortly afterwards, the maiden is fatally shot, helplessly clutching her wound in pure terror after crashing into one of their beds.

"You don't understand!" Shuri shouts, voice thick with panic. "This means war!"

All she knows is that Nakia, who she also doesn't know, is right and they should go. Now.

Riri and Shuri are clutching to Nakia for dear life, swimming through dark waters, leaving death in their wake.

32%: All of this chaos is a whirlwind in the 19-year-old's mind. She is caught between political unrest and war between two of the world's most powerful nations. Riri had her share of adventure. Not even the grandeur of Wakanda she once could only dream of can enchant her to stay. All the wants to do is go home. All she wants to do is see her mother she was forced to leave behind. She is a fish out of water being thrown in an environment she knows jack about.

Afrer the responses the Queen gives her, she knows she cannot go home.

Then suddenly, an attack rings out. Riri is terrified. Riri doesn't know what to do, but she does what she can. And that isn't enough.

21%:

Riri sees Namor angrily glaring at her. He's probably replaying the dying handmaiden in his mind. He already was after her before, so there is definitely no words to save her now.

Before he can get too close, Ramonda intervenes, blocking her view as if she was her own child.

"Go, child!"

The last thing Riri saw was the warm queen's hand outstretched to hand, the waterbomb, glimpses of an enraged Namor, and destruction. Everything went dark, her body heavy. when she was pulled to the light, she's coughing up water. She sees the cold queen beside her, still as a rock, and a Shuri's excruciating cries.

The queen was dead because she protected her. Shuri, kind Shuri, strong Shuri, was left broken and orphaned.

11%: I am sure Shuri was holed up in her lab the majority of the time. It must have taken Riri all that she could to put her immobilizing fear aside to join Shuri-Wakanda in a battle they may not come back out of alive.

2%: Riri sees Shuri and Nakia talk about cardiac arrest drinking some odd purple herbal substance. She sees Shuri steeling herself, and mirrors Nakia in providing any comfort she can aa she sees her friend struggle against the Heartshaped-herb's side effects. In the midst of battle, she faced Namor (the person she was running and being sheltered from) head on, powerfully murmuring, "for the queen."

Even at the end, Riri remarks that she was helping Wakanda clean up her mess. So yes, she did place a fair amount of blame on herself.

I loved to think and touch on Riri's psyche. It helped me garner more appreciation for her character. The way that she still stepped up to the plate and strived to make herself useful was admirable. The way she didn't cave and still retained with a degree of warmth-lightheartedness after the hell she went through is astonishing.

I can't wait to see her spread her wings and gain her name in Ironheart.

#riri williams #black panther #wakanda forever #bpwf #deep dive #character appreciation #marvel mcu #shuri riri #princess shuri #queen ramonda #riri mcu #ironheart

[purgemarchlockdown]

The Intertextuality of Magic and Purge March

(CW: Child Abuse, Torture, Cults)

So, Intertextuality is defined as the relationship between two texts, and is usually used in literature to discuss the interplay and intersect between two (usually separate) works.

Now, Milgram isn't a book and since it's a Series the MVs are naturally interconnected with each other. But the Way those MVs connect and the nature of there relationship is fascinating to me and I'd like to talk about the way Magic and Purge March connect with each other, since I think the way the two MVs shape Amane Momose's story is really interesting and well-written.

A Lot of scenes, events, and objects in Magic can be mapped onto scenes in Purge March, and a lot of things that Did Happen/Are Involved aren't in Purge March but in Magic and vice versa.

For example, As people have noted, Amane actually has Two murder weapons.

The umbrella, which is presented in Purge March and not in Magic.

And the taser, which Isn't in Purge March but Is in Magic.

We already have an incredibly important detail that isn't included in Purge March but Is in Magic.

Except, this detail probably wouldn't have been noticed in the first place if it wasn't for Purge March Establishing that a taser exists in the first place.

Purge March also does a lot of fun recontextualization of elements in Magic. See, the stagelight and the cat.

Most people Assumed this was a literal stagelight (myself included) except Purge March doesn't have this light Anywhere. Which seems strange considering how important it is in Magic as the thing that causes the cat to be hurt in the first place.

The cat was also something taken as a stand in for a human that got hurt. Not a literal cat.

Except, not only is the cat a Literal cat, the the injury on the cat in Magic isn't even the same in Purge March!

But wait there's more! Because Amane is paralleled with the cat

So not only is the cat a literal cat, it is also a stand in! Just for someone we didn't expect.

While the stagelight is most likely just a metaphor, since Magic is a TV SHOW and a Tv show needs lighting. The Stagelight falling being a metaphor for how the cat lead to the destabilization of Amane's "ideal" reality. Purge March completely contextualizes one of the most important parts of Purge March.

Which leads to even more interesting implications and themes, since we can take the cat's death by her abusers as...a metaphorical killing of Amane Momose.

Something that she does To Herself in Purge March.

(Though The cat is also...multiple different metaphors stuck inside a girl and a cat but we do not have the Time to unpack all of that and it's not too relevant to this discussion.)

This is what really makes me love Magic and Purge March, it's their ability to recontextualize each other in interesting directions and the way information is hidden and obscured by the both of them. Only being able to be seen if you look at both of them together.

And while that is true for the other MVs I think it's the most prevalent in Magic and Purge March!

The way the lyrics interact with each other is also really interesting and how it helps show how conflicted Amane is about her situation and how she should Feel About it.

Even I can say "I'm sorry" Even I have hope I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it! ---------------- After you cry, repent, and kneel, it’s now your turn to say that hopeless “I’m sorry”

Not meaning to brag but I’m pretty happy I’ve made up my mind so they don’t make that face at me again ------------------------ If you become a bad girl, monsters will come out This is the magic that stops that from happening

It's inaccurate to call Magic Amane a less aware Amane because I'd argue she's Very Aware to some extent.

This is a show she's acting in and she knows it. Magic is a plea in a sense, to her parents, to Es, to god to forgive her. That she Can Be a Good Girl. Not that she is, that she Can Be.

I won’t say “I’ve had enough” Will you laugh with me and forgive me?

While Purge March Amane is happily dealing out justice by destroying "sin." She's not presenting good girl as if it's something she isn't, she's presenting it as something she Already is.

We must not give into them, they are the ones that should be judged With pure, unsullied body and soul, let us preach all that is true and right

Sure she might have some weaknesses but she gets rid of them easily and efficiently!

And these two Amane's are the Same Amane.

That medal, the cape, the wings, the feathers- This the same Amane. This is the Ideal Amane. Just recontextualized and framed in a different light. Magic Amane is on the path to being a good girl while Purge March Amane is. This change in perception being a consequences of our "condemnation" of her actions in T1!

Amane is More Critical of herself, More Punishing, More Strict in Purge March. But also more sure of her own righteousness than in Magic.

However, Magic and Purge March both downplay Amane's pain in some way.

Even with how sure she is of her own righteousness Amane still diminishes her own suffering.

You see my point- these two MVs are constantly discussing and interacting with each other and I just think that's cool.

I could talk about it more but if I did we would be here forever, plus I've already discussed alot of these points in different posts. I just wanted to talk about why I think it's so interesting.

#milgram #amane momose #008 #milgram amane #cw child abuse #cw cults #milgram meta #milgram analysis #I FINALLY DID IT! #its shorter than I thought but thats because Ive talked so much about a lot of this that it would be redundant if I talked about it here lo

[vibratingskull]

Beyond Loyalty: Your Forbidden Feelings

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

Tags : self deprecation, passing out

FemaleReader x Thrawn

Love, fear and incredulity mix in a cocktail leaving you more confused than you ever been 

You pound like crazy on his door. Behind it you hear him grumbling but coming, it doesn’t stop you.

“Maker! WHA-”

You don’t let Azrel finish his phrase and throw yourself into his arms, hugging him with all your might. He catches you with a gasp. You grasp his top and reach for his lips desperately. Confused, he manages to get a hold of you and pacify you enough.

“Roween, maker what happened? You’re terrifying me.”

“Azrel, oh Azrel… I had the most terrifying nightmare. You died at the hand of an unknown killer. I was left alone…” You lie clinging to him.

You dig your nails into his chemise, frantically trying to reach his lips, but he successfully avoids them.

“Hold on, Roween. You’re in some sort of shock. Come inside, I’ll prepare you a hot drink.” He encircles your shoulders and brings you inside his penthouse. The door closes shut behind you.

You’re waiting on the sofa when he brings you a fuming cup of hot cocoa.

“With whipped cream, just as you love it.”

A contrite smile appears on your mouth, it’s true you love your cocoa like this, you’re touched by him remembering this insignificant detail. You blow the steam away, and take a sip. You appear calmed down, but interiorly your turmoil still rages on. He laughs as a pinch of cream is on your nose, he gently swipes it up and licks it off his finger. You chuckle and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“Now that you’re calmed, tell me what happened.” He says softly.

“I dreamed you were eviscerated. Under my eyes.” You lie again, eyes down into your fuming cup.

You like his attentions and his affection but you’re here for a reason, and he already evades you two times. He squeezes you gently with a chuckle.

“I am right here, my pearl. Everything is okay, you’re not alone. If anything were to happen to me, our friends would be here for you.” He kisses your temple.

“That’s reassuring.” You answer with empty words.

“That’s what a community is for!” He continues laying his head on yours.

You quickly finish your cup, burning your tongue in the process.

“Now that I’m calmed down, can I have a kiss?” Hurry up, you need confirmation.

He snorts, grinning broadly.

“My, my. You’re really demanding today, was it that bad?”

You snuggle against him, look up to him with puppy eyes and use your most honeyed voice.

“Yes, it was! A kiss would really make me feel better…” 

He rubs the tip of his nose with yours.

“Yes, my pearl.”

Finally, your lips meet in a tender kiss. You close your eyes to savor it. Your heart jolts. He changed toothpaste, you note, he caresses your cheek and you grasp his shoulder. You part, forehead against forehead.

“Feeling better?” He coos.

“Yes!” Without warning you rise up from your station, destabilizing him. “I’ll go now.”

He looks at you with round eyes. 

“You… You’re gonna go like that? Get a kiss and flee like a thief?”

You wink at him and blow a kiss.

“I have the assurance you’re well and good now, and I have work.” You run away touching your lips.

it can’t be possible…

Why…

You into the first community shuttle bringing you home. You collapse on a seat, your mind running wild, panting. 

You didn’t see him…

When you kissed Azrel you smelled cologne…

When your lips touched and your eyes closed you saw blue and red…

When his hand touched your cheek you imagined a warmer skin…

You hug yourself all the way home, and climb the stairs wobbly but reach your apartment nonetheless. Your exhausted. It is only 7am but you’re exhausted. You collapse on your bed, hugging your pillow. 

What now? You think.

 What now?

 You curl on yourself. 

What’s different now? Do you know how many officers go under the desk for a promotion? He tried his shot with you and you refused. Nothing has to change. 

Your conscience is taking great delight in that situation, hammering down its reproach and lynch you at every occasion, 

He surely receives visits regularly of some unshy young officers eager to show themself “available” for the hierarchy. If you behaved yourself good and nice that night you might have heard about a promotion by now… 

You press a pillow on your face like you tried to suffocate yourself. Could it be? Could he do that? Did you dupe yourself into thinking he was a man of greater honor? That he was above those practices. 

Please, you saw him! He’s surely the most popular of the bunch, don’t tell me there isn’t some rampant Alien fetish in both parts…

You press the pillow down harder, your mind assailed by images of Thrawn enjoying a blow from an officer eager to please him. You grit your teeth, digging your nails into the fabric. You see him, his jacket open, sipping off a glass, passing a hand in his hair with his head thrown back while a junior nobody is bobbing away diligently. This makes you want to scream.

Funny you didn’t react so harshly at Nather’s and Eli treachery…

You throw the pillow away, in rage. How dare he?! Treating you like that, like a whore that would do anything to propel her career? You’re properly enraged now.

Aren’t you? Don’t you desperately cling to Nather for the security he provides? Didn’t you sell your dignity for protection? Aren’t you not as allured by power than those junior nobodies? You’re ready to suck up a treachery for security, don’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind to accept his offer for one second…

You violently change sides on the mattress, fuming, at war with yourself.

What could he see in you anyway? You’re just a lieutenant commander when you should already be captain. Pity is where it’s at. I bet he picked on your pathetic situation and decided to be nice for one night, and you got all worked up over nothing. 

Shut up.

He noticed how lonely you are, realized you didn’t get over him and decided to have some fun with you this night. Don’t flatter yourself. He surely has bigger fish to hook. 

Shut the fuck up. You didn’t take the offer, you remained loyal, why torture yourself then?

Loyal to a cheater, that’s the only thing you have going for you. Lie to yourself however you want, but recognize you’re pretty pathetic.

You sigh and breathe through your nose, tears behind your eyes, it is useless to fight with yourself but your mind is spinning, running after its own tails, rehashing the same thoughts. You gulp with difficulty. At the corner of your eyes a light flicker. You look up.

A ray of sun shines upon a ring.

The ring.

You take it in your hand. Rolling it between your fingers. Why this ring then?

A gift to sweeten you, he’s not rude to the point of proposing a night without treating you a bit first, besides you don’t even know its true value…

You observe it, sobbing. The intricate wicker braids design with the shiny metals complimenting each other. It’s true you can’t evaluate it’s true worth, but you can recognize the Orichalc. Plus he said he has made it specifically for you with precious metal from his world. That counts for something, no? 

Tell yourself that. Orichalc is as common as iron for a Grand Admiral, and you have no proof for the other metal.

Tears are rolling on your cheeks, you’re shaked by shudders. Stop looking at it, you’re hurting yourself. But you’re inexplicably drawn to the ring. Is it because it’s a gift from him? Are you disillusioned to the point of cherishing a gift supposed to make you more malleable to his caress? But something calls for you in this ring…

But what?

You keep looking at it through the sobs and tremors. And then…

A flash…

Could it be…?

You rise in a sitting position in a jump, a memory of your grandparents coming back to you. 

The alliances!

In your homeland, ages ago, the alliances weren’t made of metal… But of wicker braids.

You remain immobile, incredulous, eyes fixed on the ring.

Is it… ?

No.

Impossible.

But if only…

You cannot possibly believe that.

You hold the ring close to your heart. An elated sentiment spreads through your veins, but confusion remains and terror takes place.

Am I to remind you that you are both in love and engaged to another man?

________________________________________________________________

You don’t sleep well lately. And you’re still as confused.

“Straighten up, (Y/l/n)!” Grunts Susaria Officer, the commodore of the Relentless “I don’t know why the Grand Admiral asked for your presence but you better not hold yourself like that in his presence!”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.”

Correction. You don’t sleep at all, and the small naps keeping you going stopped when you heard Thrawn demand your presence at the meeting. You’re both hopeful and worried, you’re just a lieutenant commander, normally he would ask for only the presence of the commodore with the Admiral Konstantine, especially if he comes himself on the ship. But he asked for you. You try to straighten your back as knots in your stomach keep turning acidic. The doors open, inside is Admiral Konstantine,Governor Pryce, the other Commodores of the Konstantine fleet and the Seventh, their low officers and, indeed, back turned to you, Thrawn. You gulp as you pass the door. You both salute your superiors and wait for the meeting to start.

Every eye turns to Thrawn. He remains silent, observing space through the bay, his hand joined behind his back. He finally lets a long sigh escape him before turning back towards everyone. His hard gaze navigates to each person around the circular console, your eyes meet but his stern and controlled expression doesn’t let you determine anything while you feel yourself melt under the intensity of his gaze. You blink, trying to stay awake. He presses a button and a holographic ISD appears.

“This, sirs and ma’ams, is the ISD Wyvern. Less than a week ago this ISD was stolen from your Empire by a cell of Rebels…”

A shudder and a murmur traverse the assistance, you open your eyes wide. A ISD? Stolen? How?

“... The cell was almost disintegrated in its attempt but succeeded in its enterprise nonetheless and stripped the Empire of a powerful weapon to equip the Rebellion. This is intolerable.”

“It is inconceivable that such a thing happened under our guard.” Continues Governor Pryce, she looks enraged “Useless to say the Emperor is dissatisfied.” The way she tells it indicates she more than likely received menaces from Tarkin himself “You all have been summoned to remedy this problem.”

How could this happen? Did the rebels have a mole or something?

“You will be deployed under a new directive, and will investigate this unique… situation. Your mission is to first and foremost retrieve the ISD and destroy it only if necessary.” Thrawn pursues, changing the hologram to a map of the region. “After studying the different vectors it appears evident they are hiding in this region. However, the incredible violence they showed themself capable of makes me think we are not dealing with the Phoenix squadron or their associates, but a different cell, more extremist.”

You look at him, fascinated and afraid, how he conducts himself, how he naturally commands thanks to his charisma and experience. Everyone is hanging onto every word, listening carefully and nodding to his instructions. But behind your head, in your mind, questions linger, what about you both now? He doesn’t seem to conduct himself differently than usual, if anything he seems a bit angry, the way he speaks and his vocabulary choices indicate to you he’s short on patience. He surely heard about it through Tarkin or worse, through Vader or the Emperor himself.

“Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n), would you quit staring at me and give me an answer?”

You blink, suddenly back in present times with Thrawn looking at you frowning and everyone else eyesiding you. Oops. So entranced by his sight and tired you completely lost the thread of the conversation, what did they say? 

“Sir, sorry sir, I…”

Pryce sighs with disdain.

“We were asking you if you can lead a legion to Baros.”

“Oh yes, sir, I can.” You respond, confused to be put on the spot like that.

Someone somewhere is giving you a slow clap while shaking their head, you can feel it. Thrawn ostensibly fixes you with a sharp gaze before Pryce speaks again

“Needless to say that this feat shines a terrible light on the Navy as a whole and the Empire by procuration. Needless to precise either than everyone will be scrutinized and the less efficient will be removed from the Navy. The less… focus will obviously be the first to go.” 

You don’t need to raise your eyes to him to feel his gaze on you. 

Your stomach aches. This barb was specially for you. Your mind spins at max speed, is he… is he menacing you of losing your career for not having complied with him? He wouldn’t dare… He’s not a man to do that, right? You look up to him. 

He is pissed.

As much as he allows it to show of course, but by now you get to know the man a bit. You came to miss your breath. He’s dead serious. He looks hard at all the people present reminding them who’s in charge here while Pryce continues to present the plan. You lower your head, blinking several times. Your last nap goes back to three days ago, you have difficulty remaining focused and your vision starts doubling.

“You are dismissed.” The order resonates in the room.

Finally. You know your agenda: you're off duty for the next 5 hours. As much time to sleep! As you go away you feel a strange sensation in the back of your neck, you turn to see Thrawn fixed on you frowning while Pryce talks to him about something on a datapad. A shudder shakes you and you get a move one, relieved to hear the door shutting behind you.

You go back to your cabin the best you could with a head dizzy and collapse on your bed with a sigh of relief. You want to forget everything; Please. Just the time for you to sleep a bit. But behind your closed eyelid a light is bugging you, a sort of flash. You open your eyes with regret and look up. It’s your datapad, apparently you received a message from your family informant! You instantly rise up sitting on your bed, fully focused. You open the message with anticipation, it displays a date, a place and a name. You quickly search the place, it’s a well known open-air market on Tyrahnn. The name gives you several criminal stunts in the Tyrahnn region by a group of pirates. It looks like you have their next rendez-vous. Your resolution grows stronger. You’re gonna show them all!

A knock at your door tears you from your screen.

“Coming!” 

You press the button and the door opens on… Thrawn. You take a step back surprised. What is he doing here? Is he here to scold you for your comportment? To insist on his menace earlier? He looks at you blasé, from head to toes, like he’s silently judging you. You gulp. He isn’t gonna… bring that night again, you hope.

“Room inspections, Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n)” He gently pushes you out of the way with his hand.

“What?” You ask incredulously.

“I am here to verify you do not own any illicit product, Lieutenant Commander.” He answers in an uninterested tone.

No, you understood that. Your question is why him? Those inspections are randomly conducted by superiors or agents of the ISB, but not Grand Admirals! He walks to the center of your little cabin, looking around with thin lips. Next to his suite your room must be miserable, and he doesn't bother himself to hide it. For some reason it drives you mad. This is your cabin, your room, your privacy! He has no right to trample on that, Grand Admiral or not. You’re waiting for his next words, but he contemptuously opens some drawers, picking some specks of dust off the surfaces, half-heartedly investigating your dressing. He takes his sweet times, while your anger grows. Your vision starts swaying, you need to sit down. But you don’t. He keeps lazily switching through the little clothes you're allowed to bring on an ISD.

And suddenly it dawns on you.

He’s searching for the dress.

“Leave…” Yous say in a white voice

He turns his head to you, indifferent.

“What did you just say?” He asks calmly.

 You’re so furious you’re trembling.

“I. Said. Leave.” You detach each word, making sure to be heard.

He raises an eyebrow, turning fully to you.

“Or what, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Leave immediately or I-” You take a raging step towards him, but your legs give out under you.

You collapse on the floor impromptu with a gasp. Thrawn catches you, kneeling down on the ground holding your shoulders while you try to come to your senses.

“Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n)! Are you alright?” He demands

Your head is spinning at max speed, and your vision tripled. You hold your temples with a groan. He pulls you against his chest. You weakly push back.

“No… leave me alone…” You murmur in a breath.

You blink. You’re losing colors. 

“Dont..  torture me… anymore…”

He silently swoops you and stands up with you bridal style. He carries you somewhere, you can’t say where, you’re too exhausted. Your head nods gently as he walks, you stop fighting back and let it lay against his shoulder. You mumble something incoherent and inaudible, and definitively lose consciousness.

____________________________________________________________

He walks peacefully, with a precious cargo in his arms.

It is an… interesting day. 

Full of tension, of electricity.

First The Phoenix squadron that keeps evading him, ever so slightly getting on his nerves, and then the robbery of the Wyvern. He doesn't have other words than fantastic to qualify this feat. Stealing an ISD right under the Empire’s nose is nothing short but fantastic, making their authors worthy prey of his skills, he’s the man of the situation so of course the Emperor tasked him with it. 

But the timing is wrong, everything is wrong lately and Thrawn isn’t used to wrong, he’s used to success.

Something is wrong. 

Terribly wrong. 

Since he is awake the weight on his chest worsen and his lungs are compressed. The air whistle every time he exhales and burns him when he inhales. He has the sensation of embers devouring his organs.

But the worst must be the headache, like razor blades scraping every nerves in his skull. 

Maker, how this is painful. 

He knows what is happening, it is not his first time. But the pain has never been this intense, however. 

There is little he can do to help it right now, the other imperial officers will arrive in a matter of minutes. 

Even if he had time, his solutions are nothing more but palliatives that grow less and less efficient each time he resorts to them. They do not address the real problem. 

You. 

Since that night his… Primal instincts… Are fully awake and they are not planning on getting back to sleep, unfortunately.  He always despised this… Downside of his own species. 

He gazes in front of him but stares into space, back to the holomap. The others will never suspect what is happening inside his body and mind, but he needs to put himself together this time for the crisis is the most intense he ever got. 

Every Chiss is trained to put a mask on and act unwaveringly in front of outsiders and among themself since their earliest childhood. Personal expression and individuality are hardly encouraged in the Ascendancy, nothing was more important than the prosperity of the Chiss empire over one's selfish ambition. Abnegation was their name. 

He had worn this mask for so long he was intimately persuaded it had become his actual face. A stoic, illegible visage with no desire for itself other than the survival and expansion of its kind by any means necessary. To achieve his goal he was ready to make the sacrifice of his person and inner desires. 

Yet, you appeared in his life and slowly but surely you have managed to fissure the mask. You wanted to see what he was hiding behind it, to expose what he had carefully suppressed and buried deep inside of him. And now his instinct keeps roaring to claim their prize, a prize that isn’t rightfully his. 

Out of reach. In the arms of another man.

He sighs.

He can’t even claim he hates that man. He’s merely but an obstacle to his desire. 

The question was more : does he have any right? 

You’re engaged, you promised yourself to each other. Back in nature, in the animal reign he would have slain his rival no question asked, but he is a civilized man, a man of rules and order. Unfortunately his nature came in conflict with one of his species.

He would need a sign, a thing that gives him permission to chase after you.

He sighs.

Some days he wishes that he was born another race, one that doesn’t experience such baseless low instinct in those situations. 

He remembers this night. It plays in repeat in his head. 

What did he thought? That you would throw yourself in his arms?

Like if it was this easy.

He remembers you fleeing the scene in tears. He really shocked you. That’s what you get for being careless. 

He wonders if he spoiled everything. If he still has the right to call you friend or if you definitely closed your heart to him.

Pryce is talking to him but he can’t listen, her voice irritates him this morning. Behind him he hears the sounds of the door.

You are here.

He sighs and places back the stoic mask. It is just another day, nothing he can’t face.

He turns back towards the assembly, everyone is hanging to every one of his words as usual. He looks at you for a brief second. 

You look terrible.

Your features are drawn and you have bags under your eyes. You don’t stand as straight as usual and blink constantly. You’re completely exhausted. He feels a pinch in his heart. 

Is it his fault?

Surely not, he doesn’t have that kind of power over you.

Everyone turns their eyes towards the hologram, but you keep fixing him. He clears his throat, he’s not used to being fixed like that, usually when people do that they listen to anything he has to say. You, you’re clearly in your mind, thinking some unfathomable things. Your body language denotes impatience. You don’t want to be here. You seem impatient to get out.

Out of here? Away from him?

“Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n), you will take a legion to Baros.”

No reaction. You’re still fixed on him with an enigmatic expression. 

What?!

Who do you think you are to provoke such turmoil in him and remain so unfazed?

“Lieutenant Commander (Y/l/n), would you quit staring at me and give me an answer?”

You blink and seem to realize you’ve been spoken to. He looks at the assembly but his gaze keeps going back to you.

He gives you quick glances, nothing suspectful. But he can’t help himself.

“You’re dismissed.” He orders.

He can’t take it anymore. He will have to make an end to it. He looks at you go, you’re really tired. He frowns., what could have shook you like that? 

You turn towards him and your eyes cross. You look at him with revulsion and walk away quickly. Away from him.

His gaze follows you until the door closes behind you, taking away with you his last chance at joy with you. He’s deaf to Pryce's monologue about a meager thing. He excuses himself politely and heads towards your room.

Proper excuses and farewell would be appropriate. He will never bother you again.

He knocks at your door. You open.

You look even worse this close. Your exhaustion and nervousness is evident. He see a hint of excitement too. He lies to enter.

It is the first and last time he enters your privacy, your most sacred and private place. He already forgot how small those cabins used to be when he was at your place. He will speak with Konstantine, see if anything can be done about that. It would be his last present, a more comfortable life on your ISD… 

A flicker of light catches his attention in a drawer ajar. By pure curiosity he opens it and his eyes widen.

This is it.

His sign.

Nothing is yet lost.

He keeps pretending to search for anything illicit, searching your dresser to hide his trembling hand. The room smells your scent and enters his lungs deeply. 

He feels himself revived. 

Behind him you're absolutely fuming. He gets that, he won’t bother you for long, he has what he wants. He refrains himself from smiling at your insolent attitude, that’s more like you.

You take a raging step towards him and… Fall.

He catches you just in time before you hit your head. You’re three shades paler than usual. You push him back weakly, but he can’t just let you here without doing anything.

“No… leave me alone…” You murmur in a breath. “Dont..  torture me… anymore…”

He scoops you gently and heads towards the med bay. You’re mumbling something, your head on his shoulder. This will delay his departure from the Relentless but who would say anything to him?

He lays you down in one of the beds, caressing your forehead with the tip of his fingers, placing back a strand of hair. He retracts his hand. 

No. 

He doesn’t have the right to touch you yet.

Soon.

He assures himself the meddroids took you in their care and leave you, reludanctly.

He can’t wait now that he knows.

His sign…

The ring…

You brought it with you.

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin@ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #fanfic #vibratingskull

[imperiuswrecked]

People seem to do anything to make Namor the villain. I think he’s misunderstood and pretty neat.

The sooner people let go of the "Hero or Villain" mentality when it comes to Namor, the better.

Namor isn't good or bad, he's simply Namor. With all the complexities it comes with being Namor. I've seen many people call him a villain, but they're wrong, he's an anti-hero, but he's also a king. Namor knows sometimes he’s a monster to others but all that matters is the protection of his people. Anti-heros have their own moral code.

Are you a Hero, Namor? Or are you a Monster? I’m a King. So I’m both.

Atlantis Attacks (2020) #1

I am King of Atlantis. I must protect my citizens, whatever the risk! You can spend your days being a “Hero” living in a world of moral absolutes, but when you have a civilization to defend, sometimes there is nothing but gray!

Sub-Mariner (2007) #4

Answering this here because it’s basically the same:

Was Namor being too much in the film? Is going after someones parent worse than one of their subjects? Wdyt???

In Avengers Arena (2013) #15 Namor orders and carries out the execution of of two traitors of Atlantis. He speaks to their daughter whom he had just orphaned.

“I did not summon you here to punish you for your parents treachery. These crimes are theirs alone. Nor am I asking you to forgive me their deaths. You’ve earned your contempt. Keep it. But I do hope you will accept one last gift from your King. A lesson to be learned from this mess. Trust in yourself and no one else. You’ll be less often disappointed.”

Namor doesn’t go after people because he’s a murderer, or some psychopath, or evil. He always has a reason for his actions. There were consequences for the actions others took as well.

To Namor, Ramonda threatened the lives of his subjects, one of her Wakandan Agents, Nakia, killed his people on Ramonda’s orders to do whatever it took to find Riri and Shuri and bring them home (Namor didn’t kidnap her, Shuri asked to go). Why is Ramonda’s life worth more than the lives of two of Namor’s people? Where is the scale to measure lives to see which is more just than the other in this case? I see a lot of people say Namor is wrong but it’s just like how people treat Namor in comic fandom. They view Namor’s actions from the perspective of humans, but Namor was never a human hero. Comic and now MCU fandom always disregards the lives of Atlanteans/Talokanil as canon fodder because they are just another subject, but to Namor each one of them is a person he swore to protect.

I was actually very surprised by Coogler going that far because not only does it stay true to Namor’s core character but it also meant Coogler understood that Namor isn’t going to pull his punches, or soften his actions. Namor will do anything, will take on any burden, will bloody his hands, if it means his people are safe and thriving. For Namor to do anything less would be a great disservice to his character. Yes, it’s terrible what he did, but the way Namor views it, it’s justified. Honestly I see people upset that Namor got into Queen Ramonda’s face but isn’t some innocent bystander in this, she is a POWER, she is a Queen, she commands a Nation, and Namor’s every interaction and response to her was because he understands she is the most powerful person on the surface.

This movie forces people to think, and once again alot of people missed the point completely and didn’t see that Wakanda and Talokan both have a common enemy who pulled the strings/set into motion their clashes. I know the “American/French want Vibranium” wasn’t a flashy part of the movie but it’s their actions of seeking to destabilize and then steal resources from the nations that got this whole thing started.

If people want to come and be annoying in my inbox about me “not caring that Ramonda was murdered by Namor” and that I’m “excusing a murderer because he’s hot”, just don’t bother. I look at things very analytically when it comes to character meta and these are fictional characters. If you can’t understand by now that me understanding the viewpoint of fictional characters motivations doesn’t mean I condone murder, then you really shouldn’t be in fandom.

#namor #mcu namor #black panther wakanda forever spoilers #namor the sub mariner #mcu namora #queen ramonda #princess shuri #hulk #amadeus cho #avengers arena #black panther: wakanda forever #imp answers