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moonastro · 3 months

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Juno persona chart

the moon in the house

what is a juno persona chart? looking into juno persona chart gives more detailed insight of how the relationship and marriage overall of you and your spouse will be like. it also describes them in a sense as well. The Greek Goddess Juno is described to rule over love and marriage and hence why the asteroid is looked into for that theme.

the moon rules over emotions, comfort and your most inner feelings. in the juno persona chart, the moon represents emotional connections, intimacy and the nurturing qualities within the marriage.

reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.

moon in 1st house: this placement gives the impression of needing and having the urge to help and nurture their partner. this placement tends to give their other half a very self aware approach to their emotions, this may cause them to share and express it openly in the relationship. they are conscious about their emotions and this is the type to show how they feel on their face- their facial expressions are very strong. deep down this placement takes pride in their ways of dealing with their emotions and how they show it to their partner. since they have very expressive facials they may expect others to know what they are feeling without the need to talk about them. marriage will be full of affirmations about each others pride and existence.

spouse can have natal moon in aries, 1st house, fire sign.

moon in 2nd house: emotional connections are very common with this placement. seeking for financial security withing the relationships can be a priority here. this placement can definitely cause a couple to have good careers and just overall very career focused and determined- very hardworking. this placement calls for attaching themselves very easily to their partner so be careful not to become possessive over each other. another thing with this placement is that they usually feel that they need to work hard in order to allow themselves to rest and have their comfort, and these individuals love their comfort so they will thrive for it. in marriage as a whole, can be good with nurturing each others emotional states and good at making each other feel better. for example if your partner is having a bad day, you will be the first person they'll come to reassure themselves. both parties love to eat and have a good hearty meal together. i feel like it can bring nostalgia when you have food with your other person and it becomes a staple in your every day routine. it can be a simple snack that changes the days mood for this placement. speaking of moods, the mood of the marriage can fluctuate and can sometimes feel out of the blue when the change does happen without any context.

spouse can have their natal moon in taurus, 2nd house, earth sign.

moon in 3rd house: the moon here give attentive tendencies towards the way the couple communicates with each other. they feel each others sudden moves and are sensitive about the comments the other has to say. i feel like talking can be comforting and just sharing how each others day went and what little errands they did that day and overall making one another think about a question can make the other feel better. this placement may like to vary their way of communicating and sharing their interests. talking about each others trips that they took or about school when they were younger can make one another feel excited and comforted and it can be something one another can relate and ask questions about. like why did you do that, how did that happen? and so on. there can be emotions shared when talked about each others life when you were younger and the neighbourhood that you lived at that time, it may hold some emotional memories from that time.

spouse can have their natal moon in gemini, 3rd house, air sign.

moon in 4th house: family dynamics may play a significant role in shaping the individual's approach to relationships. This placement understands and respects their family values and traditions, and may prioritize building a family of their own. Conversely, this placement may also indicate that the individual themselves are nurturing and caring towards their partner. They may naturally take on the role of providing emotional support and creating a comforting environment within the relationship. security within the marriage is important. this placement is very supporting and empathetic for their other half. if their partner is hurt, they are hurt, they feel what they feel very easily and it can be quite consuming.

spouse can have their natal moon in cancer, 4th house, water sign.

moon in 5th house: Individuals with this placement may express their emotions most strongly within romantic relationships. They may seek partners who appreciate their romantic gestures and who provide them with emotional warmth and affection in return. There is often a strong connection between emotional expression and creativity in relationships. These individuals may find fulfillment in creative pursuits with their partners, such as artistic projects or hobbies they enjoy together. The 5th house also relates to children, so individuals with this placement may have a nurturing and protective instinct toward their own children or those of their partner. They may prioritize creating a loving and supportive environment for their family.

spouse can have their natal moon in leo, 5th house, fire sign.

moon in 6th house: Their sense of emotional well-being may be closely tied to the environment in which they work and the people they interact with on a daily basis. This placement also suggests that the individual may seek partners who share similar values regarding work ethic, service, and daily routines. Additionally, the Moon in the 6th house of the Juno persona chart may indicate that the individual's emotional state can be influenced by their health and overall well-being. They may need to maintain a balanced and healthy lifestyle in order to feel emotionally stable and fulfilled. this placement is a healer, their doings are a work of art and the couple instantly heal each others vibe. this placement has lots of compassion, devotion and empathy.

spouse can have their natal moon in virgo, 6th house, earth sign.

moon in 7th house: emotional balance is important to this placement, the couples emotions can be a projection of one another. this can lead to often getting on each others nerves. like the dramatic arguments that married couples have but make up like after 5 minutes that you see in rom coms. there may be lots of reactions and feedback from your partner when you show your emotional side to them. this placement reminds me of when one person starts crying the other starts crying as well, so you feel and experience the same thing together. there is also lots of freedom on expressing your inner feelings to your partner. overall this is a beautiful placement as your partner is the one to find your emotions beautiful and can just find your flaws mesmerising.

spouse can have their natal moon in libra, 7th house, air sign.

moon in 8th house: this placements duty is to keep the stability of the relationship strong. they may feel like there needs to be certain rules and regulations when it comes to emotions between the marriage. however, feelings and emotions are DEEP and STRONG for one another. so big that it can lead to control. both parties can become a therapist for one another, giving advice on problems, listening very attentively and most importantly giving great advice. talking about the occult and eery topics can cause some sort of comfort to each other. also trauma dumping is big for this placement. like sharing the deepest and most secretive occurrences can occur due to each other trusting one another very well and feeling the need to tell the other what they had been storing forever.

spouse can have their natal moon in scorpio, 8th house, water sign.

moon in 9th house: for this placement, travelling and taking time off from society is very healing for this relationship. constantly learning each others way of dealing with emotions and exploring each others ways of dealing with them is something common here. humour can be something that connects both parties especially when one is feeling down, making each other laugh is healing. comedy and mass media can bring comfort to both parties, being goofy and joking around is common for this placement. spirituality and mindfulness can connect the couple and can bring comfort in the relationship. perhaps its a belief or daily ritual that connects both parties.

spouse can have their natal moon in sagittarius, 9th house, fire sign.

moon in 10th house: this placement like to lead when dealing with their partners emotions. they like to control how the other is feeling and how they feel as well, this may manifest one to not express their emotions for no one which creates this poker face persona. this placement can get very stressed and constantly worry about the financial situations in the relationship however, will most likely keep it to themselves and hardly address the situation and figure it by themselves. emotions within the marriage is controlled when in public. however, your other half's achievements and success can make you feel very happy and it may feel like you succeeded as well.

spouse can have their natal moon in capricorn, 10th house, earth sign.

moon in 11th house: this placement may seek independence in their relationship. this placement feels deeply and is empathetic for those around them, this just reminds me of someone attentively and actively listening to you when you share your emotions to them. this is quite a social attached placement so bonding over friends, acquaintances, social media is common with this placement. they feel like they need to have a social life outside their marriage to find balance between the two. each party sees the beauty in each others emotional state and can make them love them even more or be attracted to them mor after seeing their emotional side. sharing aspirations to one another is a positive aspect to this placement as it can lighten up the mood of each other by feeling proud of each other and overall hyping one another up.

spouse can have their natal moon in aquarius, 11th house, air sign.

moon in 12th house: the relationship may strengthen whenever the couple gives one another space and time to themselves. (i see lots of marriages that each has their own rooms in order to give each other enough space to allow themselves to function properly). however, this placement can cause addictions due to being in a negative state while being in the relationship. nevertheless, couples bond better when they are alone and in peace. mentally, it can feel like your partner is not even there at times (they can isolate or just keep their distance from you) and it may keep you second guessing. there is also high expectations that this placement may have of their partner which can cause disappointments.

spouse can have their natal moon in pisces, 12th house, water sign.

thank you for your time, have a lovely day.

#astro observations #astrology community #astro notes #astro placements #astrology #astrology observations #astro community #astro tumblr #moon #moon astrology #houses in astrology #juno astrology #persona chart #juno persona chart

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indecisivemuch · 3 months

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Flatline

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: A certain hospital equipment exposed Luke's feelings for you (funny, fluff, friends to lovers, banter dynamic, minor injuries, happy ending).

Note: I’m sorry if this is not as good as my other works, writers block + being sick has been killing me.

Word count: 2.7k

It was somewhat strange at first to see Luke in normal clothing rather than that bright orange camp shirt that you’ve grown so familiar with. But after spending four days outside of camp and on a quest together, you’ve actually somewhat grown fond of the sight. You could still vividly remember the moment he picked you as his quest companion without an ounce of hesitation. It wasn’t surprising, considering you two have always made a good team, a likely result of training with each other for three years straight. Nevertheless, it warmed your heart that you were his first pick.

“Are you okay?” You asked inspecting Luke's wound as he sat against a tree and sighed in relief when you realized the cut was not too deep.

Just a couple of minutes back, you two were walking through the forest and on your way to the nearest bus stop that could take you back to camp. However, the universe must have thought the long journey was not enough of suffering because somehow, you two came across a chimera that managed to claw your arm and Luke in the abdomen.

“It’s not too bad. I think we can still make it to the last bus if we just quickly wrap your wounds up,” you noted.

Meanwhile, all Luke could do was watch you. He knew he should be listening, but how could he when you were so attentive to him at that moment? He hungrily took in the way you were taking care of him in such a worried manner as if you were his personal guardian angel. Part of him wanted to soothe your worries, but he selfishly wanted to enjoy it this time because it was for him.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” you asked when you didn’t hear a reply. You turned towards Luke, but was quickly caught off guard.

There was something sincere and sweet about the way he was staring at you. However, somewhere along three years of knowing him, you have concluded that Luke Castellan must have made it one of his life missions to annoy you because he has never passed up on any opportunities for flirty antics just to see you grow flustered. Hence, you ignored how he was gazing at you, though you scowled at yourself internally upon feeling your cheeks warm up.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you forced out.

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Luke almost chuckled at how you started blushing from just the way he was watching you. Oh, if only you knew. Luke loved getting your attention on him. He would snatch up any chance just to have your eyes on him or to have you care for him. The boy loved just seeing you blush over his little teasings. It was also fascinating to him how you never realized the true intentions behind his actions. Luke knew that half the camp probably knew that he was absolutely dotted on you from the way he was acting like a five-year-old boy chasing after his crush. Though, you always deemed his words and gestures as playful and jokes rather than genuine.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. However, the cheeky grin on his face told you otherwise, and you hit his arm in retaliation. “Ouch, is that the way to treat an injured person?” Luke joked.

“You’re barely injured. The wound is not even that deep.”

“Well…surely, if it’s not that bad, you can just kiss it better, right?” Your cheeks tinted a more evident shade of pink at his words, and you let out a deep sigh before giving Luke a playful glare. He only smirked at this, and Gods, you found that annoying yet endearing at the same time. Meanwhile, the boy was proudly relishing the idea that he was the cause of the blush that was adorning your cheeks.

“Okay, I say, let’s find somewhere safer, and then I’ll disinfect and wrap your wound up, yeah?” You suggested, purposefully deciding to ignore Luke’s previous words.

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke breathed out.

However, before you could help Luke up and relocate, two hikers spotted the both of you. It was a middle-aged married couple, and you slightly cursed under your breath. As you predicted, they started panicking at the sight of Luke’s bleeding wound and asked if you both needed help.

“Oh no, we’re fine,” you tried saying, though you could see the husband already calling 911. “Seriously, we have this handled,” you tried to reassure them, reaching out to the husband so he’d put the phone down, but the wife touched one of your shoulders.

“How did this happen?” the over-caring strangers asked.

“It was…a bear,” you settled on saying, grimacing when you realized you were less convincing than you wanted. You hoped the woman would not ask for further elaborations because that would require the impromptu level you were not ready to play at.

“The ambulance should be here soon,” the husband informed while keeping 911 on the line, and you abruptly turned to him. Now, your mind started panicking. You two were meant to keep a low profile.

“What? No, he’s really fine. It’s just a minor injury. Look! He’s practically like he always is. Right, Luke?” You turned back to Luke, hoping he’d attest to your words against these strangers. However, you were caught off-guard by the sight of him with his eyes closed instead. “Luke?” you called again, this time louder. Yet, you were met with the same response - utter silence.

Then came the sound of sirens, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on a chair next to a hospital bed where Luke was lying still. You’ve been sitting there for two hours, calmly waiting for the boy to wake up after recovering from the initial panic over the thought of something seriously wrong with him. The only noise in the room was from the ticking clock on the opposite wall to you, as well as the occasional sound of magazine pages being turned.

“Y-Y/N…?” The quiet sound of Luke calling out your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up from the magazine in your hand. “Where are we?”

“The hospital,” you answered promptly. You watched as the Hermes cabin counselor looked down at the item in your hand, then back up at your face again.

“Well, you seem awfully calm. Not even worried at all about me?” You almost chuckled at his words, slightly in disbelief that even after getting knocked out, Luke somehow still had the energy to joke.

“Nah, the doctor told me you were going to be fine. Apparently, it was the mild concussion from knocking your head against the tree that made you pass out. Said you’d be up in like three hours or so.” Luke nodded as he remembered the chimera shoving him, causing him to bash his head against a tree. The boy sat up on the hospital bed, and you helped him by adjusting his pillow so he could lean against it.

“So you would have cared otherwise?” He gave you a teasing grin. Things like that had you thinking sometimes if he was just being playfully flirty or if he meant more. Luke does not seem to do this with anybody else at camp. But once again, you ruled out the theory of him having feelings for you in that way.

“Only because I would not have anybody else to harass if you die,” You poured Luke a glass of water and handed it to him. He only smiled at your witty reply and took a sip of water. However, you took the opportunity to be honest, just so he’d at least know that you do care about him, despite the sarcastic remarks before.

“On a serious note, though… I’m glad you’re okay, Luke,” you sent Luke a sweet smile. Though there it was again — that look. However, for some reason, he didn’t whip up a clever, flirty line to joke around, which made you wonder what was on his mind.

Meanwhile, Luke felt as if his lungs had lost half its capacity. Gods, under the moonlight, you looked ethereal. It made him wonder for a second whether he was in a coma because you felt too good to exist in this ever-so-cruel world. Don’t even get him started on the way you were smiling at him, so sweet like caramel that his eyes were tracing to forever remember. He internally sighed, wondering how many more signs must he give out before you would get that he was genuinely interested in you.

You misinterpreted Luke’s look as one of vulnerability. Your brain theorized that maybe he was shaken from the chimera attack, so you slowly but surely grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. However, you didn’t notice the slight hitch in Luke’s breath as soon as you did this. His eyes almost fluttered shut at how nice it was to have your hand around his. If he could hold your hand every day, he absolutely would. You started rubbing your thumb on his knuckles as well. Oh, to be somebody you found worth worrying about and caring for. Luke thought maybe he did win the lottery after all. He could feel his heart wanting to crack his ribcage open to jump out of—

Unexpectedly, you heard a sudden continuous beeping from one of the equipment nearby and looked at it. Luke followed your gaze, and his face immediately started flushing over the drastic change in the heart monitor’s graphic representation of his heartbeat. The beeping still continued when you looked back at him with evident concern on your face.

“Woah, are you alright?” Luke tried muttering an affirmative answer but froze when you leaned closer and lightly graced his forehead with your hand. The boy gulped while you were cluelessly trying to see if he was coming down with a fever or not — which you assumed he was due to the way his face seemed to have warmed up. However, you were greeted with a normal body temperature and the sound of the heart monitor beeping even faster.

Suddenly, everything clicked. You cast your gaze on Luke again, tilting your head in amusement.

“Am I making you flustered?” Luke’s cheeks flared even more at your words. The Hermes cabin counselor looked away from you, taking his hand out of yours now as he attempted to slow down his heartbeat. However, you immediately took hold of his face and moved it back towards you. A mischievous grin grew on your face as you took in Luke’s blushing. How could you pass up the opportunity to finally torment him and get him flustered, especially when he has been doing the same thing to you for the past years?

Luke watched as you had him wrapped around your fingers both figuratively and literally, smirking as if you knew you had entire control over him. But he knew you only knew the surface level of it because even he doesn’t know the extent to which he would go for you. The only thing he knew was that he was in deep, deep trouble. He knew whatever part of him that was logical would perish as soon as you let him be yours. Yet he did not seem to mind discarding all his senses and submitting to whatever these feelings were.

“Careful there, Castellan, keep looking at me like that, and I might just have to believe you’re secretly obsessed with me.” You were only joking, but the way his eyes fluttered when you said that made you gulp.

“And what if I tell you I am?” At his words and the sound of his heartbeat speeding up on the heart monitor, you froze.

It was as if all the clues had come crashing down at once. It finally sunk in for you that perhaps you were wrong this whole time for thinking Luke was not into you. Because now, this hospital room had somehow become a crime scene filled with evidence of his feelings for you - the way he was intensely looking at you with dilated pupils, the uncontrollable speed of his heartbeat that you could feel where your fingers lay near his neck and pulse point, his shallow and nervous breathing, the beeping sound from the heart monitor that would make others think it has gone haywire, and most of all, the earnest and resigned look on his face as if he had already embraced the fact that his feelings for you would not change whether or not they would be reciprocated.

Your hand left his face to brush his dark curls. Your eyes cast down at his lips quickly before looking back up. You noticed the yearning in his eyes and how he copied your actions.

“...Can I?” Luke uttered breathlessly as if all the air in his lungs had been replaced with pure, relentless wanting. Even as a victim of heavy longing and subjected to desire, Luke still awaited the green light. His eyebrows slightly scrunched as if silently asking for permission, and you knew exactly what he wanted when he glanced down at your lips again.

One tiny nod from you, and he pulled you in. His hands delicately held the sides of your face as your lips clashed. Almost instantly, Luke felt as if he might flatline soon from the way your kiss was seemingly sending him into a cardiac arrest. He practically melted as you giggled into the kiss when the heart monitor started beeping even more frequently, indicating Luke’s increasingly erratic heartbeat. Something about this moment felt so urgent yet endearing like a long-awaited wish come true.

Slowly but surely, he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you up onto his hospital bed effortlessly, as if desperately needing you to just be closer to him. You both somewhat laughed at this before you wrapped both arms around his shoulders without breaking the kiss.

One of your hands started playing with his hair. You were not sure why but you pulled it and almost instantly, Luke had to break away from the kiss as a raspy groan escaped his lips. Your other hand on the side of his face and neck could feel the way it echoed as a hum in his throat, and you gulped at your effect on him.

Luke licked his lips as he stared at you again. He came to the conclusion that after that kiss, you were wrong that he was obsessed with you. Instead, he was everything above that - devoted, fervently fixated, infatuated, an addict who shamelessly wanted and needed you. Gods, maybe he was a madman when it came to you.

Your eyes flickered to the clock nearby and noticed it was 4:41am, realizing there was just enough time for the two of you to leave the hospital and catch the next bus back to camp. That prompted you to whisper, “I think we should leave now. If we do, we’ll be on time for the next bus.” Luke groaned at your words while you hopped off the hospital bed and grabbed your jacket. The boy unhooked himself from the heart monitor, though his eyes lingered on it for a bit while a smile grew on his face.

“Why the rush?” He asked, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door for you.

“Cause as lovely as that was, I don’t want to make out again in a hospital,” Luke froze before grinning at your words.

“Oh, does that mean it might happen again? Us making out?” He asked, watching as a cheeky smile grew on your face despite you opting to just shrug at his question. You fanned your hand out before him, smiling even more when he put his hand in yours.

With that, you led him out of the hospital hand in hand while he grinned like a fool behind you.

Honestly, Luke would blindly go anywhere you lead him.

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astrobydalia · 5 months

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🪐 Astro Observations!!!✨

Happy 2024 babes! Here’s to another year sharing astrology stuff with all of you 🤩

work by astrobydalia

Yes water moons have great intuition and could be psychic but I very often notice they tend to allow their personal feelings interfere with their decisions and could tend to not follow their intuition as much. The ones that have a more reliable or unbiased intuition imo are Earth moons and Aquarius moon.

Scorpio Venus really do gravitate to unhealthy relationships… All their connections tend to have unfair or imbalanced dynamics to them where there’s no equal give and take. They believe love means throwing yourself and your life away for another person (or they expect someone to give everything away for them) with little to nothing in return. They may not understand the difference between deep intimacy and unhealthy attachment

Libra placements and their ability to appear likable even when they have the shittiest personality deep down

In my opinion Moon is the most important planet if you really wanna begin to know someone at their core. Ultimately no planet can give you full info without the context of the whole chart tho (#AllPlanetsMatter), but you can really uncarcarve sm about someone just by moon placement/aspects/degree, etc. Moon rules your needs and so it really cements your personality and its an energy that you'll project in so many areas of your life (relationships, career, etc)

Fixed Mars are ARGUMENTATIVE fr fr. They need to have the last word and will die on that hill if they have to💀Honorable mention: Virgo/Gemini Mars due to Mercury influence but they’re more about friendly banter and aren’t as stubborn

80% of Aries Moons I've met were very philosophical/spiritual/religious. They can develop a self-awareness that gives them a lot of wisdom. The other 20% were just adult toddlers and very egotistic...

Capricorn placements and their internalized elitism. They really do believe some people are better than others which is the shadow of Capricorn unfortunately

Aquarius Moons are some of the most traumatized people I know fr fr. Whenever I get to know their life and backstory Im always like bro….😶😶 It makes me so sad cause they always bring such good vibes everywhere (they have a playful aura) when in reality there’s a depth of pain underneath you wouldn’t even fathom through that unbothered persona. The OG misunderstood.

We all know Scorpio is all about depth, intensity and looking beyond the surface but I’ve very often observed the exact opposite in scorpio placements. They could tend to be very superficial, greedy and materialistic, more obsessed with wealth and status than any earth placement (it all comes down to power). In such cases their interest in occult or deep topics could also be superficial or opportunistic, like they only see it as something that could give them a leg up in life or help them avoid unseen threats but that's about it.

Cancer Risings do not come across as sensitive at all. They tend to have a rather sassy personality and are pretty defensive 90% of the time tbh. Think about it, are crabs 🦀 cute and cuddly? No, you actually actually have to be very careful around one cause they sting lol. They do wear their heart on their sleeves and are very sensitive and perceptive but because of this they constantly feel like their vulnerability is out for everyone to see hence the guarded attitude.

^I've also noticed they are VERY opinionated and will hold on very tightly to how they think/feel about something. This results in having a reputation for being kinda bold and sharp (Aries 10th). Pro tip: do NOT question these native's morals or integrity unless you wanna see a very snappy side to them, they respond very very very badly if you even insinuate that they might be hypocritical in their values/what matters to them

The interpretation that Aquarius in the 4th house means you’re an outcasted black sheep in the family low-key doesn’t make sense to me tbh. Aquarius is the sign of camaraderie, friendship, inclusivity and community. All the people that I’ve seen with this placement were actually very bonded to their roots and considered their family (and the people they bonded with during childhood) to be "their people" (they also keep their friends close to heart). These natives do tend to distinct themselves as they grow up but this is due to Leo 10th house. I've noticed their family is in general very supportive of them or at the very least they received some input in their upbringing that made them feel special and/or like their uniqueness was celebrated. Feel free to share your opinion/experience tho

I've noticed Virgo Mars people have a perfect balance between being confident in themselves and fulling trusting their abilities while also staying humble and acknowledge room for improvement. Very mature and self-accountable and they're also great people to work with cause they are highly appreciative of good contribution

Sagittarius placements and their ability to be casually rude in a charming way??? 😭

Moon in the 10th house do not have a reputation for being emotional at all, it's quite the opposite they dislike exposing their feelings like that. A lot of their energy is spent trying to appear put-together and emotionally stable. The ones I've noticed have a reputation for being moody or sensitive are Mars in the 10th house

Venus-Moon aspects probably grew up in an environment that fed up this idea they had to be beautiful and conventionally likable in order to be worthy of love. These natives tend to base their self-worth on the amount of emotional validation they get from others and struggle telling the difference between kindness and love

A couple notes on everyone’s fave topic: 8th house synastry

We all know this overlay deals with power dynamics. On a general basis I’ve noticed it’s the planet person who tends to have the upper hand. Exeption: Moon. When your moon falls in someone’s 8th house you tend to be vulnerable one due to the soft nature of this planet, but the house person secretly feels more intimidated

You will NAWT be able to keep secrets from someone you have 8th house synastry with specially if you’re the house person. Sooner or later they’ll see through you, circumstances might force you to expose yourself or you’ll simply feel drawn to revealing the truth to them. With water synastry in general you will feel drawn to share more deep or hidden parts of yourself/your life but with the 8th house you can’t help it, like there’s almost an accusatory tension between the two that grows the more you try to hide something from them

Something I see no one mentioning about 8th house synastry is the planet person always feels intimidated by the house person's success. The planet person will try to take part in the house person's success by taking some credit and have a sense of control over what belongs to the house person, it's giving Kanye's "I made that bitch famous". At best the planet person would want to help boost the house person's endeavors. Either way, when someone's planets land on your 8th house, you will never feel like something is completely yours anymore, somehow the planet person will "take" something away from you that you can't get back making you feel like you owe them or they owe you something big (8th house=debt), which is why this overlay very often goes south and tends to be very depleting.

If we're talking business (which 8th house deals with that) the house person is likely to take a risk on the planet person, invest on them (can be money, time, resources, trust, etc) in hopes that it'll pay off. The house person is most likely to loose something from their involvement with the planet person, but they can also gain a lot from the planet person if the investment pays off. In either case, one could tend to exploit the other if there’s any ill intent from the individual

Water mars people are very smothering in their affection tbh. Once you’ve been chosen, get ready to be bombarded by their attention a bit more each time. Secret stalker vibes.This doesn’t always mean they love you tho, if underdeveloped they may want to “bond” in order to have emotional control over you and use you. For them it’s easy to get what they want through manipulation so leading people on or fooling around is something they tend to do a lot

Going back to the affection topic, water venus are smothering too but they go about their obsession devotion in a much more soft and non-domineering way where they give a lot of power away to their partner

People with Gemini+Scorpio placements in their chart embody the mischievous trickster archetype fr fr. They’re funny but also a menace. Have an ease to become that type of deceitful manipulator who thrives in chaos

I have a theory that your Moon represents the kind of bond or relationship you have with your mother but Ceres represents how your mother actually is

Capricorn and Scorpio placements are huge tsunderes imo 😭

Chiron in Sagittarius/9th house have become disappointed with religious and/or academic institutions. For them both systems are essentially flawed and don't work or don't make sense

+When it comes to religion I've seen a lot of them being atheist and skeptics. Some others still believed in god/universe/etc. but they did not want to support any stablished religious institution and instead have preferred to craft their own belief system. In both cases, they saw the institutionalization of believe systems as something that hindered their freedom of thought and expansion

+When it comes to academics a very similar thing happens. They felt like collage and the educational system restricted their mind instead of expanding it so they just preferred to walk their own path and find growth elsewhere. A friend of mine with this placement quit collage and the other people I've seen who did finish it all said they had a kinda dreadful and/or unfulfilling collage experience which they low-key regret

If you’ve ever felt powerless in the house where you have your pluto, that’s because you gave your power away to the opposite house. For example, if you have Pluto in the 5th house and you felt powerless when it comes to expression, your creativity, etc that’s because you gave too much power to the public opinion/peer pressure (11th house) and what they may say about you if you express yourself genuinely

Scorpio Moons always battle with that "am I a good person?", "am I a monster deep down?" inner conflict. They are more in touch with darker emotions and experiences than the average person so for them it's particularly easy to channel their shadow. This can often make them doubt their own integrity or think they are doomed to never feel happiness and inner peace. This is moon's debilitation for a reason, their inner emotional world is ruled by chaos and turmoil and they tend to be a bit too comfortable (moon) in toxicity and drama, nothing is ever light-hearted for them. If developed this ability of staying in touch with the shadow side of things can actually give them lots of awareness and resilience for the darker sides of the world as well as a very solid moral compass and compassion

Leo Moons likely had grandiose standards forced on them that inflated their self-importance. It's giving "mommy told me I am the best and most special of all" which is great but now they be carrying that mindset for the rest of their lives and this is where lot of their infamous sensitivity and fragile ego comes from cause not fulfilling these standards deeply hurts their heart. In consequence they tend to be more unprepared to accept humbling experiences that'll make them mature

virgo risings are funny!!!! I haven't seen anyone mention this, but every virgo rising I've met cracked me UP, they are so witty and never misse a chance to throw in a cheeky joke every 2 minutes. I think this is overlooked because they keep a rather awkward demeanor to them which often makes for a rather dry delivery. Best examples of this are Ryan Raynolds, Keanue Reeves, Emma Watson, Cole Sprouse...

Also, all Virgo risings I've met tend to come across as huge snobs so it's very common that people don't take their humor or friendliness seriously

Honestly I've noticed this theme with Virgo/6th house inner placements in general where their judgemental nature always makes them unfriendly or snarky to some degree. They can be the kind of people who are never happy with anything and always have a bone to pick.

My main theory as to why Leo risings are the most shy out of all Leo placements is because a lot of them grew up in very problematic and dysfunctional families (Scorpio 4th house) where they were shamed for showing vulnerability or being genuine (Cancer 12th house)

I’ve noticed Aries Suns and Capricorn Suns tend to relate a lot to their fathers, they tend to have very similar character traits as their fathers. For good or for bad their relationship with their father is always very important in their personality.

I find that LEO Suns and Sagittarius Suns always be having daddy issues tho like 😭😭😭😭

One thing about Capricorn is they can be literal billionaires and yet will still refuse to spend a dime on something they think is not worth it

Mutable Moons don’t commit 10000% to things, they’re the type to always have a foot out just in case. They're most likely to commit to things if they don't feel forced or expected to stay permanently

Cardinal energy is very consistent and responsable. People with prominent cardinal placements have a really developed sense of agency, focus and direction (imo this will be more obvious with moon, mars and asc). There's something about them that always gives me this put together "I've got this" kinda vibe, they always seem like they've got it together and always know what to do even when they're lost.

Fixed mercuries and their inability to understand or accept that two different points can be true

Sun/Leo in the 3rd house could want to have a nice car, an expensive or luxurious car from a well-known brand

I’ve seen people saying Venus-Mars conjunction gives it girl vibes. This is also HIGHLY true for Mars-ruled Venus (Aries/Scorpio Venus) or Venus-ruled Mars (Libra/Taurus Mars)

work by astrobydalia

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia

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wandasfifthwife · 2 months

Text

good girl ₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

—wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || SMUT MDNI, discussion on kinks/titles/roles (but not detailed), exhibition & choking kink mentioned, dom/sub dynamic, dom!wandanat & sub!reader, top!wandanat & bottom!reader, R gets needy from a wet dream, oral&fingering (r receiving | n giving), reader is described to be wearing a nightgown, reader is described to be shy, not proofread

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference

— 🌷masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 3.0k words₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part🌻 —

A buzz raps against your bedside table, the sound officially pulling you out of your morning stir. With bleary eyes, you reach across the bed to pull your phone off the charger. The movement brings you out of the warmth and comfort your sheets provide, hence making you shiver once your arm hits the cold air surrounding your room.

After pulling the phone under the covers you shut the alarm off, unlocking it to view the notifications sent since you’ve fallen asleep.

The door creeks open, whoever opening it trying to be quiet but the door’s old age didn’t allow them to do so. Your roommate peeks her head in, eyes landing on your curled position in bed.

“My word it’s freezing in here,” she starts, moving out of the doorframe to check the thermostat, “if I woke you up, I am so sorry—I was going to call maintenance to check in on your room, wanted to come see if it was still freezing.”

As if on cue you shiver again, pulling the blanket higher until it brushes your chin, “it is.”

A grim expression comes into her face, she apologizes again, “I’ll call them now. They should be here tonight.”

You voice your appreciation, staying under the sheets until the numbers on your clock read noon. It was a lazy morning, all movements were slow and relaxed. The shower was turned until steam came off the top, the burning feeling decidedly better than the chill running throughout your entire body.

There were plans written on your phone’s calendar, the moment tonight a result from the events from the previous week. There had been more plans since three first meeting at the cafe, each moment spent together better than the last. Since the cafe, they’ve met you wherever it was that you’d like.

Whether it be at a bookstore, where the two whispered reassurances over your fretting on them paying for your books. Even at times when you three had colliding schedules they still made an effort, it showed in how they took a walk with you by the water. The ocean was rough, waves crashing and pushing against another, but the sound it made was entirely peaceful. You remember where your walk ended, where you three stopped so you could watch the water stretch and collide with the orange and pink sky.

“Beautiful.”

Wanda had whispered close to your ear, body leaned so close to yours, chest pushed up against your back. You had welcomed the advances from her, letting the motion also push you into Natasha until you three were cuddled up together. It brought a smile to your face to experience such a moment. It was when you decided it was best to share the news about signing off of the paper work on Tuesday. This all transpired a day ago on Sunday, meaning that discussion was happening tonight.

Remembering that this event is what you were getting ready for brought a multitude of emotions to run about. Any word within the synonym group to embarrassed and excitement would be hitting the mark on what you were feeling.

You’ve been keeping your friend in the loop, sending her text updates often and feeling thankful for her support. Shes aware of what’s transpiring tonight, her contact information appearing in your phone as you were finishing getting ready.

“You know, your mind doesn’t really know the difference between fear and excitement. So I suggest convincing yourself that you’re only excited.”

“I think I’d only be successful in telling it how scared I am,” you say as you shut your drawer, “because I really can only see how this will affect me negatively.”

“Expand on that.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as you throw on a shirt, “I mean, we’re going to be talking about what I’m interested in doing intimately. What if they find me weird, or they don’t want to do what I’d like to do and get rid of me?”

“First I’ll say that all you’re feeling is valid. Second, you’re being too harsh on yourself. This past week you’ve been getting to know each other, and going off of how you’ve been rambling to me after, I’d say they’re going well. Let tonight play out, be in the moment.”

You hum your response, sitting beside your phone to slip your shoes on, “okay.”

“I’ve known them like what—like two years now? They’re going to work with you, not against you. But if at any point you feel uncomfortable, you’re always free to leave whenever and call me, or security. Your wellbeing comes first.”

“Thank you, seriously.”

Three beeping sounds emit after, your lock screen appearing. There were four numbers glaring back at you, eliciting a response to start walking towards their apartment complex.

The map on your phone was confusing, stating that their location was to the left of you when it was across the street.

Natasha stood at the entrance, holding the door for you to step in. The inside was simple, light blue wallpaper lining the walls. You’ve become awkward, the feeling instigate by the nerves spiking being along with her. She lets you go through the second door first after unlocking it, letting the heavier door swing close behind her, “How was your walk?“

“Cold. It’s rather chilly today.”

Natasha walks in front to lead you up the staircase, “not a fan of the cold?”

“No, I much prefer the 70s, the mix between cold and hot.”

Three staircases later and the numbers 302 are staring back at you. Their door has a wreath outside, one decorated with red florals. Wanda comes to greet the door, letting the both of you in, even moving to hang your coat.

“Glad you got here safely,” she starts, “it gets dark so soon now that we’re rolling into winter.”

You’re entirely too thankful that they’ve begun to tell you where you can go and what you can do. They’ve opened up their home to you, but even then you weren’t sure if it was okay to sit down on the couch yet.

“Would you like a drink? I have water, tea?”

“Oh that’s alright, I’ll be fine.”

She pats your shoulder, “it’s alright if you’d like one, I’m offering.”

“Tea?”

She smiles, moving into the kitchen after. Natasha had sat across from you on another couch, laptop settled on her lap. It gave you a moment to look around, to take in their home for the first time. It was a combination of clean and messy. They had papers thrown over the cushioned footrest, shoes set carefully by the door. A pair of broken glasses were set on the tv mantle, and a tall vase beside it with tulips. Wanda comes in, setting the hot cup on the table in front of you.

“Do you like the flowers,” she asks, noticing where your gaze was transfixed, “natasha got them from a coworker.”

“Any specific reason?”

Natasha looks up from her laptop momentarily, meeting Wanda’s gaze. She speaks up, “I got asked out.”

“Oh,” you say, “at least you got nice flowers.”

Wanda laughs at the way Natasha squirms, “yeah, nice flowers. Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, waving her off. She leaves again momentarily, the item appearing in her hand that makes you nervous again. The papers.

It was a conversation you wanted to have, you all wanted to have, but the discussion of such intimate acts felt more embarrassing than acting them out. They notice the way you’ve begun to look away, focus set outside the window.

You notice Natasha setting her MacBook away in your peripheral vision.

“Kitten,” Natasha starts, the new nickname rolling off of her lips instantly catching your attention, “are you okay with that?”

You appreciate her asking, the way her tone went soft after witnessing your reaction. It wasn’t unpleasant, it held the complete opposite reaction. The action of you nodding yet again has her speaking up, “words.”

“Yes, that’s okay.”

Natasha smiles at you, the sight easing your nerves. Wanda’s knee lands on the edge of the couch, leaning her body onto it until she’s sitting down.

“You sent these to us a day ago and we’ve reviewed it all, signed our parts as well. We’ll have those papers in my office if you ever want or need to view them while you’re over here,” she explains, setting a few pages down, “how’re you feeling about the next few?”

“Good, shy.”

“That’s alright. Tell if if you need to stop, okay?”

She’s begun to list them off, each one bringing a tinge of red to your cheeks. Your hand has come to fidget with your necklace, agreeing with the statements Wanda was reading off.

“It’s quite funny how most everything lines up with our responses.”

“Really?”

She hums, handing the papers over to Natasha, “you’re interested in all of the kinks we’re interested in, like your exhibition and choking one.”

“Wow,” you say, fingers tugging at your necklace, pulling it until the chain can’t be moved any further out.

“Did that make you nervous just now?”

Natasha asks, noticing the habit of fidgeting with a necklace arising any time a difficult situation arose. You let go of it, moving to hold the warm glass, the scent of the chamomile tea rushing to you.

“It did, but that’s only because I don’t like direct conversations. I’m better when things play out and you’re lost in the moment, but I understand this needs to be talked about.”

“We can call it a night then. If you’d like you can stay over, whatever you’d like. Please let us order an Uber though if you decide to go home, Natasha was having a fit about you walking home the other day.”

Wanda throws a look at Natasha, pressing a kiss to your head as she walks by. Natasha takes the jab, grabbing at her computer again, “and I won’t apologize for that.“

“If I were to stay tonight, where would I sleep?”

“With us,” Wanda says from the other room, “you’re not sleeping on these couches and certainly not the ground—unless you’d like to.”

“Could I stay over then?”

Wanda laughs, “you’re so sweet, of course you can. You can borrow either of our clothes, world knows how uncomfortable it is to sleep in jeans.”

Natasha shows you to the bathroom, clicking on the light so she can set the pajamas you had picked out on the counter. It was small, but larger than the one you had back with your roommates. It smelled like them, their scents overwhelming your senses when you walked in.

“The shower handles weird to use, so I’ll start that for you. I’ll leave the door unlocked just in case, okay?”

The knobs were weird. There were three of them, one for hot water, cold water, and the third to turn the pressure to come from the lower or higher nozzle. You’re thankful for her to figure it out, setting it where it was perfect. The first temperature was entirely too cold, apparently the temperature Natasha showers with in the morning.

She let you be, shutting the door and leaving you alone. All the options you had for soap were theirs. The bottles read “vanilla,” explaining why their scent was sweet. You shivered when the cold air hit, missing the warmth the water provided. The nightgown you chose was comfortable, the silk fabric to blame for that.

Wanda was still in the living room, a lamp on beside her. The room beside her had the light turned on, rustling coming from inside.

“Could you help me?”

“With what?”

“I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the shower, I’m sorry.”

Wanda sets the book down, moving past you, “you’re too kind, don’t worry about that. You can wait with Natasha, she’s already in the room.”

You assume the room with the light on is their bedroom. Natasha was leaning on the side, feet kicked off the side of the bed. She closed the drawer, sitting further back on the bed. You grow nervous again, standing in the doorway awkwardly.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“When will of it will start?”

“Whenever you’d like it to.”

A deep breath comes from you, your finger playing with the edge of your dress, “could we start tonight?”

“What’d you say? Speak a bit louder.”

“Could we start tonight? Start small?”

Her body relaxes, gesturing for you to come closer. There’s a slight tickling sensation as her hand brushes against the back of your thigh, lifting you to straddle her waist.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just relax and only speak if we ask you.”

It’s not difficult to listen to her when her hand brushes against your back in such a manner. Wanda wonders in later, taking to Natasha about something but it all became background noise. It almost lulls you to sleep, your mind on the cusp of falling into the dream world until Natasha had patted your leg.

“We’re turning the lights off, can you lay down for me?”

You rest between them, your back against Natasha’s. Wanda faces you, her hands brushing gently against your cheek. It only took a second for Natasha to begin snoring, her deep breaths hitting your back, making you scoot closer into Wanda.

“She bothering you? If we need to, I can make her sleep on the couch.”

“Oh no that’s alright, I like her here.”

Wanda smiles, leaning to press a kiss to your lips, “me too. Now sleep, it’s late.”

You adjust, finding the most comfortable spot to be resting your face under hers.

𓂃𓂃𓂃•𓂃𓂃𓂃

It’s driving you crazy, feeling her hands rub all over you but not where you need it the most. She’s been kissing you breathlessly, all on purpose so she can hear your shaky gasps of air.

“Please,” you beg, pushing your hips up, “touch me.”

“Where?”

You grab her hand, leaving it resting over your clothed cunt, “here please, I need it so bad.”

Her fingers push your underwear aside, not giving you any warning as she pushes one in, “you’re soaked.”

A whine tumbles from you, hands gripping tighter onto her wrist, “more, not enough.”

She listens, pressing another in, the stretch making you whine louder. You beg each time, grinding down onto her fingers. Each thrust pulling a, ‘more,’ from you, stating how you can take it.

“Does it feel good, kitten? You’re gripping my fingers.”

“Kitten?”

You gasp, eyes shooting open to find Natasha above you. She’s leaning over, using her hand by your head to balance herself. Her other hand was on your shoulder, presumably used to shake you awake.

“Are you alright? You were mumbling and moving around, I wanted to make sure you weren’t having a bad—“

“Touch me.”

“What.”

You clamber back, twisting your body away from hers, “nevermind.”

“No, tell me what you just said.”

“Touch me.”

It was quieter than the first time you said it but Natasha heard it.

“Remember the safe word colors we talked about, I want you to use those, okay?”

Her fingers hold your chin, moving you so you make eye contact with her, “use your words and look me in the eyes.”

“Okay,” you say, voice airy.

The moment she’s leaning down to kiss you, you’re reaching for more. She’s meeting you where you’re at, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. The sounds you make drive her crazy, they’re intoxicating. Her lips move down to your neck, biting at your collarbones to make you gasp.

“Hnn-!”

“Such a needy little thing,” she mouths, pulling your dress down to press a kiss to your nipple, “who knew you’d be so adorable.”

It’s the bare minimum and almost unreasonable for you to be so weak from it, but it’s her. The reason why you’re so reactive and wanting is because you want to feel her touch.

“Oh Natasha please,” you whine, grinding your hips down onto her clothed thigh. Natasha eyes the movement, groaning when she sees the wet patch you’ve left behind.

“Call me by my name and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Daddy, please.”

Your back is pushed into the pillows when she lifts your hips to slide your underwear completely off. You move to take off the dress but she stops you, “leave it on, you look beautiful.”

You really do, and she wishes you could see what she does. The strap handing off your shoulder, the bottom of it pooled around your waist. You moan so loud Natasha worries the neighbors might hear when her tongue licks up your folds.

“Shh,” she presses a kiss to your inner thigh, “be quiet.”

You try, the hand over your mouth your best attempt at keeping quiet. It becomes difficult to with how good she eats you out that you have to bite down on your fist. She praises you, telling you how good you listen to her.

You keen when she presses a finger in, the size of her fingers spreading you more than your dream had. Her hands on gripping your thighs open, amused at how shaky they get once she’s begun to thrust her finger in.

“Ah—! Not enough, please I need more.”

She’s compliant, already pushing another in and oh her view was heavenly. Your back arching, hips pushing onto her fingers. It’s a sight that almost makes her moan. Her own thighs grow wet seeing how you’re squirming from her ministrations. The moment she’s pushing another in, you’re already begging her to

“Oh yes please, please.”

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive.“

Her fingers are rough, pushing against your walls and angling them in a way that drives you closer to the edge. Her name is tumbling from your lips repeatedly like it’s all you know what to say.

“Don’t come without asking me,” she warns.

“Please let me come,” you gasp.

“Please who?”

“Please daddy,” you moan into your hand, “I’ll be good for you.”

“I know. I know you will. Go ahead.”

Her mouth latches onto your clit again, the stimulation being what you needed to reach your high. You pant, lungs heaving to get in air after. A smile making its way onto your face when Natasha slides up the bed to kiss your forehead.

“You did so well.”

“She did,” Wanda agrees from her position by the door, “I’m so proud.”

— 🌷masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part🌻 —

@simpforlizzie @maggieromanov @angelbeingatitspurest @cerberus-spectre @olicity-boo @huggingkoalas @wandasbunnyy @babykingslayer @marigoldenblooms @godhatesgoodgirls @evmaximoff @tobiaslut @lzzysfreak @caporaI-nino @mommysfavouritegirl @gemz5 @dorabledewdroop @foxherder @madamevirgo @natashaswife4125 @peaceitsnaee @radcherryblossompainter @sagesayshi

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misty-caligula · 1 year

Text

Okay this is gonna be long, but I’ve got a lot of ground to cover so please bear with me. In a real way, this is my series thesis.

I’ve said before, many times now (like a cycle) that for me the most important scene is ep 1 act 1 scene 1. There’s something There that I have been struggling to see clearly, struggling to articulate, and s2e9 really finally gave me the last pieces for it.

I think that Pit Girl is the point of the entire story. But not in the way that I thought going in. I feel like I’m rambling, so I’m going to try to structure my thoughts.

Imagine you’re a new viewer. You haven’t watched yj start to finish 30 times, you’ve never even buzzed before. You turn on the tv and the FIRST thing that happens is you see ... brutality. A half dressed girl chased through the freezing woods, murdered without a chance. They drag her through the snow, string her up, pour her blood on the ground. Hack her into unrecognisable chunks. Sit around in scary outfits and rip at her, with a huge focus on the teeth, as horror music plays. Then, Misty takes off her mask, puts on her glasses, and does the worst possible thing. She smiles. Directly at you.

Again, forget everything you know and go on vibes. You’re seeing the teens pre-crash, and you’re seeing them in the third timeline, fully formed, with horror motifs and covered in fur. You’d be mistaken for thinking that you were seeing start and end. Except that... we know, and you know, that Pit Girl is the middle. These monsters somehow came back from this. How? When they’re so so so far gone?

Hence the show. I know I’m not breaking new ground here, but bear with me. I’m going somewhere.

(Edit: Readmore added because honestly, LONG post)

You’d be forgiven, fresh-faced new viewer, for thinking you were watching some kind of gross-out slasher. But what happens in S1? Restraint. Laura Lee, the first non-crash victim dies at the end of episode eight. Jackie end of ep 10. (For the sake of this thesis we’re going to be almost exclusively focused on the teens.)

And yet there’s this tonal shift, It’s like ... inevitability. Like watching a crack in a window that’s very slowly spreading. Everything is steadily Getting Worse. The weather is slowly getting colder, the days are getting darker, food’s getting scarcer, life is getting harder. But so much of this difficulty is coming from external events and pressure. Yes, cracks start to show in the internal relationship dynamics, of course, but if food was plentiful, if shrooms were less so, if the weather were better, then they could probably work out a very long term stable situation. Sadly for them, things are not stable, and the pressure is building.

Then Jackie dies and the glass gets a really big break.

It’s worth mentioning at this moment that Jackie at any time could’ve come the fuck inside. Safety and warmth and even love were available to her. All it would’ve required was for her not to be the centre of the world. To make actual goddamn concessions and join the team. Which is why she couldn’t possibly make that choice, because she had to be invited, she had to be apologised to, she had to be accommodated. She couldn’t see the rest of the ‘jackets as being people who just like her were in a really shitty situation. She saw them as being external, as being in cahoots against her, as being part of some Thing that she wasn’t in on. She couldn’t let go of the society they’d left, and she preferred to die. Which sure is a choice...

Keep all of that in mind though. We’re taught to blame Shauna for Jackie’s choices. Let’s stop with that. Jackie chose not to assimilate, she looked around the cabin at the team eating the bear and praying to the wilderness and instead of just paying lip service to fit in, like Tai, she decided to put her foot down and make a Thing of it. She decided that being Right was more important than being Included.

Seriously, keep that in mind, we’re coming back to it. Cycles, you know...

Season 2, everyone’s hungry and hey we have this spare Jackie lying around. And we joke like “ha, you gonna eat that?” Only...

No. They WEREN’T going to eat her.

Really think about that for a second. They put her in the meat shed. With the bear. Think about what that does, psychologically. Linguistically. The meat shed is made to store food. The bear has a word: carcass. Day after day after week after month they carve progressively more pathetic chunks from it, subsisting on what little it offers. In the EXACT same room, sitting right there is Jackie. Her body has a different name. Corpse. With many different connotations. At NO point does ANY of them raise the fact that they’ve taken their friend and added her to their meat stockpile.

Because they haven’t. Instead, they’ve added a new sub-room. The meat shed is now also a morgue. And nobody ever once had to say it. They got it. We got it. You got it. And while they starved and their bodies BEGGED for food, Jackie’s corpse lay there, frozen and fresh, and stubbornly refused to become a carcass, because they wouldn’t let it. They knew that there were more important things than meat, even when they were starving.

The bacchanal was a mistake. A literal error. It simply wasn’t planned, wasn’t meant to go down that way. Maybe if they HAD considered that route earlier and had a discussion about it they’d have been prepared, psychologically, maybe if they weren’t so starved. Who knows. But in the middle of the night they were offered a way out, and they took it.

But Shauna took it first.

Even in their state, even faced with an ideal roasted feast infront of them, they waited until Shauna said it was okay. Because Jackie was Shauna’s friend, and they knew that she was still a person. That this was still a corpse first. It was Shauna who was able to give them permission to survive. To turn a friend into a meal. It was not their place to take that step. To shoulder that guilt. So Shauna did it for them.

The next day they’re devastated. The heavy reality sets in, now the hunger is settled. And Jackie’s carcass is far too real, they can’t change her back into a corpse. Nat tries, bless her heart. But Tai’s screaming reaction at having eaten Jackie’s face is only an externalisation of the grief and horror and agony they’re all going through.

And after Jackie they starve again. Hope and heat and light dwindles further. Every single day they all take another step towards death. That’s what starvation is, it’s the same thing as dying, you die a little bit every day until you can’t die anymore.

Kristen falls. Misty doesn’t even consider that she might bring her back as meat. If she had’ve, she might think, maybe she’d be considered like ... heroic. It doesn’t even occur to her. She’s not going to LET those bitches eat her one and only friend, and she goes out of her way to protect her.

Shauna has her horror show birth. And, no matter WHAT the context is, she produces.... meat. In the most awful, brutal way. And while the fandom made so many jokes and stuff, the reality is that yes... at least to an extent there was real nutrients there. And it was never once even brought up as an option, by these desperate, starving girls.

When Coach tries to kill himself, here’s a ready source of willing meat. And Misty uses it as a threat to stop him. But it’s hollow, she’s just putting on fake fangs to try to keep him safe. She’s not actually that vicious thing that she’s pretending to be, just like she’s not actually homophobic.

When Lottie tells Misty to eat her if she dies, Misty fights her on it. Lottie has to insist. Then when she tells the rest of the team, they are so overwhelmed with the selflessness of the gesture that it inspires them to twist it into their first hunt. That’s what it takes. The hunt is an act of self-sacrifice and love.

And so we get to the hunt. The proto-pit-girl, we’ve come full circle and we start to learn all these answers to questions posed in act 1 scene 1. And they’re not the answers that were assumed.

How do they get to the point of eating each other? They sacrifice themselves willingly, for the sake of each other’s survival.

Why do they hunt the way they do? Because Shauna just can’t stand to murder a friend in cold blood, a friend she cares for and has no reason to hate.

Why the spike pit? Because it keeps the blood off their hands. Because it lets them blame It and preserve a tiny fragment of their innocence.

Why the weird symbols? The ritual itself? Because they need SOMETHING to hold onto, to make it all make sense.

Why so brutal? Is it? We THINK it’s brutal. It’s certainly bloody. But Pit Girl dies almost instantly. Her pain is over fast. She doesn’t have a good time going into it, obviously, none of them want to die. But she chose to run, she could’ve taken the knife instead. And the spike trap was efficient. Yes they drag her through the snow and string her up, but it’s mechanical and just part of the process and she’s dead already. Her pain is over fast, it’s not sadistic.

Why do they chop her up into chunks like that? Because nobody wants to eat her face. Because nobody wants to struggle with her humanity, they want her to look just like any other meat. So that they might be having deer or bear or ... friend. They’re eating because they are biological machines that need to eat, that NEED death to survive. They didn’t ask to be made the way they are, and they’re doing their best to cope. Shauna, probably blindly, takes on that responsibility, to transform their friend into unrecognisable meat to change a corpse into a carcass. She takes that pain for them, holds that sin for them, out of love. So they can eat, so they can survive.

What’s with the creepy horror masks? During the ritual they can’t handle being themselves. They create alternate versions of themselves to hold what must be done. The masks aren’t there to scare anyone, because there IS NO AUDIENCE. The masks are there to hide behind. That’s why Misty takes hers off at the end of the scene. The ritual is over and they can go back to being people again.

Why is Misty fucking Quigley in charge? Because she CAN be. Because she’s strong enough. If Lott/Nat/The AQ is the goddess/queen, Misty is the priestess/handmaiden, tasked with actually carrying out her orders. She interprets the queens words when she’s too weak, she provides counsel when she needs it, she tells the team what they need to hear in the moment, she gives out the micromanagement. Misty’s the power behind the throne, because when she says she’ll do something she fucking follows through. No matter the cost. And what the team NEEDS, whether they choose to admit it or not, is a backbone.

So...

They bring home Javi. The music uses a reference that’s never been done before. It uses the spiritual powerballad that was playing when Laura Lee tried to fly away. It builds the expectation of Great Things, of big, potent ...

And then it just stops. As the girls are faced with the reality of what’s laying on the table. The cold, blue corpse of a soft child who never hurt anyone. No matter what they do, no matter how hard they try they just cannot make him a carcass. But they have made the choice already, and if they turn back now it’s not like it’ll bring him back. They’ll just be starving and regretful as he rots.

So Shauna, blind and shaking, does the best she can. And when she brings in the meat, she - of all people - understands EXACTLY what Travis is going through. She knows what he needs. Because she’s been here. With Jackie. So she brings him Javi’s heart. His core. His love. His soul.

(She doesn’t bring him Javi’s head. She cuts that off and puts it aside so nobody has to eat his face... Some things are worth more than pure nutritional survival.)

And Travis, god bless him, does the only thing he can do left to respect Javi. He takes his heart, and he bites it, raw and bloody.

It hurts him to do so. It disgusts him so much, but he manages not to throw up. It disgusts the girls too, but they watch on, horrified. And that’s the POINT. Travis makes sure that before they do this, before they do what they have to... that they all remember this is Javi, this is human, this is a person. And he preserves the horror. For all their sakes. And only then, after he’s given his blessing, after he’s done his human acts, do these starving, ravenous girls allow themselves to reach for their food.

S1E1. Act 1, scene 1. We do not know who Pit Girl is. We do not know the exact circumstances that get us there. But we do know where we started now. What the original meaning is behind each of these little things. And it’s not brutality, not barbarism. It’s love. It’s not lord of the flies, a bunch of monstrous human-shaped creatures giving in to their primal nature and predating on each other. It’s a team of terrified people desperately clutching at their own humanity as hard as they can. Trying SO hard not to let that glass break, to not become the thing that the framing of act 1 scene 1 tried so VERY hard to convince us they were. Context changes everything.

And the proof is in the pudding. After they eat Jackie the shock explodes throughout the cabin. The atmosphere is thick, and horrific. Now with Javi, reduced to simple meat, carefully and lovingly seperated from what made him human, so they can grieve him while they sate their natural needs, the mood post-eating is calm and soft and warm and loving. For once they’re all together, with grateful full stomachs and in a time of peace and plenty. They’ve done the impossible and maintained their humanity and love for each other and their respect for Javi in a nearly impossible situation.

*takes a deep breath*

Which brings us to THIS asshole.

Right from the start, Jackie is only kind of part of the team. She’s the team captain, put up there by Coach Martinez, but not because she’s the best of them but because she can maybe wrangle them into doing better. And they KNOW that she’s not really one of them. They plot around her, and just don’t bring her in on it. They put up with her, more than loving her, she’s just kind of forced upon them. But she does her best, to try to maintain some semblance of order, giving pep talks and the like.

Wait, Jackie? I mean coach. My bad.

Anyway, so Jackie has one friend, Shauna. She SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to her, but Shauna’s the only one who actually likes her. And Shauna’s her connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn as to where her real loyalties lie.

Sorry I’m talking about Jackie again.... weird.

In S1E9/10 Shauna finally chooses the team, for real. And Jackie tries to pull her back away, but Shauna puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, you’re the odd one out. Why don’t YOU leave, Jackie? Jackie looks around at the burgeoning cult, she thinks “Look at these evil monstrous bitches, and now Shauna’s one of them TOO?” And instead of finding a compromise, instead of doing introspection, instead of anything like that, Jackie goes and freezes to death because it turns out that sheer rage won’t keep you warm in sub zero temperatures. Because no matter what happens, Jackie’s Right and it’s more important to her to be Right than Included. If she’s not in charge than why is she even THERE?

Hold on, I see my mistake. Let me backtrack.

Right from the start, Coach is only kind of part of the team. He’s trying to hide from his real life, from Paul and the complexities of being genuine in society by taking on the job of coaching the ‘jackets. And they KNOW that he’s not really one of them. He’s just the guy they have to listen to, because society put him there. But he tries his best, giving pep talks and the like.

So Coach has one friend, Natalie. He SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to him, but Nat’s the only one who actually likes him. (Ignore Misty, a schoolgirl comphet crush is not the same thing). And Nat’s his connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn to where her real loyalties lie. Sometimes she’s on the bench with Coach, complaining about the state of things. Sometimes she’s in the thick of it with them all, and Coach is nowhere to be found.

In S2E9, Nat finally chooses the team, for real. And Coach tries to pull her back, but Nat puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, I’m worse than them, you’re the odd one out. Go, save yourself, you don’t belong in this place. Coach looks at a table covered in blood and gore, at Nat’s face, at the rest of the team pledging fealty to her. And instead of looking for context, or looking for compromise, or even remotely trying to understand what he’s looking at he thinks

Look at these evil monstrous bitches. They’re eating each other. They’ve all gone mad. They’ve even gotten Nat now. There’s no hope for them, there’s no hope for anyone out here.

And he decides that they’re corrupt. That the way you deal with that is fire. And he’s wrong.

(I have a theory that he’s gone and jumped off the cliff, that he set the fire to clear the corruption, and now like Jackie, unable to live in this situation any longer, he’s decided to die himself. I’d not be surprised to find him in s3e1 that way)

Jackie was a frustrating, difficult person. Because no matter how things went she just COULDN’T let go of the fact that she was trying to fit a mold that just didn’t suit her. She was raised with super high expectations, when she was really just kind of mid. And that’s fine, honestly, most people ARE mid, that’s why it’s mid. But she refused to see that those around her were shedding their social pressures, were adapting to the wilderness. They weren’t having a good time, they weren’t hunting and foraging because they were out there, camping for fun. Nobody wanted to be there. They were just trying not to complain about it, because they were all in the same boat.

Coach is similar. He simply won’t adapt. Refuses to. I mean this is a guy who’s STILL trying to live in the closet when there’s open lesbians making out in public around him. Who thinks of others as inherently monstrous when he himself, as a gay man, should know better. Because that’s what trying to fit your society-assigned role does to you.

It’s no accident that he and Jackie both spend a long time in the woods and neither of them can do something as basic as start a fucking campfire. Javi, a little kid, survived for MONTHS on his own in that cave. Coach couldn’t make it a day alone. Jackie couldn’t get through a night. They both rely so heavily on the team without ever once recognising it. Because SOMEONE was keeping the fires going. They both just ... refused to engage.

And just like Jackie can’t see that they’re not having fun out there in the woods, on the knifes edge of survival, Coach can’t see that they’re not having fun when they are so desperate they feel it’s warranted to sacrifice one of their own. He always thought of them as monsters, and he just sees what he expects to: a bunch of stupid useless teenage girls, finally doing what he always expected they would.

At any point... At ANY point he could’ve come in from the cold. He could’ve just accepted reality as they have. He could’ve taken some meat and accepted the price, as they have, joined them in their GRIEF about it, shared their humanity, and survived. Just as Jackie could’ve come in from the cold, and become part of the whole. But instead, they sit in the cold, consumed by their bitter hate, and decide that no, it’s everyone ELSE who’s wrong.

And who emerges from the burning cabin? A bunch of scared kids. Shauna, the FIRST cannibal, who saves Jackie’s prom dress before anything else. Travis, who grabs Javi’s wolf. Nat who grabs the ammunition - that they NEVER use on each other - because if they lost that they’d get SERIOUSLY desperate. And they protect each other, they make sure everyone makes it out. These supposed monsters who are so far gone they don’t even care about eating each other go out of their way to save each other, not just themselves.

Because Coach is wrong. Just like Jackie was wrong. Just like WE were wrong, in s1e1. Which brings me to my actual point.

This question is asked so many times in S1 it’s almost a mantra. And the ‘jackets’ oath of silence really builds up that it must’ve been something REALLY bad, right? But S2E9 has really made me recognise that fundamentally... Act 1 Scene 1 is entirely what everyone who asks this question is expecting.

Imagine they DID know what really happened out there. With that bloodthirsty fucking look in their eyes...

They’re not looking for an answer. They’re looking for a story. For an exciting spooky nightmare they didn’t take part in, so they can get a shiver and a thrill they didn’t earn.

They’re not looking for a love story. They’re not looking to hear how HARD these scared, tragic, broken people fought to hold onto their morals and their humanity and their sanity even against their own survival. They’re not interested in Shauna blinding herself just to try to stop her hands from shaking. They’re not looking to hear about Travis choking down the blood of his brother just to make sure that he can really FEEL it. So he can share the guilt, and never ever pretend like it’s Just Meat. The look in his eye when he can’t think of any good response to Van’s arguments that he needs to let Javi save him. What they want is...

They don’t want the context. And if the ‘jackets ever did try to tell anybody what actually DID happen out there, all they would see is ... Episode 1, Act 1, Scene 1. A bunch of monsters. Eating each other. Just like Jackie. Just like Coach. Just like we did, on first glance.

I’ve been saying this whole time that Yellowjackets is doing something really special. That it’s letting us see behind the curtain, that while everyone’s asking this big question, “what really happened?”, we’re the ones who get to know. Because it can’t be told. It can’t be spoken. It can only be seen. Experienced. I think that S2 has finally finished the first major arc in the teen timeline, that we now have the context to understand what comes next. And I do believe that it will get messy, it will devolve. Into fighting and screaming and battles. It’s tragic, but it looks like that’s the downward spiral, spiraling. As Travis and Nat deal with the guilt of what they did with Javi for each other. As Shauna and Nat butt heads and people pick sides. As Misty Mistys. As resources get even more desperate now their shelter is gone. As potentially new people (hikers? other cabin people?) get brought into conflict with them (I believe the cabin is a smoke signal, personally).

But don’t ever forget that we got here with love. Expect that the downward spiral will be lubricated with toxic, broken, codependant, self-destructive love as well. Watch them love each other to death... they’ve already begun.

#yellowjackets #spoilers #theories #Long post #no really long post

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brailsthesmolgurl · 2 months

Text

1 YOU, 1 ME

This is a one-shot request by one of the lovely readers of mine, enjoy this one :) Although I must say, this brings me back to the days when I used to be suicidal, so the experiences of mine are translated into the form of reader's POV so that you would get to take a trip of what I had dealt with as well. Just as my other one-shot Delirious, I do not take mental health as to be a joke. I am here for you if you needed someone to talk to, just like how I know you would be supportive of my works. I would do my best to cater to you as well because YOU MATTER <3.

Warnings: Deals with HEAVY Topics, Depression Mentions, Heavy Angst but yes to fluff. Please please please refrain if you are easily influenced by such topics.

XAVIER

When you had arrived at HQ today, Captain Jenna had approached you, handing you a file and informing you about the location of the wanderer as per usual. You studied the file, the wanderer looking like a saber-tooth, with fangs that could definitely pierced through skin like paper. "Good morning." You directed your head upwards and your partner stood by the side of your desk, a smile on his handsome features as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Good morning Xavier." You handed the blue file to him and he took it, opening up the page and started reading through the details just like you did. "This should be a relatively easy mission. You ready for it?" He gently placed the file onto your desk and he waited for you to get up, before walking at the same pace as you to get to the basement parking.

Xavier is wearing his white suit today, the silverish-blue garters an accessory that also serves as a tool. You can tell that he had a good sleep last night given that his blazer was pressed and there is barely a crease on it. Regardless, crumpling of clothings would be normal anyways given the dynamic range of movements hunters have to do to kill a wanderer.

The mission had ended early just like every other time. Your pairing is known to be the best due to the compatibility of Xavier's light evol and your Resonance evol, hence it is an added advantage when it comes to dealing with wanderers. Him dealing damage to one of the wanderers and your evol resonates the same act of his, inflicting damage upon other wanderers without you touching them.

"Shall we go and get something to eat?" Xavier asked you, readjusting his garter and wiping off some of the dried crusts of a wanderer's bodily fluids off of his shoulders.

You flicked your hand, your weapon disappearing on call and you looked over to him. "It's alright. I am a little tired. I'm just gonna head home for the night." You turned and started heading towards the direction of your parked motorcycle, the moonlight only being your source of lighting.

"Wait, don't wander around alone." His warned, footsteps catching up to yours effortlessly. "You might get lost in this forest you know."

Your lack of comeback made him ran his palm across the back of his neck out of embarassment. If only you are still interested in his facial features, then you might just be able to catch sight of him blushing bashfully. "My bike's here. I'm gonna head off. Enjoy your meal." You did not give him any time to revert the same to you. You just hiked up onto your bike and rode off into the night.

The same situation happened for a couple more times, till he got used to it. You would appear for missions, complete it and then you would leave. Just like how he did last time when you first met him but now the tables have seemingly turned. He watched you as you tried to control your breath after the wanderer was defeated. This time it was a huge creature, with a large tail lined with huge spikes that could kill with one swipe and it took the both of you a bit more time than usual to defeat it.

"Hey, y/n, do you---" He walked closer to you, leaning down to get a better view of your hidden face. The long hair of yours a brunette curtain.

"No Xavier, I am fine." You assumed he was going to ask you out for dinner but you were quick to reject, not wanting to add on to anymore complications. "I just needed some time to myself."

"I was meaning to ask, if you are okay?" He stopped for a tad bit. "Is everything alright?"

Your nod was curt but his frown is becoming more prominent by every added minute. "I can tell something is wrong y/n."

"Perhaps I have not been getting enough sleep recently." You dismissed him, walking towards your bike with him following behind you in quickened footsteps. "But I can assure you I am fine."

"But, you barely come to HQ and you have been excusing yourself from dinner with me after missions. Your reason for the past few times have only been 'I am fine' and 'I am tired' which is what's concerning me." He came up to you, obstructing you from getting onto your motorbike.

"Xavier." Your voice lowered. "I just want to go home and rest." With your tone, the blondie gave up, sighing and stepping aside to let you get onto your bike and he watched as you revved your engine and darted off into the embrace of the darkness.

┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧

The rings of your doorbell beckoned you to get up and off of your couch, the drama on your television turning into white noise in the back. Not that you were actually watching it anyways, the screen was on but your mind was floating elsewhere. This time however, you did not falter into your state of guilt, rendering you a chance to actually sit in still silence. You are admittedly taken aback at the sound of your doorbell ringing as you do not have any visitors checking in anytime soon including Tara. You took your time to get to the door, not even bothering to check the peephole and you swung open your door.

Here he is now, in front of your door, looking down at you from his towering height, with a casual outfit and a pizza box in his hands. Yes, he did pretended he was the pizza man just to get you to open up the door for him. Now he also knows that the peephole is just a decoration for your door.

The sight of you however, made his jaw dropped mentally. Your arm was littered in cut marks, in different shapes and depth, but the crusting of the scabs tells him that this had happened a couple of days ago. You nervously pulled your sleeves down to hide your scars, making intense eye contact with the ground. It did not hit you for you to cover your scars as to a stranger, they would care less of what happens behind your doors. But maybe much of a dismay towards Xavier. He occupied himself within your door frame and you staggered backwards.

"What's wrong?" He placed the pizza box onto the shelf next to him and he gently took your arm, pushing the sleeve up. Your hiss made him halted his actions, eyeing you for a further reaction before he spoke. "Why did you do this?"

"I..." You could not make up any words, tears gathering at the back of your eyes. The guilt flowing its way through your system instantly. It was like you lost all of your control and succumbed to your emotions. The emotions that you were so scared of showing to anyone. Especially to Xavier. With him being your partner, and your crush. You did not want him to report this to the team, and you certainly do not want him to think differently about you. "I...I was scared..." Your fist tightening. "I didn't want to lose anyone else like how I lost Tara."

Ever since that day you found out about Tara's death, you got lost. Blaming yourself was the only viable way for you to forgive yourself. She was stuck with some rookie to go and defeat a wanderer on the day you had called in sick. It was that specific mission with the inexperience rookie that got both her and the rookie killed.

Yes, it has nothing to do with you but it also has EVERYTHING to do with you. What if you did not report in sick that day? Maybe things would have had a better turn? And maybe, just maybe Tara would be able to pull through till you arrived on the scene? You remembered, the way she stared at you as she laid on the battlefield, blood oozing out of all of her orifices. Her eyes a window to her soul, opened but lifeless. As if she died hoping you could have arrived on time.

Xavier said nothing, his breaths slow and steady. Approaching you, the blond haired man pulled you in by your waist, his grip solid. You had sunken into the hole of self-blame, rotating around a death circle and at this point, Xavier could do nothing but to tell you that he is here for you, through his actions. "It's not your fault that she lost her life, y/n. Please don't blame it on yourself. I am sure Tara would not want you to do this to yourself either." He slowly lifted your arm up, analysing the wounds. They are skin deep but not deep enough to damage your skin permanently but he had to wash this and wrap this up quickly before it evolves into a nasty infection.

"I just couldn't stop myself Xavier. It hurts so much in my head that physical pain is the only way to relief it." You croaked with your dry throat. "I just felt so sad you know. Like it really hurts my heart. I don't know what is this feeling." After the first few hours of you losing Tara, you experienced nausea and headaches. Then comes the crying and the grief and then to the self-blame. You had read up about mental pain being able to manifest itself into physical pain but you were too ignorant of how severe this may be. So severe to the point that you had to result to self-harm to remind yourself of the pain you had to go through because of your carelessness. Leading you towards the bathroom, the boy was careful in his words and steps. "I believe this is what one would call grief. It hurts so much mentally that it hurts you physically as well. In this case, you have to hurt yourself to relieve the pain and I think it is time for you to meet a psychiatrist y/n." He sat you down onto the toilet seat and took out the medical kit from your cabinet. His words gave you the confirmation of what you had read about being factual. Kneeling down, he seeked for your confirmation with an alcohol pad in his hand.

When you nodded, he dabbed the pad across your arm and you bit onto your lips harshly to stop yourself from screaming out in agony. You do not deserve to scream as you had done this to yourself. His pause made you look at him. "You do not have to hold back. If it hurts, you can scream. If it hurts, you can cry. If it hurts still, you can talk to me." His eyes were sincere, the cerulean orbs a vast ocean, inviting you to be within his embrace as he opened up his arms to you.

And you fell, straight onto your knees and you grabbed onto his shirt, the blood crusts on your sleeve staining his shirt in the progress but the both of you could care less. You needed a good cry while he knows that you needed comfort. "It's alright y/n, I am here for you. I will always be here for you." His fingers ran through your hair, tucking some stray strands behind your ear, your body shook with every sob you took. "I just need you to know that regardless what happens, you can always tell me. I will never leave you alone, I can't bear to see you in this state because I love you." His sudden confession halted your cries for a moment, staring up at him with the ugliest look you got.

At this moment, you really wished that you could take any other days to hear his confession rather than hearing it from him when you are in such a vulnerable state. Seriously, who would want to get a confession when they are having a break down and they have tears and snot streaked on their face as part of their 'makeup'?

"You are saying this because you pity me, don't you?" You were ready to pull back, a slither of embarassment passed your expressions. "I do not need your pity."

"I do not pity you, y/n. In fact, I had always been admiring you for the things you do. You had uphold yourself well despite you are struggling so much. I really do like you and no matter what I will always be here for you." He reinstated his point and you grabbed hold onto his neck, crying even louder, strained voice echoed through your bathroom.

"I thought, I really thought I would have to deal with this all by myself. I can't, I never know that I am this weak." Your cries a reflection of your sadness and your relief, knowing that you can finally put your heart at rest, not having to deal with the grief all alone like how you always done it to yourself. Xavier placed his hand under your chin again and you looked up into his eyes of blue, with him leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. The death cycle shall come to an end.

ZAYNE

You tapped your feet onto the tiled floor impatiently. Clack, clack, clack. If anyone were to be within your vicinity now, your tapping against the floor would definitely be another added on frustration towards their state. Eyes darting everywhere, focusing on one thing to another. The door in front of you still remained tightly shut. The smell of antiseptic a constant fragrance within the hospital and you were about to get a headache.

You are up for your monthly routine check-up and meeting Zayne has always been nerve-wrecking, not because your heart is desperately trying to jump its way out of your chest and to give Zayne a hug, but it is also because you would like him to examine your brain as well. You figured something has been wrong with you mentally recently, after Tara's death to be exact. You get hot flashes at night, waking up at ungodly hours and sometimes, just sometimes, you would just want to lie in bed all day and not wanting to do anything, let alone eating.

You could not pinpoint exactly what was going wrong until the day you woke up from a nightmare, your chest tightened in a way you had never experienced before. Your breaths short and rushed, but no air was going into your lungs. Your throat had constricted airflow as well, choking you till your tears are being squeezed out of your eye sockets. It was until you had to scratch your arm till you bleed then you only regained consciousness, your breathing slowed, airways opening to welcome the fresh breaths of air that you were restrained from. You thought it was an allergy reaction for a moment but you were sure none of the allergies would get you to paw through your arm, breaking the skin barrier and seeing crimson red to replace the pain you had felt a while ago. Something is clearly wrong.

You had chose to wear a loose sweater today, not wanting to reveal your so-called battle scar to random strangers. Not wanting them to judge you for 'Im so emo, I hurt myself to be cool and I preach that battle scars are a sign for me fighting for my life in everyday society'. You can hear that in your own head, slowly succumbing into a state of blurred vision as you lowered your head, your vision darkening. "It's your turn." The familiar voice brought you out of your own reverie. Another shadow loomed over your hunched body, with straight shoulders and what seemed to be an outline of a long coat, you knew it was Zayne.

"Yeah." You stood up slowly and followed behind the cardiologist into his room. As usual, you took a seat next to his desk, the padded seat warm to your bum. A knob twisting, in suit with a locking sound, it marks the start for your checkup session. The room was filled with tension, as Zayne ran his stethoscope down your back, listening cautiously to your heartbeat as you took in deep breaths. The man's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed as if your heartbeat had an arrythmia. "What is it?" You asked, noticing that the listening session of his is unusually longer then usual.

"It seems like your heartbeat is slower. And there were slight staggers of arrhythmia on your right atrium. I should run some bloodtests and perhaps get an MRI scan on your heart as well." He retracted the stethoscope away from your back and walked to the front of you, fingers scooped your chin up and you looked at the man in front of you now. Standing tall, with broad shoulders that could be spotted underneath the bulky medical coat of his. He is in his blue scrubs today, perhaps a surgery aligned earlier on and he did not have much time to change out of it.

He took a small flashlight the shape of a pen out of his coat and he leaned down, a waft of his cologne hitting your nose. Minty fresh with a mix of antiseptic, that is what he smells like on the days he has a full schedule ahead. You peeled open you eyes wider and he flashed the light into your pupils, his hazel green orbs in an uncalled staring competition with you. "Pupils are functioning well as usual, but I do realise some redness at your whites. Have you been getting enough sleep?" A slight hint of him caring for your quality of sleep went away as fast as it arrived.

"I...Actually..." Your lips froze, words forming at the tip of your tongue but you could not roll out any of them. It was like your brain was subconsciously begging you not to tell Zayne, in order to not ruin his impressions of you being a healthy individual. He is a doctor, what harm would that cause if you were to tell him that you had been experiencing some mental issues these past few days? Perhaps he would just throw you some medical facts, ask you to drink more water and you should feel better in a day or two.

Then you recalled when your grandmother had passed, he did not show any bits of sympathy towards you other than passing on the box that was left behind by your late grandmother. He did not even ask if you were doing alright when you sat right here in his office, trying so hard to hold those choked sobs back. The thought of him not showing any sympathy towards you during the loss of your grandmother gave you the ultimate decision that you will not reveal anything to him. "I had been sleeping late these days because of paperwork."

The doctor sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the glasses sat comfortably at the bump he has on his nose. "If its so, try not to procrastinate in the afternoon and actually do your paperwork instead of rushing them all at once in the middle of the night." His sound advice not a bit helpful to your fib. "You wearing a long sleeved sweater in the middle of summer would cause you to get a heat stroke, which would directly affect your heart as well. So I would advice you to keep cool whenever you can." He sat down in his chair, picking up a pen and started scribbling away on the prescription tab. "As for now, take these medications for your arrhythmia. Once the MRI is scheduled I will get the nurse to contact you to come in for the scan."

┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧

"Y/n." Tap tap tap. "Y/n wake up." An oddly familiar voice drowned your hearing, your body lifted off of the floor by a force. "Y/n. Please wake up." The smell of antiseptic filled your nose and your eyes slowly opened up, the blinding lights above made it hard for you to adjust to your surroundings. Your name was called out again and you turned your head a little, catching sight of Zayne, his eyes slightly widened. He was staring at you as if he had seen a ghost. You could barely remember what happened. Ringing in your heads made you winced and the man pulled you tighter within his arms. Your face now against his hard torso. "What happened?"

You blinked your eyes a couple more times and you looked down. Blood pooled on your wooden floors, the wax layered on top of it preventing the liquid from seeping through. Your arms were streaked in red, the evidence clear as daylight underneath your fingernails. It probably happened again, did it? "I...I don't know." You responded weakly, your lips equivalent to sandpaper. "I don't know what happened."

Zayne pushed you back a little and he held your arm up by your wrist, eyeing over all of the bloody and deep scratches to search for a sign of infection. Perhaps, a sign for why would you do this to yourself as well. Zayne decided to come by your abode when you had missed out on your MRI appointment, him knowing that you would not purposely miss out on any medical appointments and even if you have to, you would at least have the decency to make a call to inform.

That day when you left the room, he noticed your charm was lacking, your retorts were non-existent, and your face was ghoulish. You struggling to tell him a piece of your mind, only to retract back and say that you fell asleep late due to paper work caught the doctor off-guard as well. But he is not the type to intrude, to ask you questions that you would not want to answer.

He came by, searching under your potted plants for the key and it was slotted right beneath the jasmine pot that he had given you as a congratulatory present when you got accepted into Unicorn. His heart inexplicably felt warm at the thought of you still caring for the jasmine till this day. He twisted the key into the doorknob and it clicked open, slotting himself right into your doorway and he looked through your apartment. It looked neat, but the lights were not turned on. He heard a loud thud and his footsteps reacted to it, carrying him across your living room and towards your bedroom.

Another thud, this time louder, echoed through your room and he opened the door hastily, immediately catching sight of your body, laying on the floor, jolting as if you were shocked by an invisible electric current. You are having a seizure, in a pool of blood that he could only assume belonging to you. He took three long strides and he was shocked to his core. Your arms were littered with long and narrow open wounds, the culprit being your blood stained fingers. Your eyes were flipped to the back of your head, veins popped out of your neck as one of your hand latched itself onto your forearm and yo dug deeper into your wounds. "Y/n!" He shouted, unbuttoning his sleeves and pushing them up his forearm and he dived down onto his knees to heave you towards him, away from the wall.

He immediately started doing CPR, going according to the beat as he switched between pumping your chest and blowing air into your mouth. The effectivity of the CPR started kicking in when your convulsions started to calm down, your body going from tensing to limp and you laid unmoving on the floor. He leaned down to get a good hearing of your heart. It is beating in a normal rhythm, a good sign that you are still alive. The arrhythmia is gone now but the soon-to-be scars on your arms is the next thing he worries about.

He did not understand, none of the theories he had studied about one's physicality applied. The heart arrhythmia, the sight of you convulsing on the floor, the hearings of your choked breaths as he watched you, the skin deep lacerations inflicted upon yourself only with the use of your fingernails. None of the symptoms matched any of his medical theories. i am not a doctor, pls dont chew me on this :,)

Unless it has something to do out of his field, which is the mental aspect. Zayne being a doctor, although succeeded at a relatively young age, but his expertise has always been within the field of cardiology. Of course he has friends within the psychological field, but it never struck him that you would end up with a mental illness. You had always been fit as a fiddle in his eyes, both mentally and physically. But all it takes is for two accidents in a row to trigger the mental illness for you. If its so, why did you not tell him anything about it? Why did you keep it all to yourself? He knew he should have said something, he should have stayed by your side when he found out about Tara's death. It was too short of a timeframe for you to be dealing with two deaths within a few months' gap.

"It's alright, you will be okay. Everything will be alright." He only remembered during one of the mental illness campaigns he was asked to attend, they taught of ways to identify individuals experiencing mental illness and very little was talked about how can one deal with someone who is having an episode. The speaker said something about acceptance, comfort and validation. And that is to the extent of what Zayne knows.

"Y/n, I need you to take in deep breaths, I need you to calm down." He could not treat her just like any other patient in this damn moment. This vulnerability of hers is new territory for him, but it shows that she is not as strong as she portrays herself to be and this part of her provoked him to want to be there for her even more than before.

"I don't know...I don't know why I am like this." You trembled in his arms, your head spinning and you felt like you were about to taste bile anytime.

"And it is not your fault, y/n." His voice is calm, soothing to your ears. You could feel his hot breath against the shell of your ear and you looked up at him, the lights above him forming an angelic halo. "It shall never be your fault." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I am sorry that I was never there for you. From now on, let me be there for you." Other than the kiss on your forehead being a shock factor, the fact he wanted to be involved in your life and your 'journey-to-recovery' made your heart skipped an extra beat. "I promise you, from now on, I will always be by your side, only when you want me to."

You lifted your hand up to touch his cheeks, your palm cold to the touch on his warm face. You swore you saw him blushed for a mere second. "Of course I would want you to be by my side Zayne." And he gave you a comforting smile. The man then slowly inched down, eyes looking between your eyes and lips. When you tilt your head upwards, he took it as your consent and you both shared the first kiss.

RAFAYEL

"Do you want that?" Rafayel asked you, index finger pointed right at a banana boat plushie. Two 'flavours' to be picked from, one with the usual chocolate, vanilla and strawberry theme while the other has a caramel, vanilla and banana theme. You were about to pick for the latter but the man standing beside you was quicker in calling out shots. "I think the original one would fit you better. The colour theme just looks more harmonious than the other."

You watched as he picked up the dart and aimed it towards the target. He pulled his wrist back and with a flick, the dart landed onto the target's bullseye. The stall owner did not look a bit amused, probably thinking that he could scam Rafayel enough money for a meal. Walking over to the banana boat plushie, the guy took it down and handed it to Rafayel over the counter. "Thanks." You smiled, hugging the plushie when he gave it to you.

"Where is my hug?" Rafayel looked betrayed, the signature pout of his surfacing. "I was the one who scored you Mr.Babana here." Yes, he called it Babana. Smiling, you went over to him, arms opened wide and you hugged him, your head settling right into his chest. He smelled of grapefruit and white wood, with a splash of peach as the base. You thought he only used one perfume for all types of events as he has voiced his dislike for strong smelling scents but you were clearly wrong. Musky smelling ones for when he attends interviews, fresh smelling ones for when he attends events, and sweet smelling ones are only reserved for his outings with you.

His chin was propped right above the top of your head, and he smells fresh shampoo. You nagging him about how sakura composites are good for the hair recently is enough for him to know what shampoo you are currently using. To Rafayel, you are not that hard to decipher. In fact, you may be one of the most uncomplicated character he had ever met in his life. Your genuine emotions and expressions a direct reflection to your conscience and that is exactly why he likes you.

"Thank you for the Mr.Babana." You chuckled, pulling away from the hug but his arms remained on your shoulder, he would have opted to hold your waist but he wanted to make sure that you would not be uncomfortable in this situation.

"My pleasure of course." He mimicked your smile and this time, the both of you took a step back from each other and then walked down the path together. The cobblestones beneath your shoe reflecting the lights from the parade, painting them in all sorts of colours that offers more variety than a rainbow. "Y/n, I have to travel abroad tomorrow to attend one of my exhibitions. So, I was wondering once I am back from my business trip, would you like to go out with me again?"

Him informing you about the business trip made you hesitant to answer him. Not because you did not want to go out on a date with him again. You just did not want to be alone. Not when you had just lost a friend to a wanderer. All of the smiles you had presented today are genuine, but deep down, you were worried your remorse would eat you up and ruin the whole date for today. The last thing you want is for Rafayel to be on the receiving end for your breakdowns.

"I am waiting for a yes." You jolted at how close he is to your face, you could practically feel his breath against your skin. He smirked, taking a step back to give you some breathing space, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans. The young man today adorned a fitted black tshirt with a pair of jeans, pairing over it is a jean jacket. Simple outfit but definitely looks amazing on him.

"Y...yeah, of course we can Rafayel." You looked down, nervously trying to calm your hyped heartbeats. With that, the date between you two came to an end, with Rafayel fetching you home safely and making sure you got into your home before he drove off.

┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✧

Rafayel had left for his business trip for the past two days. And for the past two days, it can only be described as hellish for you. Jerking yourself off of your bed, you sat straight, eyes widened as cold sweat trickled down the back of your neck. Yet another nightmare, the same one every night. With the sight of Tara laying on the traylike bed in the morgue, awaiting for you to identify her. She was as pale as the walls surrounding her, her body laid rigid, and her eyes closed. It almost seemed like she was asleep but you knew right then and there, she would not be able to open her eyes anymore.

She had a wound the size of a bullet in between her eyebrows. They called it a fatality spot as anything that is sharp enough to penetrate that area and passing the skull would be guaranteed an instant death. Just like what Tara had gone through. The wound however, according to autopsy, was inflicted by something biological, so bullets are out of the question and the only answer you could think of is the act of a berserk wanderer. You kept trying to blink, assuming that if you blinked hard enough, Tara would be able to rise again and everything would be back to how it was like. But, that's not the case most of the time.

Instead of accepting her death, you chose to deny it. Ironic, your identification process of Tara in the morgue is validated but you yourself chose to not accept the reality of her death. You even refused to go to her funeral the day after tomorrow, claiming to yourself that it would only make you hate yourself more than anything else. You were not there when it happened as you were sent onto another mission, a much tougher one that involves civillians. So, Tara was assigned this mission, just to deal with a bunch of wanderers. Or so you heard, but her wound says otherwise. Whatever wanderer she had been dealing with is certainly way beyond what she could handle.

The date between you and Rafayel took place the day after her funeral so the wounds of your grief still remained fresh. With that stated analogy, the first few days of your denial marks the start of your wounds, freshly cut opened, breaking off the surface of the skin barrier but still not deep enough to leave a scar. Now you are in phase two, where blood starts seeping through the wound as it has broken through the skin barrier, cutting deeper. This is where the nightmares become more and more revolting, more and more realistic that you have a hard time differentiating between your trance and reality.

You buried your face into Mr.Babana and you cried like there is no tomorrow. You had to get it out somehow, and the best way you could think of is to cry yourself to sleep again and pray hard so that you would not have a continuation of the nauseating nightmare. When you opened your eyes again, you were met with the warmth of the sunlight peeking in through your window. Sunlight in general, is known to promote energy boosting for one's body but right now, it only did the opposite for you.

Your phone rang, drowning out the sounds of your ugly cries. Shimmying towards you bedside, you held up your phone and you saw the contact name 'Your Favourite Fishie'. You specifically recalled that you had saved his name under Rafayel, but when did it got changed? Maybe it was during that time when he was playing on your phone while his was charging and he seized the opportunity to change his name into something so ridiculous like this. You sniffled, trying to calm your breathing the best possible and you answered the call. "Hello." You croaked out. Shit.

"Hey, y/n. Did I happen to wake you up?" His voice came through the other side of the call. He sounded borderline concern.

"No, you didn't don't worry. I woke up to use the washroom." You spoke, if he were to be in front of you right now, he would be nagging you to speak up but thank goodness your phone has a good microphone to pick up your small volume. "How is your exhibition going?"

"Boooring." You can tell he was rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "That's why I am already on my way back. I will arrive in probably half an hour. So would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Contemplating, you knew that if you were to meet him in 30 minutes, your puffy face would lead to a telltale sign that you had just cried. Then, you assumed that Rafayel would be disappointed with you. You see, Rafayel had never been the type to submit towards pressure, instead, he is a notorious rebel towards it. It is like he has something personal against stress. With your current status, you immediately felt like you are not worthy to be spending your time with him. Let alone having to have a huge crush on him. What makes you think that he would like you back if he found out about your current state of distress? He would definitely not want to deal with such an issue.

"Actually, today I am not free. I have stuffs to do." You gnawed onto your lip.

Pouting, the purple haired man crossed his legs nonchalantly, sitting himself comfortably in his luxurious car as Thomas drove it. "Like what stuffs?"

You panicked, eyes watery and you sniffled. "I have to go to the doctors. I am having a flu and I don't want to infect you."

Rafayel heard that sniffle of yours and he immediately replied. "Oh, alright. Then you rest well okay? There will always be some other day that I can bring you out for a nice dinner so you owe me that alright?"

"Yeah okay." And the call ended with him saying 'bye and take care'. Hanging up the phone, your lips quivered, chills ran down your spine as you started hesitating about whether you should still stay in contact with Rafayel. You could not possibly land him to be your boyfriend, where did the confidence come from? "I am just not worth it." Your cries then came back.

The next hour went by and you were laying in your bed the whole time, no will to move, no appetite, no will to even meet anyone. You just wanted to succumb to your loneliness, the sound of the fan is the only voice you can hear. The only company you have for now. You had just calmed down from your break down, your eyes full on puffy now and you are experiencing after-cries hiccups. Your mind had a constant voice, reminding you of just how useless you are not only at your job, but also your incapability to keep your emotions in check. Feeling overwhelmed, you curled into a ball and just allow the tears to flow.

The door to your room creaked open but it did not faze you. You were too caught up with the voices in your head but Rafayel's voice made you covered your ears. You are delusional now, great. Until a hand touched your shoulder then you snapped your head towards the source, met with purplish-blue eyes that were filled with utmost concern for you. "Hey, hey what happened?" He climbed onto your bed and sat right in front of you, his large hands cupping your small face, his thumb drew over your cheeks, dismissing your tears. "Why are you crying y/n? Did someone hurt you?"

Your silence marks the end of his questioning and he pulled you into his chest. His solid torso cushioning your head as he laid down with you in his arms, on top of him. "Shh, it's alright." Rafayel held you close to him. "I know things have been tough for you."

"We should stop meeting." Your desolating suggestion made him pulled back in shock, his eyes scanning your face for any smiles or hints of it being a joke but he did not find any at all. "I like you Rafayel, and I think this is not healthy for you."

"Who are you? The moral police? Who are you to determine what is healthy or not for me?" His eyebrows are furrowed in frustration. "Even if you want to push me away, you can't because I am in love with you y/n. I am so madly in love with you that I kept thinking about you everyday, everything that I see reminds me of you, every artwork that I inspect at the exhibition only related to you. So, you can't push me away, no matter how hard you try."

"But, whatever I am experiencing now, it makes me think I am not worth---" His finger silenced you, pressing it against your lips to ask you to shut up politely.

"Do not speak for me y/n. As much as I like to hear your voice, I do not want to hear such unflattering ideas from your pretty head okay?" He ran his hand down the sides of your cheek, his gaze loving. "I want you to know that, I will never let you cry alone, ever again. Do not worry about me being stressed out or anything about you not being able to be in control of your emotions. I am sure I can handle anything when it comes to you, for I had waited a long time for someone like you y/n. Annnnd I will not let something as simple as you going through a period of depression push me away. So, why don't you do me a favour and tell me what is going on in that pretty head of yours?"

His confession surely warmed your heart, with you staring at him in disbelief. You know he had always been showing signs of him being interested in you, but you never thought you would be able to catch sight of him being empathetic towards you. Your sobs came again, this time much more stronger and you leaned into him, spending the day telling him about everything that you had went through and ended up sleeping next to him. Rafayel propped himself up on his elbow and he watched your features, puffy and reddish but you did not lack your beauty amidst all of the chaos you have to go through. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, a promise to you that he would stay with you forever.

This is the end of this one-shot and sorry my lovelies, this will not be getting an extra episode or anything. It shall only be ending here :,)

P.S: These are part and parcel of my actual experiences, hence I do not downplay or look down on anyone who are struggling with mental illness. As I know it is very tough to get over it. The part where Rafayel had spoken to reader, where he would be by his side blah blah, was actually what my boyfriend told me when I was having a terrible panic attack. So please my girlies, do not settle for the bare minimum and lower your standards for a guy/gurl who could not be better for you. Because you all deserve happiness oki.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #lnds #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader

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sneezypeasy · 2 months

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Why I Deliberately Avoided the "Colonizer" Argument in my Zutara Thesis - and Why I'll Continue to Avoid it Forever

This is a question that occasionally comes up under my Zutara video essay, because somehow in 2 hours worth of content I still didn't manage to address everything (lol.) But this argument specifically is one I made a point of avoiding entirely, and there are some slightly complicated reasons behind that. I figure I'll write them all out here.

From a surface-level perspective, Zuko's whole arc, his raison d'etre, is to be a de-colonizer. Zuko's redemption arc is kinda all about being a de-colonizer, and his redemption arc is probably like the most talked about plot point of ATLA, so from a basic media literacy standpoint, the whole argument is unsound in the first place, and on that basis alone I find it childish to even entertain as an argument worth engaging with, to be honest.

(At least one person in my comments pointed out that if any ship's "political implications" are problematic in some way, it really ought to be Maiko, as Mai herself is never shown or suggested to be a strong candidate for being a de-colonizing co-ruler alongside Zuko. If anything her attitudes towards lording over servants/underlings would make her… a less than suitable choice for this role, but I digress.)

But the reason I avoided rebutting this particular argument in my video goes deeper than that. From what I've observed of fandom discourse, I find that the colonizer argument is usually an attempt to smear the ship as "problematic" - i.e., this ship is an immoral dynamic, which would make it problematic to depict as canon (and by extension, if you ship it regardless, you're probably problematic yourself.)

And here is where I end up taking a stand that differentiates me from the more authoritarian sectors of fandom.

I'm not here to be the fandom morality police. When it comes to lit crit, I'm really just here to talk about good vs. bad writing. (And when I say "good", I mean structurally sound, thematically cohesive, etc; works that are well-written - I don't mean works that are morally virtuous. More on this in a minute.) So the whole colonizer angle isn't something I'm interested in discussing, for the same reason that I actually avoided discussing Katara "mothering" Aang or the "problematic" aspects of the Kataang ship (such as how he kissed her twice without her consent). My whole entire sections on "Kataang bad" or "Maiko bad" in my 2 hour video was specifically, "how are they written in a way that did a disservice to the story", and "how making them false leads would have created valuable meaning". I deliberately avoided making an argument that consisted purely of, "here's how Kataang/Maiko toxic and Zutara wholesome, hence Zutara superiority, the end".

Why am I not willing to be the fandom morality police? Two reasons:

I don't really have a refined take on these subjects anyway. Unless a piece of literature or art happens to touch on a particular issue that resonates with me personally, the moral value of art is something that doesn't usually spark my interest, so I rarely have much to say on it to begin with. On the whole "colonizer ship" subject specifically, other people who have more passion and knowledge than me on the topic can (and have) put their arguments into words far better than I ever could. I'm more than happy to defer to their take(s), because honestly, they can do these subjects justice in a way I can't. Passing the mic over to someone else is the most responsible thing I can do here, lol. But more importantly:

I reject the conflation of literary merit with moral virtue. It is my opinion that a good story well-told is not always, and does not have to be, a story free from moral vices/questionable themes. In my opinion, there are good problematic stories and bad "pure" stories and literally everything in between. To go one step further, I believe that there are ways that a romance can come off "icky", and then there are ways that it might actually be bad for the story, and meming/shitposting aside, the fact that these two things don't always neatly align is not only a truth I recognise about art but also one of those truths that makes art incredibly interesting to me! So on the one hand, I don't think it is either fair or accurate to conflate literary "goodness" with moral "goodness". On a more serious note, I not only find this type of conflation unfair/inaccurate, I also find it potentially dangerous - and this is why I am really critical of this mindset beyond just disagreeing with it factually. What I see is that people who espouse this rhetoric tend to encourage (or even personally engage in) wilful blindness one way or the other, because ultimately, viewing art through these lens ends up boxing all art into either "morally permissible" or "morally impermissible" categories, and shames anyone enjoying art in the "morally impermissible" box. Unfortunately, I see a lot of people responding to this by A) making excuses for art that they guiltily love despite its problematic elements and/or B) denying the value of any art that they are unable to defend as free from moral wickedness.

Now, I'm not saying that media shouldn't be critiqued on its moral virtue. I actually think morally critiquing art has its place, and assuming it's being done in good faith, it absolutely should be done, and probably even more often than it is now.

Because here's the truth: Sometimes, a story can be really good. Sometimes, you can have a genuinely amazing story with well developed characters and powerful themes that resonate deeply with anyone who reads it. Sometimes, a story can be all of these things - and still be problematic.*

(Or, sometimes a story can be all of those things, and still be written by a problematic author.)

That's why I say, when people conflate moral art with good art, they become blind to the possibility that the art they like being potentially immoral (or vice versa). If only "bad art" is immoral, how can the art that tells the story hitting all the right beats and with perfect rhythm and emotional depth, be ever problematic?

(And how can the art I love, be ever problematic?)

This is why I reject the idea that literary merit = moral virtue (or vice versa) - because I do care about holding art accountable. Even the art that is "good art". Actually, especially the art that is "good art". Especially the art that is well loved and respected and appreciated. The failure to distinguish literary critique from moral critique bothers me on a personal level because I think that conflating the two results in the detriment of both - the latter being the most concerning to me, actually.

So while I respect the inherent value of moral criticism, I'm really not a fan of any argument that presents moral criticism as equivalent to literary criticism, and I will call that out when I see it. And from what I've observed, a lot of the "but Zutara is a colonizer ship" tries to do exactly that, which is why I find it a dishonest and frankly harmful media analysis framework to begin with.

But even when it is done in good faith, moral criticism of art is also just something I personally am neither interested nor good at talking about, and I prefer to talk about the things that I am interested and good at talking about.

(And some people are genuinely good at tackling the moral side of things! I mean, I for one really enjoyed Lindsay Ellis's take on Rent contextualising it within the broader political landscape at the time to show how it's not the progressive queer story it might otherwise appear to be. Moral critique has value, and has its place, and there are definitely circumstances where it can lead to societal progress. Just because I'm not personally interested in addressing it doesn't mean nobody else can do it let alone that nobody else should do it, but also, just because it can and should be done, doesn't mean that it's the only "one true way" to approach lit crit by anyone ever. You know, sometimes... two things… can be true… at once?)

Anyway, if anyone reading this far has recognised that this is basically a variant of the proship vs. antiship debate, you're right, it is. And on that note, I'm just going to leave some links here. I've said about as much as I'm willing/able to say on this subject, but in case anyone is interested in delving deeper into the philosophy behind my convictions, including why I believe leftist authoritarian rhetoric is harmful, and why the whole "but it would be problematic in real life" is an anti-ship argument that doesn't always hold up to scrutiny, I highly recommend these posts/threads:

In general this blog is pretty solid; I agree with almost all of their takes - though they focus more specifically on fanfic/fanart than mainstream media, and I think quite a lot of their arguments are at least somewhat appropriate to extrapolate to mainstream media as well.

I also strongly recommend Bob Altemeyer's book "The Authoritarians" which the author, a verified giga chad, actually made free to download as a pdf, here. His work focuses primarily on right-wing authoritarians, but a lot of his research and conclusions are, you guessed it, applicable to left-wing authoritarians also.

And if you're an anti yourself, welp, you won't find support from me here. This is not an anti-ship safe space, sorrynotsorry 👆

In conclusion, honestly any "but Zutara is problematic" argument is one I'm likely to consider unsound to begin with, let alone the "Zutara is a colonizer ship" argument - but even if it wasn't, it's not something I'm interested in discussing, even if I recognise there are contexts where these discussions have value. I resent the idea that just because I have refined opinions on one aspect of a discussion means I must have (and be willing to preach) refined opinions on all aspects of said discussion. (I don't mean to sound reproachful here - actually the vast majority of the comments I get on my video/tumblr are really sweet and respectful, but I do get a handful of silly comments here and there and I'm at the point where I do feel like this is something worth saying.) Anyway, I'm quite happy to defer to other analysts who have the passion and knowledge to give complicated topics the justice they deserve. All I request is that care is taken not to conflate literary criticism with moral criticism to the detriment of both - and I think it's important to acknowledge when that is indeed happening. And respectfully, don't expect me to give my own take on the matter when other people are already willing and able to put their thoughts into words so much better than me. Peace ✌

*P.S. This works for real life too, by the way. There are people out there who are genuinely not only charming and likeable, but also generous, charitable and warm to the vast majority of the people they know. They may also be amazing at their work, and if they have a job that involves saving lives like firefighting or surgery or w.e, they may even be the reason dozens of people are still alive today. They may honestly do a lot of things you'd have to concede are "good" deeds.

They may be all of these things, and still be someone's abuser. 🙃

Two things can be true at once. It's important never to forget that.

#zutara discourse #the colonizer argument #anti anti zutara #text post #long post #anti maiko #anti mai #tagging just in case #anti purity culture #this is not an anti-ship safe space

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hoejosatoru · 1 year

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Well Trained

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Feitan, Fem!Reader x Chrollo (separately)

Summary: Chrollo is a particular man, with particular taste. Though he loves everything about you, he has yet to see how you preform in bed. He fears that if you disappoint him, it will ruin everything that you’ve built together. Luckily, he knows someone who can teach you to behave exactly how he likes.

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: Dub con that borders on noncon at times. If you’re sensitive to that at all I would skip this one, toxic relationship dynamic, manipulation, face slapping, choking, scratching, rough sex, degradation, praise, Feitan is mean but we know that, Dom Chrollo, calls you good girl a lot, body marking, oral (fem receiving), raw sex, cream pie, not proof read. MDNI

a/n: So I’ve had this idea in my head FOREVER because I want both Chrollo and feitan badly. Writing this concept out was lowkey kicking my ass though. I think I ended up pulling it together, but I hope y’all enjoy.

Dating Chrollo was a dream come true. He was everything you ever wanted in a man: intelligent, attentive, and sweet. Not to mention so handsome. He treated you like a princess and you loved it. Everything was perfect.

Well, almost everything.

You’d been dating for a couple months and you hadn’t had sex yet. At first you thought he wasn’t that into you, but when he kept coming back for more dates you knew that couldn’t be the case. You wondered if he was a wait till marriage type, or was shy in some way. You respected the boundary, despite wanting to sleep with him so bad. If he needed more time, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but it was starting to worry you.

Little did you know, Chrollo wanted to sleep with you just as badly. Maybe even more so. He was very picky with who he slept with, hence this long period of courting. However, the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he had genuine feelings for you. He has had some relationships in the past, but he always knew they would not be very longterm. You, however, he felt was someone he could see himself with forever.

This revelation made him want to make sure everything was perfect. He liked women with experience, who knew what they were doing and how to please him. However, he hated having to put the work in to get his partners there himself. Luckily, he knew someone who was a very effective teacher.

“My love,” Chrollo spoke over his wine, “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

He smiled at your eagerness. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks colored at the blatant question. Chrollo loved how demure you were. “Y-yes, I do. A lot, actually.”

“Good,” Chrollo replied, taking a sip of his deep burgundy drink, “I have wanted to for some time now, but there is something I need you to do first.”

Your brows knitted. “What is that?”

“I’m a very... particular person. As I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Chrollo explained, “And I want to make sure everything is just right.”

Your heart dropped a little bit. “Am... Am I not good enough for you?”

Chrollo shook his head and placed a hand over yours, comforting your nerves. “Not at all, my love. Quite the opposite actually. I love you so much that I don’t want anything to get in the way of our relationship.”

You nodded, feeling slightly relieved. “What is it? What do you want me to do?”

Chrollo thought about what the best way to explain it was. “I have a friend. He can teach you what I like, much better than I can.” He say the confused look on your face and continued. “You trust me, don’t you y/n?”

“Yes, of course,” you replied instantly. And it was true.

“I know it is an request,” Chrollo went on, “But it is important to me. Everything about you is so perfect. This will simply make sure it stays that way.” He kissed your hand, making your stomach fill with butterflies. “I want you in my life forever. Will you do this for me, my love?”

The way he looked at you and spoke to you made your body feel weak in the best way. The answer was easy for you. “Yes, of course.”

A smile spread across his face. “Excellent.”

A few days later you found yourself in a building outside of the city. It was a bit dumpy on the outside, but the inside was furnished nicely. You were aware that Chrollo engaged in a very secretive business and decided awhile ago not to ask. You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to. It didn’t matter, anyways, you loved him. And he loved that about you.

Chrollo led you into a bedroom, occupied by one other man. You felt a pang of anxiety, not fully knowing what Chrollo meant by being taught what he liked.

“Y/n, this is my friend Feitan,” Chrollo introduced you to smaller man standing before you. The way his cold eyes appraised you sent a shiver down your spine. You said a polite hello, but he was silent. Chrollo continued, “Feitan is on the quiet side, but I trust him completely. He is going to show you what I want.”

Your stomach rolled anxiously. “Wh-what does that mean, exactly?”

Chrollo gave you an almost sympathetic look. “I don’t want to lie to you, my love. I want you to have sex with Feitan. He’s going to... mold you into the exact type of lover I like.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Chrollo was a bit possessive, even early on in your relationship, so you couldn’t believe he was telling you to have sex with another man. Your eyes flicked over to Feitan, his aura making you nervous. “Chrollo I don’t-”

Chrollo gently took your jaw in his hands and turned your face back to his. “I thought you trusted me, love?”

“I do, I ju-”

“It will be okay, I promise. This will make our relationship stronger. Everything will be perfect. You want that, don’t you? You love me, don’t you?” He was so close to you, speaking so softly it made you dizzy. You almost forgot Feitan was there and what this situation was for. You never understood the effect Chrollo had on you, just that it was very strong.

“I do, I love you so much,” you replied.

“If that is true, you’ll do this,” Chrollo replied sweetly, “And I know you will, because I know you love me.”

You nodded. You were nervous, of course, but you couldn’t say to him. “I will, I promise.”

Chrollo smiled. “My good girl.” He kissed your forehead. “Now go sit on the bed, I need to talk to Feitan quickly.” You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed as the two men stepped out side and spoke in hushed tones.

“What rules boss?” Feitan asked.

“Get her how I like them. You know the way,” Chrollo replied, “Do whatever you need to. Choke her or hit her if you need to. Just nothing that will leave a mark, especially not on her face. And don’t cum inside her, that is for me only.”

Feitan nodded. “Understood.”

With that, the smaller man slipped back inside the room. Your anxiety spiked being alone with him. He pulled his jacket down, revealing his full face. He actually quite handsome, almost similar to Chrollo. He, however, looked more cold and harsh than your boyfriend did. He was silent as he approached you, appraising your body language. He could tell you were nervous, which excited him.

“Take clothes off,” he stated. With you on the bed and him standing he was able to look down on you.

“I don’t-”

Before you could finish your sentence he gripped your jaw. “It not a request.” You nodded, shaking. He was not someone you wanted to challenged. You slowly took off your shirt, then your pants. You reluctantly went for your bra, but he grabbed your arm. “I do that. You undress me now.”

You nodded, your voice still feeling lodged in your throat. You were just happy to have the focus be on something other than you. You stripped off his jacket, shirt and pants, leaving him in his underwear. “Good,” he said before climbing on top of you.

Your body instinctively shrunk away from him, which made him scowl. “You treat me like Chrollo. You would not hide from him.” He place his hands on your shoulders, pressing your body into a more relaxed position on the mattress.

“I’m sorry I- this is just hard for me,” you admitted.

“If you listen it will be easy,” he replied. He placed a kiss to the center of you check. “Chrollo will mark you here.” He kissed the top of your breast that your bra didn’t cover. “And here.” He kissed your neck. “And here. And you’ll let him.”

“O-okay,” you replied.

“Now we kiss.” He pressed his lips to yours, which were warmer than you thought they were going to be. Still, you felt you couldn’t kiss him back, your lips feeling glued shut. Feitan’s hand wrapped around your neck, making you gasp. Feitan laughed, licking into your mouth. “If you kiss Chrollo like that, he won’t like.” Feitan tightened his hand around your throat, choking you slightly.

You kept your eyes closed and tried to pretend you were kissing Chrollo. It was hard at first, especially with Feitan tightening his hand more. “Do better.” Eventually you were able to get into a rhythm; you knew you were doing it right when Feitan loosened his grip.

His grip loosening, however, meant dipping lower to your chest. He squeezed at your boobs over your bra for a moment, before taking it off. You couldn’t help yourself, you moved to cover yourself. Feitan, of course did not allow it. He gripped your arms and pinned them above your head, tsking. “You are slow learner.”

Feitan kissed and licked at your breasts and neck. He was very careful not pay attention to too much on one spot, as he did not want to leave a mark. Feitan took any job Chrollo gave him seriously, but especially this one. He knew how much trust Chrollo had to have in him to allow him do this. He would never break the trust, but he would make sure the job was well done. By any means necessary.

“If I release your hands, you will listen?” Feitan questioned.

“Yes,” you replied, still with a shake in your voice.

Feitan did as he said he would. “Put them in my hair. Gentle. Chrollo like that.” You slid your hands into his dark locks, running your fingers through them softly. Feitan went back to kissing you as you did this. He smacked you bare thigh when your lips got too stiff again. You yelped, but continued to kiss him like he wanted. Like Chrollo wanted, you reminded yourself. this was for him.

His hand slid down your body, between your thighs. Your legs shut, making him slap your thigh again and roughly pry them open. “Stop fighting.” He ran his hand over your clothed cunt. You focused on kissing him and running your hands through his hair as he touched you. His rubbed your clit through the fabric. You were surprised how it made your stomach curl, how it felt... good.

It made it a little easier to kiss him and touch him. You let your hands wander a little further down his back, making him hum in approval. You gasped when his finger slipped inside you, but recovered quickly. Feitan curled his finger into a spot that made your breath go ragged. He pumped his fingers faster, your cunt getting wetter by the minute. Your brain was a confused mess. On one hand it was weird to be touched by this stranger, on the other it did feel good.

Feitan slid in a second finger and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. Feitan gripped your jaw. “Don’t be quiet. He’ll wanna hear.” Feitan scissored your his fingers inside you, stretching you out. This time you let a moan slip from your lips. “Good.” He pulled his fingers out of you and put them in front of your lips. “Now suck.”

You took in his fingers, sucking at them. “More.” He shoved them deeper in your mouth, making you gag a little. You tried to correct yourself quickly, letting your tongue roll up and down the length of them, tasting yourself. Feitan yanked your underwear off and it took everything in you not to hide yourself. You felt so exposed under his gaze.

As he stripped off his underwear and climbed on top of you, the reality of what was about to happen set in and you started to panic. “No!” you cried trying to close your legs. It was no use, Feitan was so much stronger than you. He dug his nails into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you wince.

“You obey, not fight,” Feitan growled, bullying his way between your legs. You brought your hands up and start smacking his chest and shoving him away. A sudden, swift slap to your face stunned you into stillness. Your face stung as he gave you a look that struck fear into you. He gripped your jaw achingly tight and got in your face. “Chrollo never love you like this. He want girl who behave. Who listens.”

“But-” He dug his nails into your thigh more, making you yelp.

“And you never say no to Chrollo,” he practically spat. He released his grip on you, but his gaze kept you pinned in place. “You going to behave now? Or do I tell Chrollo you don’t love him enough.”

You gulped. “P-please don’t.”

“Then shut up and take it,” he replied, flipping you in your stomach. “You can’t be trusted on back.” He took both go your hands in one of his, holding them to your lower back, effectively making you immobile. You felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance, covering himself in your slick. He gave you no warning when he pressed into you, making you gasp.

Despite his smaller stature, his cock stretched your cunt. You whined as he thrust into you, not giving you any time to adjust. A slap came down on your ass. “Arch back more.” His free hand went down the length of your spine, putting you into place. The new position allowed him to get deeper inside you, hitting a spot that made you see stars. “Feels better for him. And you.” He was right, it felt so good. Your pussy throbbed with each brush of his cock at that sweet spot.

When you bit your lip to stifle a moan, you earned another sharp slap to your ass. You opened your mouth to cry out in pain, but it turned into a damn near pornographic moan as Feitan pounded you through it. “Like that. Let me hear.”

He continued to pound into you rough and hard. You knew you should hate it, that it shouldn’t feel so good, but god it did. You weren’t even faking your moans, they were all real reflections of the pleasure he gave you. Just when you thought it couldn't get more intense, his free hand snaked around to play with your clit.

“Fuck Feitan!” you cried out. You were on the precipice of an orgasm when he pulled his hand away, making you whine.

“You want to cum? Beg.”

“Please!” Another hard slap on your ass.

“Better than that.”

You begged, desperately, “Please Feitan! Please! Let me cum. I need to!”

“Good.” His hand was back on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “Now cum.” Your body responded immediately, tensing then melting into a deep, euphoric state. You were sure to moan loudly, to show him just how good it felt. You have heard him say good again, but your mind was too foggy to be sure. All you know is that he didn’t slap you again, so you must be doing something right.

Feitan pulled out of you quickly, spilling his cum on your ass and back with a low groan. He very much enjoyed when Chrollo gave him jobs like this. “Chrollo will cum inside. And you let him.” You nodded, feeling hazy and spent. Your body collapsed on to the bed as Feitan got up. He tossed a towel at you and told you to clean yourself up. You did your best to wipe his release off yourself as he dressed and disappeared out of the room.

You were just finished dressing when the door opened again. This time it was your boyfriend. “Chrollo!” you cried out with relief. You ran to him, hugging him tightly. He chuckled lightly; you played right into his plan. He knew Feitan would be rough with you and knew that would make you love his gentleness towards you even more. It was just another way to manipulate you into believing he was a good guy, to make you desperate for his approval.

“My sweet girl,” he hummed rubbing your head. “Feitan said you did good. Just a few more lessons and you’ll be perfect. I'm so proud of you, angel.”

You sniffled. “Really?”

“Of course,” Chrollo replied, giving you a chaste kiss. “I know you must really love me to do this. It makes me so happy. I hope you know I love you, too. All of the is for us, for out relationship.”

Maybe if you weren’t in such as haze you’d realize how ridiculous this all was. Or if you weren't s enamored with him. But both of those things blinded you. “I do love you! I know you love me too. I’ll do anything, I’ll learn fast. I promise.”

You returned to Feitan’s bed handful of more times over the next few weeks. He taught you to be the perfect lover for Chrollo, someone who submits fully and is eager to please. Overtime you found the lessons to be easier, even enjoyable. Well, maybe that was too strong of a word, but they were pleasurable. Feitan wasn’t gentle with you, but the more you learned and complied, the less he hit or was unnecessarily rough. You couldn’t deny that Feitan knew what he was doing.

Your favorite part, however, was how Chrollo treated you after. You lived for the praise he showered you with, how he kissed and held you. You never once doubted that he loved you, despite handing you over to Feitan. Your hard work paid off when Feitan finally told Chrollo you were ready.

You were a mix of nervous excitement as Chrollo led you to his bedroom. The two of you went out to dinner to celebrate and now it was time to show him you could be the perfect girl for him. You knew Feitan taught you well, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

Chrollo’s lips found yours as you settled into the bed. Your lips moved against his with ease. You parted your mouth slightly, allowing your tongues to swirl together.

“Take your clothes off, my love,” Chrollo whispered in your ear.

“Yes sir,” you replied. You slid out go your dress, letting him admire the lingerie he bought for the occasion.

“All off.”

“Yes sir.”

Your cheeks flushed as you removed the final article of clothings covering you. Chrollo’s gaze was definitely softer than Feitan’s, but it still made your stomach flutter with nerves. You kept a brave face, letting him look without covering anything.

Chrollo smiled. “So beautiful,” he crawled on top of you, kissing your breasts. “My beautiful girl.” He sucked at the skin, in a way that would definitely leave a mark. “And all mine.” He continued kissing, sucking, licking up your chest and neck. You slid your hands through his hair, pressing your body into his touch. Chrollo hummed approvingly. “I allowed Feitan to touch you, but you’re mine. Everyone will know it. You want that right, baby? To be mine?”

“Yes!” you practically cried out as he sucked on a sensitive part of your neck. “’M all yours. Only yours.”

“Good girl,” he purred. He kissed you again as his hand traveled down you body. You slid your thighs open, allowing him access to your throbbing cunt. His fingers slid through you, letting your arousal coat them. “Soaked for me already? Didn’t realize you were so desperate for me.”

“Need you so b-oh,” your sentence died off in a moan as he pressed a finger inside you.

“What's that? I didn’t hear you,” Chrollo mused, pumping his fingers in you. He curled his finger against your sensitive spot, which had you mewling.

“N-need you so bad!” you cried. His thumb made contact with your clit, making your body jolt. Your thighs instinctively wanted to close from the pleasure, but you kept them open, as you knew he wanted.

“Think I wanna taste this pretty pussy. Would you like that, y/n? What my mouth on your cunt?” Chrollo asked, toying with your pussy.

“Yes sir! Want it, want whatever you want,” you replied breathlessly.

Chrollo smiled, loving your desperation, how it was clear you would let him do anything he wanted. He laid between your legs, licking a stripe up your pussy. “Mmm, so sweet.” He went straight to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. You didn’t stifle your moans at all. Your hands slid through his hair again, running your nails along the scalp. Chrollo let his tongue tease your hole, while his finger took over at your clit. You rolled your hips into him, grinding your pussy against his face just as Feitan told you to.

Chrollo’s tongue and fingers switched places. He fucked you with his fingers more intensely, giving your pussy a nice stretch.

“P-please, can I cum?” you questioned, trying to desperately to hold on. You did not want to cum before you were allowed. That was a big no.

Chrollo smiled. “Because you asked so nicely.” Your body responded immediately, releasing on his face. Your cried out his name as his tongue flicked your clit through your orgasm. Feitan had made you feel good, but Chrollo made you feel amazing. You knew your love for him made it so much better.

Chrollo sat up, appraising your body. He loved the power of you being naked and him being dressed. He loved that he could already see bruises forming on your neck. How you already looked fucked out from just his tongue. How you were looking up at him, desperate for more, but waiting for him to tell you what to do. He made a mental note to thank Feitan again.

“Undress me.”

You complied immediately. “Yes, sir.” Your body was weak from your orgasm, your hands shaking. Chrollo was amused by how your were so desperate for him that you struggled with he buttons on his shirt. You planted kisses down his body as you removed his clothing, another lesson from Feitan. When he was finally naked, you sat back and waited for his instruction.

Chrollo climbed back on top of you and you parted your legs for him dutifully. He teased his type at your hole. “Beg for it.”

“Please Chrollo! Want you so bad,” You begged, “Need you. Only you. Please let me make you feel good!”

Chrollo made a noise of approval. “Such a good girl for me.” He slid his cock into you, making you gasp. He was definitely a little bigger than Feitan, giving you a stretch. He pushed himself in slower than Feitan did, but didn’t give you much time to adjust. He rolled his hips against your yours, his paces quickly increasing.

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip. You parted your lips, allowing him to slip the digit in. You sucked on it, keeping your eyes on his. You could feel Chrollo’s cock throb, egging you on. You began rolling your hips up to meet his, just like Feitan taught you.

“Fuck, I love you angel,” Chrollo groaned, “Knew you’d be my perfect girl.” He slipped his thumb out of your mouth, but kept his hand wrapped around your throat. You moaned, despite his grip getting tighter around you. That combined with him pounding into your pussy made you teeter close to edge.

“Chrollo I-nngh ‘m close,” you gasped. “Please can I cum?”

Chrollo dipped in to kiss you before responded, “Yes baby. Cum on my cock.” Your head lolled back as your second orgasm flooded your body. His name slipped from your lips in a desperate moan as the pleasure had you seeing stars. Chrollo fucked you through it, your spasming walls eventually pushing him over the edge. He moaned your name - the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard - filling your pussy with his warm release. His final way to fully claim you as his.

He didn’t pull out even when you both finished, leaning in to kiss you more. “I love you so much, you were so perfect,” he praised between kiss. “And now you’re mine. Forever.”

#I didn't know how to end it #so slay #hope you enjoyed #bc this was hard to write for some reason #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #chrollo smut #chrollo hcs #chrollo x y/n #feitan smut #feitan x reader #feitan hc #feitan headcanons #hxh x reader #hxh smut #hxh headcanons

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tsunami-of-tears · 2 months

Text

Wingspans

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 5 (Favourite Tropes)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Y/N is eager to learn more about the Illyrians - for healing purposes of course.

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 3.2K

A/N: I had an idea and it ran away from me, hence the title change.

This entire week features some of my favourite tropes (idiots in love and everyone else can see it, aphrodisiacs, friends to lovers, etc) but I’ve focused on wings for this part, along with one bed at the end for a treat 😘

Warnings: wing clipping; female healthcare issues; allusion to domestic abuse; domestic mate stuff; multiple smut scenes (wingplay, PiV, double penetration).

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

For as long as you can remember, you’ve been fascinated with wings.

Every pair you’ve come across has been uniquely beautiful and awe-inspiring, but the thing you envied most about winged fae was their ability to fly.

You have your father to thank for that - for inheriting the call of the wind. A call you’d never been able to answer.

Now, thanks to the Cauldron, you were blessed with two winged mates.

The three of you had been edging around the bond since it snapped a few weeks ago. It hadn’t been formally accepted yet as you all agreed to get comfortable with the dynamic first.

Since you started courting Cassian and Azriel, your fascination with their wings only grew.

You would watch how the strong muscles flex as they carried you in the sky. You would admire them stretching out in the warmth of the sun.

You also started to notice the little quirks both of your mates had.

When they are cold, they tuck their wings in closer to their frame; when Azriel is proud of something, he holds his wings up higher; and when Cassian laughs, his wings flutter as his shoulders rise and fall.

There’s also the quirks during sex.

The subtle twitch and the slight curling of the outer edges as they reach their climax.

Learning about how their wings worked would only make you a better healer, so you spend your limited free time pouring over medical journals and reading Madja’s notes from over the years. The theory was a good foundation, but the best way for you to learn is with practical experiences.

The first time you got to touch them was with Azriel. He had caught you staring at his wings.

He was training on the rooftop of the House of Wind, his wings were fully extended behind him. The sunlight glowed red through the thin membrane. They were captivating.

A few shadows hurry over to greet you, like a playful puppy nipping at your feet.

Azriel turns, smiling at you and catches your gaze. “What are you staring at?” he smirks.

“Your wings are mesmerising,” you say softly.

Azriel stretches them out wider for you, showing off his wingspan before giving you a wink and returning to his training.

He stopped by your clinic later where you were reading through a detailed tome about wing physiotherapy. You were so engrossed in the text, that you didn’t see him slip in.

You jump when you finally notice him towering above you. “Cauldron, you scared me Az.”

“I’m sorry, you make a cute face when you're concentrating, I didn’t want to interrupt. What are you reading?” Azriel walks around to your side of the desk, looking down at the scrawled handwriting filling the pages in your hands. He smirks down at you. “Is there a particular reason that you’re so obsessed with wingspans, Y/N?”

Your cheeks heat, and you look up at Azriel. “I want to be prepared… If the need arises.” You glance at the sharp talons poking over your mate’s broad shoulders.

He leans down and flicks through a few pages of the tome. “The diagrams are good but it’s not quite the same,” he says. “Do you want to examine my wings?”

“Are you sure? I know they are quite sensitive. I don’t want to cross any line.”

The corners of his mouth curl upwards at your apprehension. “It is in my favour to help you, so you can heal me if need be. But, there’s no one I trust more.”

————

Azriel had removed his shirt, allowing you access to his back and wings. His wings were spread, the leathery membrane taut between each bone. Your fingertips delicately traced each ridge as Azriel expanded and contracted his muscles.

Your hands are warm with your healing magic as you gently stroke them against the sensitive skin. Azriel’s knuckles turn white as he grips the tabletop he’s braced against. You can tell it’s taking all of his self-control not to fuck you then and there.

When you ran the edge of his wing between your thumb and index finger, he snapped. Azriel spun around, grabbing your hips and lifting you onto the workbench behind you.

Azriel’s lips are on yours, hurried and hungry as he takes your lower lip between his teeth. You gasp against his mouth as he bites down before kissing along your jawline.

His hands roam your body, branding your flesh with need.

You fumble with the button on Azriel’s pants as he hikes up your dress and pushes your panties to the side. His fingers dip straight in, your core already soaked and throbbing.

You had known exactly what you were doing when you started examining his wings…

You finally free Azriel’s cock from the constraints of his leathers, and he grinds his hips against yours.

Your lips find each other again as he ruts into you; not waiting to let you adjust, you don’t need to. Your veins are filled with lust as he pounds into you. The steady rhythm combined with his thumb on your clit sends you over the edge.

One hand grips behind his neck tightly as you climax, and you reach with the other to run your fingers along the inside of his wing. That stroke was his undoing, and he finished deep inside you.

You feel his cock twitching as you stay in your embrace, regaining your breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, that was…” Azriel pants, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“That was a breach of the healer/patient relationship,” you laugh.

Azriel smirks, “You can take advantage of me any day, angel.”

————

The next time, you tried it with Cassian.

He was underneath you as you rode him. Your hands flat on his chest for support as you rocked back and forth.

You looked at his wings splayed beneath him, and then to his eyes - a silent question.

“I’m all yours, you can touch anywhere you want, angel.

He grips your hips harder, lifting his to meet your thrusts.

You softly trace along a prominent vein and Cassian throws his head back, moaning loudly.

He thrusts up into you without abandon, hitting the spot that has you seeing stars and reaching your climax together.

The sound of your breathing fills the room as you lay down in Cassian’s arms. Your head resting on his chest. He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll never tire of this,” he whispers against your hair.

————

Soon after that fateful training exercise, you began working closely with the Valkyries. If any conflict arose, you’d be stationed with them as a healer. The all-female unit had grown to 50 warriors in the years since its revival. With Nesta now residing in Autumn with Eris, the unit is led by Gwyn and Emerie.

The first time you met Emerie, your heart broke.

Her wings were nothing like the mighty appendages held high by your mates.

They were beautiful but brutal.

Thick jagged scars cut across the planes of her wings, starting at the very base. Her wings had very limited movement, and on cold mornings, you notice a slight twinge in the left one.

Still, Emerie carried herself proudly with her wings as tall as she could manage. A true Valkyrie.

After observing her from afar, your research changed direction. You were driven by your new purpose - helping your friend and the countless females like her.

There were limited existing resources on clipped wings, so you proposed a clinical study to Rhys. He issued approval instantly and, to Lord Devlin’s dismay, he set up a clinic in Windhaven for you to meet with patients.

Many females were scared to visit you, out of fear of retaliation from their husbands and fathers. But there were still many brave souls who came forward, allowing you to examine them.

Progress was slow, but both the physical and emotional support you provided was making a difference.

————

Today you had a female visiting from another camp. You walk into the waiting room with a warm smile on your face. You’re always so proud to see new patients.

“Victoria? I’m Y/N, your new healer. Please come inside.” You say to the female.

She gives you a shy smile, lowering her gaze as she walks past you into your office.

“Thank you for making the trip to see me. I will do my best to help you, however I can. Take a seat on that cot there,” you gesture towards the bed in the middle of the room. You meet her eyes as you continue, your voice filled with sincerity. “I want you to remember this is entirely on your terms. I will only touch you, or offer treatment with your consent, do you understand?”

Victoria nods, brushing a single tear from her cheek at your words.

“Good. If it’s okay, I’d like to see the extent of the damage. Can you show me your range of movement?” You give Victoria an encouraging nod. “Lift, wonderful. Now lower them. You’re doing amazing. And now extend them as far as you can outwards - like you’re stretching.” You demonstrate with your arms, extending them out to the side.

Victoria’s wings shudder slightly as she strains to stretch them out but they barely shift.

“You’re doing so well, I know this is difficult. Can I touch you? I want to get a feel of the scarring if that’s okay.”

She nods hesitantly.

“If you want me to stop at any time, please tell me.”

“Okay,” she says. The first words you heard from her mouth.

“I’m just letting my magic get a sense of the damage, my hand might feel cool along the inner side of your wings.” You move to stand behind Victoria and start on the biggest scar. The tissue is jagged and bumpy, and as pale as the moon. Your healing magic flows through you, washing over the surface of the scar but unable to penetrate. This is the worst case of wing clipping you’ve seen so far. You aren’t sure how much movement she’ll be able to regain, but you have to try.

You walk around the cot to face her and finish your consultation, asking all your standard questions about pain and mobility.

You pick up a glass jar filled with a numbing salve. “I’d like you to start by applying this to the scars once a day.” You demonstrate the amount of product to apply before handing over the jar. “If you’re particularly sore you can apply it a second time. You may need some help reaching around the back, do you have someone at home that you trust?”

“I live with my sister and her family. She’ll help,” Victoria says.

“Okay good, if you do need somewhere to stay during the treatment, it can be arranged. And if you don’t feel safe, we can help with that too.”

Victoria nods in thanks.

“I’ll see you again in 4 weeks. If you run out of the salve, send word.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Victoria smiles at you, looking more hopeful than when she first arrived. You help her into her coat and escort her out of the clinic.

Once outside, you look up and see the sky is swirling with storm clouds and the sun is just about to dip behind the mountains. The wind howls through the surrounding trees. A big gust hits you and you feel the ice in your very bones.

You bid goodbye to Victoria and trudge home. On clinic days you often stay in Rhys’s mother’s cabin with your mates.

Warmth envelops you as you step over the threshold, along with the smell of your mates and a hot dinner.

You kick off your boots and giggle as shadows help you with your coat. Cassian is standing over the stove as Azriel sets the table. Azriel stops what he’s doing to kiss you hello.

“How was your day, angel?” Azriel asks.

“It was good. I had a new patient, it always breaks my heart to see the trauma that’s been inflicted.” You instinctively reach for Azriel’s hand, stroking the back with your thumb. “I hope I can ease that pain, even just a little bit.”

“You’re doing such great things,” Cassian says, juggling the three bowls and a bottle of wine. You and Azriel quickly reach out to help him and sit down together.

“We’re so proud of you,” Azriel states, adoration across his face.

You smile back. “I do have you both to thank for all of this. I’ve worked with many kinds of wings before, but I think yours are the most fascinating.”

“What kinds of wings?” Cassian asks.

“Well, in Spring, many faeries have wings similar to insects. They are very delicate but they don’t have the same soft tissue and nerve ends. Then there are the Peregryns, they have fewer bones in their wings than Illyrians - but the feathers…” You laugh. “If you think Illyrians are protective of their wings, you should see a Peregryn if you touch their feathers.”

Azriel gives you a curious look, “Do you have much experience with Peregryns?”

“Mostly just my father, but I didn’t get to see him very often,” you answer plainly. Cassian nearly chokes on the wine he was sipping and Azriel’s eyes widen in shock.

“How have you never mentioned this?” Cassian asks you incredulously.

“I don’t know, it hasn’t come up. Obviously, I didn’t inherit any physical characteristics. I didn’t think it was important,” you shrug.

“Every part of your history is important,” Azriel says with complete sincerity.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intentionally keep it from you.”

“I guess that explains how you took to flying so quickly,” Cassian remarks.

You shake your head at your mates as you return to your meal.

You finish up the cozy evening with Cassian and Azriel who had many questions for you about different wingspans. Namely, which race has the biggest. Even if it wasn’t the truth, you would have said Illyrians.

————

A few weeks later, Winter had well and truly arrived.

You’re in a distant Illyrian camp making some supply drops and home visits. Both Cassian and Azriel join you, using any excuse to spend more time with you.

It’s a relatively small camp, you have a handful of patients here so it’s only meant to be a quick stop. But, as the afternoon progresses, the weather takes a turn for the worse.

“We’ll have to stay here overnight,” Cassian says. “We can’t risk flying in a storm and Azriel can’t winnow with both of us.”

Fortunately, there is a rundown but warm inn just outside of the camp. Unfortunately, with the incoming snowstorm, all of the rooms are booked. All but one.

You enter the tiny room behind your mates who both need to bow their heads to fit inside. It would be a cramped lodging for two high fae but with three of you plus two pairs of wings…

Cramped is a severe understatement.

————

You get ready for bed as best as you can, manoeuvring around each other with great difficulty.

Finally you settle in, comforted by the warmth seeping into you from both sides.

The bond is still new, you’ve not been in such close proximity to your mates, with so few layers between you and not touched them.

The heat radiating off both Cassian and Azriel was driving you wild. And based on their strong scents, it was having the same effect on them.

Cassian’s groans break the silence. “Godsdamnit, Y/N. You’ll be the death of me.”

“I’m not doing anything!” You exclaim.

“That’s the point,” Cassian chuckles.

You decide to tease him further by pushing your butt back against him, rubbing against his hardening length.

Cassian groans again and wraps his arms around your waist, hands groping your breasts. Azriel leans on his forearm and locks eyes with you. You gasp as Cassian pinches your firm nipples and starts nipping at your earlobe. Cassian’s hand starts to trail lower, and you can’t hold in your moan as it slips down to your core, dragging through your growing wetness.

Desire overwhelms your senses. You don’t care about the space or lack thereof. You need your mates.

Azriel starts to palm himself, moaning softly as you send images down the twin bonds. Images of how you want them.

“Are you sure, angel?” Cassian whispers into your ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean further into his embrace, “I’m sure. I need you both.”

You sit up and straddle Azriel, grinding your dripping slit against him. Azriel holds your hips firmly, pushing you down to provide more friction for both of you.

You look over at Cassian with slightly glazed eyes. You nod at him, confirming your desire.

He kneels on the bed behind you, there’s just enough room that he doesn’t hit his head on the low support beam. He squeezes your ass as he kisses down the side of your neck. Azriel starts circling your clit with his thumb as you continue to rock on top of him.

You lean forward slightly, hands braced on Azriel’s chest as Cassian drags his cock along your slit, collecting your arousal.

Azriel positions himself at your entrance as Cassian lines up at your rear.

“Are you quite sure, angel?” Cassian asks again.

“Yes… Please,” you whine softly.

Azriel lowers your hips, burying himself inside you as you both moan at the tightness. Your eyes flutter at how full you feel, and Cassian hasn’t penetrated you yet.

You feel pressure against your rear as Cassian pushes against you. “Are you ready?” He asks.

You nod in answer, already struggling for words.

Azriel resumes his steady circles as Cassian pushes into you. The stretching sensation is so intense you let out a strangled cry. “Are you okay?” Cassian asks.

“Yep, I just need a moment to adjust.”

Cassian resumes kissing your jaw as your body gets used to the full feeling.

“I’m ready,” you say and Cassian starts to slowly move in and out.

Azriel starts thrusting, matching Cassian’s timing.

“So full,” you moan, your eyes rolling back into your head as the pleasure overwhelms you.

With each thrust, your clit rubs against Azriel’s groin, bringing you closer and closer to that sweet release.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last long,” Azriel pants. Cassian moans in agreeance.

Your fingers gravitate to your nipples, pinching the sensitive nubs as you’re hurled to the finish line.

“Cum for us, angel,” Azriel commands, and you do.

You cry out as you hit your climax, louder than usual. Both your holes clench as your mates wring scream after scream of pleasure from you.

They both follow closely behind as you grip them tightly. As the moans and cries subside, the room is filled with the sound of panting.

Cassian pulls out of you first, collapsing beside Azriel.

Azriel helps lift you off of him and nestles you in between himself and Cassian. He kisses you lovingly as Cassian’s hand dips between your legs - using a washcloth to clean you up.

Once clean, he pulls you close to his chest and wraps his wings around you and Azriel.

Feeling content in your bubble with your mates, sleep finds you and takes you into its loving embrace.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @therealmoonstone

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d5 #poly!acotar #cazriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf

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ceridescent · 1 year

Text

mommy’s got you — m., wanda

wanda maximoff! x female!reader

summary: wanda helps you de-stress.

tags: smut and fluff

warning/s: dom/sub dynamics, md/lg, mommy kink, praise, vaginal fingering, breast play, slapping, dumbification, & aftercare.

word count: 1, 727

author’s note: dedicating this to all the stressed, drained, and burnt out college girlies! 🫡 go get them degree lovelies 😝

18+ only. men and minors DNI.

masterlist | navigation

“mommy’s going in now, sweetheart,” wanda’s velvety voice rings in your ears as she pushes her middle finger in slowly, sloshing their way into your hole. a deep breath you exhaled, closing your eyes, relishing the feeling of her slender fingers and the crisp of them. “is this okay, moya lyubov?”

you hum, unable to speak, your mind cloudy, the words and phrases dying out. “just relax, okay? i’m here,” wanda reassures whilst she rubs her thumb against your clitoris, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from your drying throat. you bob your head in understanding, giving her full permission.

“midterms sucked ass, huh? my poor little thing,” she cooes, “you’re so exhausted. your body was so stiff and tense when i gave you a massage!” your mommy squeezes your inner thigh for emphasis, coming off slick and wet with your juices. “but they’re placid now,” she licks her lips, “so thick and flowy, my baby.”

wanda had been teasing you since dinner time, coming home to the smell of the classic french bouillabaisse you had been wanting to make for a while. distorted and exhausted from the last hour of your midterms, your girlfriend made sure to congratulate you and pamper you for being a committed college student. wanda provided you everything, from the dining utensils to spoiling you with her undivided attention.

placing her hand on your thigh, playing with the hem of your skirt, whilst asking about the taste of her cooking. she never once mentioned about your studies, aware that it’ll worry you more. when wanda came back to hand you the dessert, she watched intently as you licked and sucked the ice cream clear off the spoon, squeezing your inner thighs and massaging them, her patience running thin.

when you fought hard (weakly due to being drained) to deal with the dirty dishes, she let you, but not without accidentally (purposely) brushing her hands against your bum, which you believe it was, until wanda pressed herself against you, humping your clothed back.

“‘m so tired, mommy,” you slur, her words floating inside your clouding brain. your dozing eyes slowly flutters close, heavy lidded eyes begging you to shut down. but wanda, your darling woman, has to release the stress corrupting your body before anything else follows. it will make you feel better, relaxed, somnolent. she leaves a chaste kiss on your flushed cheeks, sighing in content and concern.

“i know, my little one. mommy knows you’re so tired by working so hard, my good girl,” she hums, gliding her hand along the plane of your stomach, electrifying your skin. “hence the fancy homemade dinner, the yummy dessert you enjoyed, and now this,” wanda’s voice turns muffled as she peppers your tummy with kisses, making them wet and warm as much as possible. “so just lie back, get comfy. let mommy think for you.”

“t-thank you mommy,” you yawn and blink back tears, whimpering as wanda twists your right nipple, observing your reaction like she’s doing an experiment. “one day,” she starts slowly, as if softening a surprise, “mommy will make your nipples come,”

you shiver, your legs shaking at the thought of your mommy playing with your tits, grabbing her hair or her back to ground yourself. “mommy’s going to have so much fun drinking your milk, baby,”

whining, you could only nod your head, small moans coming out of your opened mouth.

“but for now, my baby has to lay back and rest, take mommy’s fingers.”

your girlfriend latches her lips onto yours, moving her tongue against yours in a slow tango. she drinks all your moans and whimpers, pressing you onto the mattress, her fingers penetrating slow as a snail. you can’t complain about it, falling into the abyss, falling into her. your brain clouds all your remaining thoughts but her.

wanda is the only one that keeps you in the present moment, holding you down.

when she pulls away, she’s grinning down at you while biting her lips, nothing but adoration in her eyes. she smacks her lips against your cheeks to interrupt you from dozing, your eyes fluttering close like a butterfly’s wings. it helps a bit, you know, along with her fingers spreading your sopping hole, stretching you out in pleasure.

“feeling much better, my honeybunch?”

you giggle, shaking your head, mewling a little “no.” “no what?” wanda retorts teasingly, lightly slapping your thigh, “is mommy not making you feel better?” halting the motion of her fingers.

“no, mommy, please mommy,” you whine, shaking your head, barely able to lift your hips upwards no matter how strenuous your efforts were. “‘m not honeybunch,”

“what are you then?” wanda huffs, resuming, fastening her pace. “ah!” you scream and fling your hands to hold onto wanda’s wrist, whimpering multiple “mommy”’s. she asks you again, almost breathless. “what are you, huh?”

“‘m mommy’s princess…” you cry, meeting wanda’s fingers as she supports your lower back, pressing them upwards so you can feel her fingers plunging into you deeper.

“mommy’s princess you say…” wanda chuckles, trailing off, her gaze sharpening at the perspiration that falls down the dip in the middle of your stomach. this time she nibbles against your skin, looking up at your pleasured face, preciously distorted and almost there. her own clitoris throbs, wetting her thong, in awe of your half-asleep, baby face.

“who do you belong to, princess?” wanda whines, trailing open-mouthed kisses up your neck, unable to get enough. she could swallow you whole at this point, with her never-ending penetration and wet kisses.

you want to tell wanda it’s her, it’s true, but you can’t, words turning into moans as you try to utter it out of your mouth.

“do you need mommy’s help, princess? tell you who you belong to?”

“gah! mommy! mommy!” you sob, tears cascading down your cheeks, your head reeling like it’s falling apart, your skin scorching, your legs shaking so much. wanda pecks your cheeks, groans erupting from her throat, never messing up her tempo.

“is that a yes, my precious one?” wanda chuckles, watching the mess you have become, having you at the palm of her hand. a particular scream rings inside the bedroom when she thumbs your clit, rubbing it in circles, aware that you’re about to come.

“n-no- no-m-mo-“ you whine and give up on articulating your thoughts and instead you thrust your hips upwards so you can make your mommy hit you harder on your g-spot, but it doesn’t work, and you’re too spent and messed up to find out why.

“say, i belong to mommy. i am mommy’s princess.”

as you nod your head, wanda imitates, “say it, be a good girl,” pounding in her two fingers harder, every thrust your mommy makes a deep moan escapes from her. she drives you into your apex, and when you think it couldn’t get any better, wanda curls her fingers mercilessly, hitting your spot wave after wave like she’s dealing with a punching bag.

“i-i belong to mommy! please, plea- i am m-mommy’s princess!”

wanda lets out an animalistic growl, “that’s right, mommy owns you. mommy owns this pussy,” slapping your pussy, a resounding thwack coming off at the motion, your cries echoing inside the four walls of your shared apartment. it surely is music to wanda’s ears. “mommy owns these gorgeous tits,” wanda strikes them before putting your tits inside her hungry mouth in a tight grip, sucking as loudly as she possibly can, moaning along with the fullness and the noises that you let out. she lets them go with a pop, saliva connecting with the tip and her swollen lips.

smirking as you shake your head, your lower body stilling at the exhaustion, only able to do little thrusts to meet her. she continues, “mommy owns these lips too, both of them,” devouring your cusps in a passionate kiss, harsh and sloppy, at the brink of losing herself in the moment of claiming you.

“mommy!” you sob, “m-mommy!” breathing hotly in wanda’s mouth, coming apart in a perfect arch, blissfully bucking your hips up as she grips tight around your bruising waist, “that’s it, that’s it detka,” mumbling into your mouth in return.

wanda drags it out, cooing and purring words of affirmation as you cried out for her, brushing the strands of hair that blocks your face, tucking them in your ear. “mommy’s here, moy malen'kiy golub'. mommy’s got you,” she whispers against your cheek, exchanging with you a butterfly kiss.

you hum, catching your breath, your eyes no longer awake. wanda peppers your cheeks with light kisses to distract you from pulling her fingers out of your pussy, moaning silently as she loses your warmth. taking her wet fingers to clean off your cum, she clamps around them, savoring the delicious taste of you. “oh, moya lyubov,” she hums in delight.

slowly sliding her hand below to reach for your clammy hand, your mommy unlatches your fingers from the blanket, intertwining your fingers together.

“hi,” she begins timidly, laying herself on top of your naked form, poking your nose with a kiss. you scrunch it in the process, goosebumps flaring from your back down to your stomach. “hi, mommy,” you respond in your little, raspy voice, dizzying.

“moy malysh, you did so good. my sweet, sweet girl, you deserve loads and loads of rest,” wanda rasps in her mommy voice, caressing the crook of your arm with her thumb, nuzzling your jaw. she lets you know her plan to “i’ll pull away for a moment, okay? i don’t want to squeeze moy malysh,” and even so you whine and cry her name, loneliness creeping through.

“i’m here, mommy’s here,” she pacifies you with a purr, occupying her space on top of you, grinning softly as she takes your hand midair and places grumpy bear in your hold.

“grumpie!” you gasp, squeezing the fuzzball, hugging him in your chest. “mommy!” you say in the way she understands your gratitude, mewling at the purity and tenderness of your contentment. “it’s your favorite stuffie, my princess, makes my princess sleep better” she cooes, giving you a peck on the lips.

“thank you, mommy,” you sigh, fluttering your eyes open for a second before completely succumbing to slumber.

“everything for you, moya printsessa,” wanda sighs with a soft smile, watching you sleep, listening to your silent snores.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel smut #wanda x you #wanda x reader #top!wanda

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luna-rainbow · 5 months

Text

Stucky AO3 stats 2023

This year I pulled both "Year Created" and "Year Updated". "Year Created" data should stay static, hence any changes would indicate people backdating their fics or deleting them. The "Year Updated" one is dynamic (i.e. long fics or slow updating fics could span several years). I think "Year Created" provides a better snapshot of historical fandom activity, while "Year Updated" better reflects current fandom engagement.

As of today (14/01/2024), there are a total of 65629 Steve/Bucky fics on AO3.

An impressive 86% of the fics are marked as complete! There are 880 fics over the 100k mark! The sweet spot seems to be the 1000-5000 word short stories, which comprise 28,935 works.

As we know, Stucky is a worldwide phenomenon, and while English makes up the bulk of stories, there are plenty of works in other languages too.

Whether you're after something sweet or fluffy or smut-free...or something dark or horny or violent, or something in between, there's something for everyone.

And what can I say...we really want a soft epilogue (fluff) for our boys, but it's the angst and hurt/comfort that keeps us coming back. And who doesn't love some good Shrinkyclinks.

Data disclaimers - Numbers may be inflated by any polyships that are tagged also with the individual pairing combinations. - Stucky may not be the primary ship in the works listed, nor necessarily the focus of the story - Data is pulled from a logged in account. If people have blocked me or muted me that's always a possible source of error - The "year created" data is pulled from today, so any works deleted before today (and I know there has been quite a bit in the past few years) would not be reflected

#fandom stats #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky fanfiction

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pimosworld · 7 months

Text

Down the rabbit hole

Kinktober prompt-Group sex/Orgy/Costumes

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

CW18+,MDNI,NSFW,EstablishedPolyamorous Relationship,Fluff,Teasing,Smut,Coercion,BribeCostumes, Hints at Roleplay, Fingering,Oral f receiving,Oral m receiving, mentions of MM dynamics, unprotected p i v, anal, cream pie,anal cream pie(don’t look at me)

WK-4.8k

A/N- In the story of us universe but can be read as a stand-alone. I definitely could’ve added more smut but I’m not done with this group just yet.

Not beta read

[Main Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

“We have to do a group costume please….please.”

“Cariño, whining isn’t going to change my mind.”

You huff out in frustration as Frankie tries to conceal his laughter. You and Santi had been going at it for a while as you tried and failed to convince him of what you’d already got the other three to agree to after some unfair persuasion tactics.

“Sweetheart he’s just mad you want him to be the cat.” Will chimes in from the loveseat as you all sit in the living room.He says it with such disdain that you know he’s not helping your case in any way. Alice in Wonderland, is long paused on the tv because Santi decided half way through he was not going to be the Cheshire Cat.

“How did you all even agree to this?” Santiago still looked gorgeous despite the permanent scowl that worked its way onto his face throughout the conversation.

Benny sits up from the floor stretching his long arms over his head. “Well besides for the fact that the rabbit is the coolest character, I got one the best massages of my entire life after my fight last week.”

“Weak.” Santi scoffs as he places your feet in his lap. His actions are the complete opposite of his tone.

“You’re just jealous.” You’re flattered at Ben's enthusiasm but you know it’ll take more than a massage to convince Santiago to wear a costume. You gave him frequent massages that always led to something else and of course he knows that…hence the smirk etched on his face as he silently rubs your feet.

“What about you iron head? How the hell did she convince you to be a caterpillar?” Everyone chuckles at the hilarity of it all because how? This stoic and mostly reserved ex military man was going to dress up as a caterpillar for you.

“He’s actually the best character, way better than a rabbit.” He ducks as the pillow Ben throws from the floor narrowly misses his head. “I may have got a lap dance.” The rest audibly groan. “I also get to smoke.”

“Okay rub it in some more.”

“I’m not the one who caved for a massage.”

The brothers continue to bicker as you shift in Frankie’s arms to look at Santi. He’s got the look on his face, the annoying toothy smile… the reason you wanted him to be the cat in the first place. That look that says it's gonna take more than that. It’s your own fault really…you were showing off some clothes you bought the other day when he told you to strip. You thought he was joking at first but the way he looked at you, you couldn’t help but do whatever he asked.

Your impromptu strip tease turned into another impromptu lap dance. Which of course always turns into something more because this is Santiago Garcia.

“Sooo hermano that just leaves you. I’m sure all she had to do was look at you and you caved.” The men laugh but you know as soon as Frankie shifts behind you he’s thinking about the other night.

Frankie leans in pushing you closer to Santi “For your information I got to put it in her…” You elbow his stomach before he can finish his sentence. It’s too late as you watch the grin on Santi’s face grow even wider somehow.

“I heard that Fish.” Ben’s sitting up again looking at you with a mixture of shock and awe.

“Sweetheart…I mean this in the nicest way possible but how?” Santi and Frankie are cackling at Will's response as you lean back into Frankie covering your face with your hands. Your body is on fire from the attention placed on you at this moment.

“With much preparation.” He whispers into your ear as he squeezes your side. You can’t help but think about how he took his time and worked you open. Whispering praise into your ear as he did, of course in your lust filled haze you hadn’t realized how he knew exactly what to say and do. Like he had been given a playbook on all the things that made you tick. How you would keen under the praise and melt into his touch.

He would only know this because Santiago had already done it and told him step by step instructions as if it were a mission and for Frankie it was a successful one. He would don any ridiculous costume for the rest of his life if it meant he could hear you make those sounds again.

“I’d like to add that the Mad Hatter is the number one character…and I get to wear my standard oil hat underneath.”

“Oh my god babe you gave him everything.” Ben’s dramatics have everyone buckled over in laughter. You try to regain your composure as you wipe the tears from your eyes.

Santi leans toward the coffee table to grab the remote, you can just see the wheels turning in his head as he thinks it over.

“As wonderful as all that sounds…I’m still not convinced.” He presses play on the movie as you sigh and drop your head back onto Frankie’s lap, he rubs your arm sympathetically as you stare up at the ceiling wondering how his mother ever put up with him. He lived and breathed to be difficult it seemed. You think he may even secretly get off on it.

“At least you tried hermosa.” Frankie leans down planting a kiss on your forehead, no doubt pleased with the outcome either way. Everyone got what they wanted except for you.

The boys are suddenly so enthralled with Alice in Wonderland while your mind wanders. With Santi things were never simple, you had to make it exciting or he would lose interest in whatever it was you were trying to accomplish. He may not even realize he does it but you think it’s his way of coping with not being in the military anymore. You know what makes him tick, anything that requires a challenge or a puzzle to solve.

Alice: Why, why you’re a cat!

Cheshire Cat: A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves…

Alice: Oh, wait! Don’t go, please!

Cheshire Cat: Very well. Third chorus…

Alice: Oh no no no… thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go.

Cheshire Cat: Well, that depends on where you want to get to.

Alice: Oh, it really doesn’t matter, as long as I g…

Cheshire Cat: Then it really doesn’t matter which way you go! Ah-hmm… and the momeraths outgrabe… Oh, by the way, if you’d really like to know, he went that way.

Alice: Who did?

Cheshire Cat: The white rabbit.

Alice: He did?

Cheshire Cat: He did what?

Alice: Went that way?

Cheshire Cat: Who did?

Alice: The white rabbit!

Cheshire Cat: What rabbit?

Alice: But didn’t you just say… I mean… oh dear!

Santiago was indeed just as frustrating as the aforementioned character that you were unsuccessfully trying to make him dress up as. You’ve spent the last several months in happily uncharted territory since you finally put a title to what it was you all were. The boys had no issues sharing you, it seemed they were much happier doing that than seeing you unhappy with any guy you’ve ever tried being around.

You were all so close, there was never any animosity or jealousy…maybe some light hearted teasing when someone was feeling left out but you always managed to keep them all satisfied.

It’s a mad idea…but we’re all mad here.

You sit up abruptly,slightly startling then with your enthusiasm as you grab the remote from Santi’s lap pausing the movie again.

“I know you’re going to wear that costume.” He turns to look at you as if you’ve grown two heads.

“Oh is that so?”

“Yes that’s so.”

“Are you going to forcibly put it on me?” You shake your head as you bite your bottom lip.

“Remember that thing you said you wanted to try?”

“Cariño you’re going to need to be more specific.” You know it’s silent as the intrigue lingers in the air.

“You said when I was ready to just tell you…so I guess I’m saying I’m ready.” In all honesty you’ve been waiting for the right time to bring it up but you’ve been so nervous. This seems as good a time as any.

“I see what you’re doing here Alice but I don’t remember, you’re going to have to tell me.”

“Well we have two weeks until the party so if you figure it out let me know.” You press play on the movie again as you get comfortable. Now you can enjoy the rest of the movie while Santiago tries to decipher your riddle.

****

It’s really not fair

How you have all these men somehow wrapped around your finger. You try to ignore the looks you get when you’re all out together and they can’t keep their hands off you. You can see the wheels turning when someone tries to make out which one of them is yours. You’ve always been affectionate with one another but since putting a name to this it’s like the band aid of shame has been ripped off.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you sit nestled between Ben and Santiago in the back of Frankie’s Jeep. Frankie’s new boss insisted you all come to his annual Halloween party after meeting the guys and hitting it off with them. Meeting new people and attending such a large party in a ridiculous costume no less took some convincing but the past few days they’ve all been very agreeable.

Santi promised he'd wear the costume even though he couldn’t figure out the bribe. He said he would ‘since it was important to you’. That should’ve been your first indication that something was off.

Will is the stoic picture of perfection in the front seat next to Frankie as he twirls the unlit cigar in his hands. He wasn’t a man of many words and he jumped at the chance to be the aloof caterpillar.

“You look beautiful Honey.” He’s not even looking at you as he stares out the window watching the street lights. You’ll never get used to the flurry of his attention. The affection seemed to ooze out of his pores like he’s been waiting years to tell you how he felt about you.

You glance over at Santiago as his furry pink and purple sweater brushes your bare legs. You can tell he’s uncomfortable but he’s doing his best as he fidgets with the collar. His salt and pepper curls peak out adorably along the headband of the matching cat ears.

“I can feel you staring cariño.” You quickly avert your gaze to Ben who is doing some staring of his own. Since you came out of the room adorned in your flouncy powder blue dress with knee high white stockings he can’t seem to keep his eyes off you.

“I like this.” Ben grazes his finger just under the hem of your dress, lifting it slightly to reveal your thigh. You shift in the seat rubbing your legs together desperate for some relief. The last two weeks have been uncharacteristically lacking in the sex department which is nearly impossible when you’re sleeping with four people. His barely there touch has goosebumps rising along your skin as he threatens to touch you almost where you want him too.

“Ben.” Frankie warns from the driver's seat as he approaches a red light,he notices your desperation in the rear view mirror as you hang your head back in frustration.

“Just worry about the road, old man.” Ben flicks the back of his comically large hat placed atop his standard oil cap.

“I’ll show you old man.” He grits out through his teeth as he returns his attention to the now green light.

The tension in the air is thick, it has been since you left the house. You all decided to get ready together and seeing as though you moved into the Miller-Morales household a few months ago that only left Santi to bring his costume and an overnight bag. You had the feeling that conversations were being had without you even though not many words were spoken. It was reminiscent of the night before a mission. All of you lost deep in thought while meticulously going over the plans ahead.

The four of them had a way of communicating despite all your years spent together that you just couldn’t seem to tap into. You couldn’t shake the nagging feeling like you had been left out of this one.

You pull down an unfamiliar street lined with massive homes, certainly less modest than the one you currently resided in. You assume most of the cars you pass are for the party and your excitement bubbles over into nervousness as you realize how many people may be in this house. The men all seem completely fine…almost unaware.

Frankie parks and exits along with Will and Benny without so much as a word being said. You turn to slide out Santiago’s side but he hasn’t moved. You think he’s having second thoughts about going in with this ridiculous costume.

“Listen if you don’t want to wear the ears -.” He cuts you off with his fingers placed gently on your lips. He smiles wide as if channeling his character for the night as he trails them down along your jaw. His other hand is wrapped around your shoulder teasing the top of your sweetheart neckline.

You’re already one edge with this being the most physical contact you’ve had in weeks. He leans in placing feather light kisses along your neck as his hand makes its way further down. He traces the path Ben once did as he lifts your skirt higher, his firm grip on the inside of your thigh when he bites down gently on your pulse point.

You don’t miss the way he chuckles in your ear as you shudder a breath when he drags his fingers along the seam of your panties nearly soaked from just the anticipation.

“I figured it out a couple days ago.” He rasps into your ear as he continues teasing. You’re trying to focus on his words but you think you could come like this from his barely there touch. “You told us we needed to learn how to share.”

In reality this is your fault, it was your suggestion after all when date nights kept overlapping. They never made you feel bad or acted jealous of one another, but you couldn’t help but think how unfair it was to split your time so often.

“We could all go on a group date?”

“We already have group dates, sweetheart.”

“Yes… but I mean it doesn’t have to end with the date.”

That was months ago and you thought he had all but forgotten or maybe he suggested it and no one else was down for it. Either way you dropped it until you realized you’ve been tricked. Santiago knew he had to raise the steaks in order to agree to this and you fell right for it.

“You have a few hours to decide what you want to do. Just say the word and we’ll leave.” You’re speechless as he withdraws his hand and it’s as if a bucket of cold water was dumped on your head. The humid air as he opens the door is a stark contrast to your chilled exterior.

“Alice?” He’s standing next to the door ajar with his hand out to help you down, you quickly smooth down your skirt as you grip his hand and hop down.

‘Every adventure requires a first step.’ Cheshire cat

****

It’s not that you aren’t having fun…it’s just you can’t stop thinking about what’s to come-no pun intended. After introductions everyone instinctually split up. Frankie roped into schmoozing with his boss while Ben found a partner to play beer pong, some jock dressed as Ken seemed fitting for the younger miller.

Santiago had made eyes at you when you saw him cornered by Barbie, there wasn’t a jealous bone in your body as you watched the poor girl talking his ear off as he stalked you like his prey. He teased you enough for you to let him flounder his way out of the conversation. If there was anything he hated more in this world it was pretending to be interested in a topic he could care less about.

You were plenty buzzed as you wandered aimlessly through this extravagant house, the furniture and fixtures much too gaudy for your preference .Gold plated frames lined the walls as you climbed the spiral staircase to explore the upstairs. You drag your fingers along the banister as you stare up at the three tier chandelier above the entryway.Apparently running a private helicopter business paid very well…unfortunately money didn’t buy good taste.

Your eyes are drawn to the red carpet lining the hallway as you peak into the first room on the left. A large Victorian bed with a gold frame is in the middle of the room. Next to it is a floor to ceiling mirror with a slightly beveled curve, the room in its reflection is a little distorted as you lean in further gripping the door handle to keep yourself steady.

Either you’ve had too much to drink or the floor is caving in. Strong hands grip your waist just as you’re prepared to meet face to face with the awful carpet. The wind is nearly knocked out if you as your back is met with a hard surface and you feel like your head is in a tailspin as you’re whipped around to meet your savior.

You’re met with the soft chocolate brown eyes of Frankie as he walks you backwards further into the room. The smirk on his face as he raises his eyebrows at you because surely he caught you snooping about his boss’s house while you were supposed to be enjoying the party.

“Find what you were looking for Alice?” His eyes roamed up and down your body as he stopped you just before the foot of the bed.

You realize you haven’t spoken in awhile as you try to answer and manage a squeak. You clear your throat slightly embarrassed after being caught and scramble for any words to come to mind. It doesn’t help when he’s looking at you that way or when he presses against you with his arm caging you in. You can feel his arousal through the thin fabric of your dress as he cups your ass pulling you impossibly closer to him.

He leans in and you close your eyes waiting for a kiss that never comes as he drops down to his knees. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties as he slides them down your thighs. A soft whimper of his name leaves your lips and the thought of someone walking in is completely drowned out in your horny brain when all you can think about is his deft tongue working you open on no doubt his boss’s bed.

He taps your leg silently instructing you to step out of them as he balls it up in his fist and places it in his pocket. His breath is hot on your stomach through the fabric as you place your hands on his shoulders for purchase. You’re trying to be patient but you’re pulled taught after the teasing from Santiago in the car.

An inaudible whine leaves your mouth as he stands again and places a soft kiss to your forehead. “Shh it’s gonna be ok.” It most certainly won’t be.

“Frankie, where are you going?” The look on his face says isn’t it obvious as he grabs your hand and makes his way towards the door without an answer.”

“Frankie…where’s your hat?” He points to the standard oil cap as if that’s the one you were asking about as you huff out in frustration.

They are having way too much fun.

****

When you finally returned to the party Ken had decidedly had enough of Barbie flirting with Santiago and ditched Ben.

Ben managed to find someone he could talk to about his upcoming fights and Will was still nowhere to be found. Frankie and Santi looked like they were having a serious conversation in the kitchen and their eyes on you were suddenly too much. You needed some fresh air as you stepped out on the back deck. Of course there seemed to be no place that wasn’t occupied with guests, as you say your excuse me’a and make your way down the steps to find a modicum of privacy.

The smokey sweet aroma of tobacco and chocolate permeates your senses as you follow the trail coming from around the house. Will is leaned back, head against the wall with one leg propped up as he stares up at the rings disappearing into the clear night sky.

He holds out his hand and you hesitate, you’re not sure you could take anymore moments of being brought to the edge…but it’s Will. His large calloused hand takes yours as he pulls you into his chest making you face out. You sigh into the warmth and you’re enveloped by his cologne and the smell of the cigar.

“How are you feeling Honey?” Honestly…like you’re all trying to kill me.

“I’m fine.” He tsks under his breath as he kisses your neck, he breathes in deep as if you’re having the same affect on him as they are on you.

“I don’t like that answer…you tell me if you don’t want to do this.” Always the one to check in with you, he’s so sweet even when his own resolve is breaking.

You doubt he’s expecting your next move when you spin in his arms and grip him by the collar of his shirt as you crash your lips to his.The taste of tobacco and mint fresh on his tongue. He’s lost momentarily as he moans into the kiss, not caring about who could come around this corner at any moment. You pull away, reveling in the way he chases after you. His hooded lids staring you down as you brush your thumb along his swollen pink lips.

“I want to do this, I just don’t think I can take anymore teasing baby.” Will’s a private man so your pet names are reserved for your private moments, but you can see the moonlight luminate in his eyes as the blue practically disappears.

“Come on Honey, all you had to do was ask.” You scoff at that as he yanks your hand and practically runs you up the back steps back into the house.

When you enter the kitchen Benny,Frankie and Santi are all standing in the corner with knowing looks on their face and Will signals it’s time to go.

Santi and Frankie are out the door before you can blink as you pull back slightly in Will's grasp. “Shouldn’t Frankie say bye to his boss?”

“No time sweetheart, we’re late for a very important date.”

“Seriously Will, you’re going to steal my only line.” Ben skips along in front of you both as you exit the grandiose home.

“You had all night to use it, it’s not my fault you’re too slow.”

****

You thought you would’ve been more nervous or feel unprepared but it seems as you lay out completely exposed on Santiago’s bed as you try and keep track of the hands all over you, it sends a surge of confidence through you.

Santiago had taken control right away, the guys already had some sort of plan hatched out as you could’ve guessed by the way they were silently communicating every step.

The ride home was less than romantic as they went over your safe word and hard no’s. That shifted as soon as Frankie pinned you against the front door, too impatient to wait any longer before touching you as he unzipped your dress leaving it in a pool of fabric beneath you.

He knelt down on the floor, raising your leg over his shoulder as you gripped on tight to his soft curls. Your panties lost in one of his pockets earlier left easier access to you as he licked a stripe through your wet folds. Your head hits the door as you try to stay standing, already so worked up from before.

You’re a whimpering mess as Frankie works you open like a man starved. “You always taste so good hermosa.”

“Frank!” Santi reappears in the entryway naked and hard, looking as though he’s gonna spit fire.

“What?” You’d laugh if you weren’t so close to your first climax of the night as his nose nudged your clit.

“Bedroom?!” He sighs into you sending a chill up your spine as he fights against every urge to ignore Pope and continue his ministrations. He looks up at you almost apologetically as he places a kiss on each thigh.

****

“Fuck baby that feels so good.” Will’s grip is tight in your hair as he works his cock deeper down your throat. You can’t manage more than a whine as you try to focus on Santi thrusting behind you, slamming you further onto Will's cock with every switch of his hips.

“Do you have any idea how good you look right now?” Frankie pants beside you as Ben works his hand up and down Frankie’s length.

The praise and attention has you keening as you arch back into Santi’s chest. His hand on your hip is sure to leave a bruise as he pounds into you relentlessly. He’s close, he can tell you are too as you clench him tighter and moan out his name.

“Santi, I can’t.” You’ve lost count on how many times you’ve come. On Frankie’s tongue, on Will's fingers. When you were sitting on Bennys lap with Santi’s face buried in your cunt, you thought you were close to passing out.

“Tell me what you need.” You’ve never seen Santi as sweet or gentle as you have when he was methodically taking you apart.

You weren’t sure they heard when you whispered more. Santi was sure he heard you loud and clear as he asked if you were sure. Your pathetic mule as you chase his hips was all the answer he needed as he slowly pulled out of you. He gives a silent signal to Frankie as he replaces Will's spot on the bed.

Frankie’s wrecked, his own orgasm held off this entire time in anticipation for this. His sweat slicked curls cling to his face as he guides your hips above his throbbing erection. He grips the base of his cock as he slides the tip through your swollen folds. As you sink down onto him he moans in unison with you as a cold sensation meets your other hole. Santi smears the lube around your sensitive nub with his thumb and he nearly chokes at the way you push back onto it.

“Stop teasing Santiago.” Frankie rasps out between muttered curses as he bucks his hips into you.

Santi is a tease but at this moment he can’t hold on much longer. Your grip on Frankie tightens as Santi prods your entrance, the tip just barely in almost has you seeing stars. Will’s behind Santi working his length as he watches him pick up his pace. Ben’s lips are on yours as he reaches between you to rub slow circles on your clit. “Oh fuck…oh my god.”

“I need you to come cariño.” Santi grits out behind you as his hips start to stutter.

Frankie plants his feet in the mattress as he pounds up into you, a lewd moan leaves your lips as you cling to someone’s hand. Benny singing sweet praises in your ear of how good you’re doing as your body heaves and your heart threatens to pound out of your chest.

The smallest sound leaves your mouth as you cease up in pleasure, it rolls over you in waves as they both stutter their hips spilling into, the only sounds in the room are moans and pants as you collapse into a puddle in the middle of the bed.

You come too with concerned faces surrounding you as Will cleans you up gently with a damp towel.

“I told you, you went too hard.”

“Me…I’m not the one who made her come three times.”

Ben notices your blissed out face as you suppress a giggle. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His dopey smile is on full display as the other men bicker behind him.

“You ready for round two Honey?”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

@csarab615 @syrupsstuff @ghostslillady @uudelally @onefinnedwonder-fm @thedreadandthefugitivemind @romanarose @scarletthefierce @heather1482 @pikapuff-316

#frankie morales x reader #frankie x f!reader x santiago #triple frontier boys x reader #tf poly x reader #will miller x female reader #benny miller x frankie morales #benny miller x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fanfic #kinktober 2023 #santiago garcia x francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier boys #pimowrites #santiago garcia smut #triple frontier x you

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batbabydamian · 26 days

Text

so, Batman #147… rambling about the difference in how Zdarsky portrays the two current Robins

this is a fantastic run for Tim, and very much written like a return to form of what plenty consider the best dynamic duo, but even more so "the best Robin". once Damian's introduced in this run, Zdarsky really makes sure you still know that lol

1. "We don't need anyone else" VS "I need my family"

#147 clearly exemplifies the contrast, so i'll go through it first. Damian, having fallen for Zurr's lie and accepted him as the real Bruce, goes so far as to say in the very first page "We don't need anyone else." it's cold colors, machinery, and hollow declarations of "father and son" for these two.

towards the ending, Tim has deduced where the real Bruce is hiding and brings him food expecting Bruce's knack for self-neglect. it's all warmth, sunshine, and mutual understanding - also a cute back and forth of "Batman and Robin" between them. on top of this, where Damian isolates Batman & Robin from family, Tim is the one to remind Bruce about "helping each other." Bruce heartily agrees with "I need my family" for a weighty end.

along with this parallel, from #138 Tim makes it clear that even in opposition, he's only ever trying to help Bruce. Damian was still on the wrong side with Zurr-induced-Bruce here at the time too 😭

2. Tim's independence as both a hero and partner

Tim is written as the ideal Robin to Bruce's Batman, and has made Robin its own independent hero on equal footing rather than a sidekick - it's made in statements by both Tim and Bruce, and through the entire narrative. he takes initiative and tries to foresee what would ultimately help Bruce. beyond being great partners, there's many bits showing their emotional connection ("i'm scared of being lost, but i'm more scared of losing you, Bruce" hit me like a bag of bricks). tbh this almost could be a Batman and Robin run lol

added the first panel from #126 of Tim declaring he's his own hero outside of Bruce, proven plenty especially in his backups in #131-134!! the other panels are a few highlights from #128, #130, and #135 of the partnership between Tim and Bruce

granted it's Zurr, but Damian is mostly seen following orders and given pensive looking panels when there's something concerning. While Tim continued to represent Batman's ideals during his own solo quest to find Bruce, Damian doesn't question or take action against "Bruce's" sudden shift in ethics

Batman #134 Backup - Tim showing support toward Toyman VS Batman #146 - Zurr and Damian confront Harley as she pleads about her change of heart

another kiinda parallel in #147 is Bruce acknowledging Tim's hard work to become Robin compared to Damian who's out here going Batman and Robin/Father and Son. i don't think it's an intended parallel but just the state of continuing to show Tim in a better light - Tim put in the effort "to become the second-best Robin" while Damian is Robin because..."son." supposedly less effort on his part too, because LOA.

second pic is from Batman/Catwoman The Gotham War: Scorched Earth, felt fitting to add since Tim mentions needing to "know everything" in both. and the humble brag. which ofc Tim believes Dick is the best!! but also. jic we didn't know Tim is the best current Robin sdfgh

3. Damian's blind loyalty as "Bruce's son"

there's a weight to the Robin title when regarding Tim, whereas Damian's "Robin" role is excess and counterintuitive. he's delegated to desperate sidekick to Bruce, as well as becoming an obstacle to the family. being Robin only seems significant to Damian in how it ties himself to his father, and his single Robin quality is a loyalty that's been written to an extreme fault. the only positive angle i could see this in is Zdarsky aiming to put Damian in a sympathetic light in how far Damian was willing to fall to stay by his father's side, hence, fooled by that nightmare story/confession. the problem with this is that we have not seen a single emotional connection between the two in this run, so why should we care about that relationship.

also, Damian constantly bringing up his position as Bruce's son just makes him look entitled? since Bruce rightfully expressed his claim of having the others as his sons too (with the unfortunate exclusion of his daughter)! so it's like a "lol you're not that special" vibe when looking at it from the outside?? ykw concerning #138, Damian saying "You're the one trying to destroy my father" also could have been in contrast to Tim saying "We'll help our dad" at the end.

Zdarsky seems to believe the only meaningful part of Damian being Robin is he's the son of Bruce, and not a single nod to any noble aspect Damian's achieved beyond that. we're constantly reminded of Tim's greatest hits as Robin, from taking on the mantle to pull Bruce out of darkness (#135, #138), mastermind a whole takedown (Gotham War: Scorched Earth), and always being on the same wavelength with Bruce etc. the entire run sings Tim's praise, and it's deserved!! my problem is how it's in stark contrast to Damian's portrayal of being the other Robin who's only special because he believes he's the greatest son and wants to be at Bruce's side.

so all this to say, if your fav is Tim YOU'RE EATING WELL!! personally as a chronic enjoyer of things, this has been an entertaining run! as a chronic enjoyer of Damian, it's definitely not for many of his fans at this point in time.

i did like this part!! his grin!!

#rambling #i'm not v good explaining things besides yelling about how cute Damian is but hopefully the observations are clear enough #instead of an essay i think i should pull up a conspiracy board of all the panels/lines and post it notes of my points #bc writing this has made me go cross eyed trying to verbalize parallels and differences 😭#like. Tim's Robin moments are stunners!! kickass or emotional scenes with or without Bruce!!#then Damian acts like everyone is beneath him and Bruce...when they've barely had any meaningful dialogue with eo #gave Zdarsky the benefit of doubt that Damian was pulling something similar to Morgan Ducard #but ofc that would mean he actually cared about any of Damian’s comics outside of his intro with Morrison 😭#i don't think Zdarsky hates Damian exactly just that he's a convenient character to use as a parallel since there's two Robins ALTHOUGH #thinking of the Batman sketch by Jorge or Zdarsky?? ITS A BLUR at NYCC and Zdarsky added a word bubble with 'Tim is the Best Robin' or smth #he wants to remind ppl of that every so often. like in the batman run. i wouldn't mind it if he wasn't putting my fav against that #especially when they're sharing the title but alas!#this run could be a great sendoff to Tim's Robin era and gaining a new title... or this is all Zdarsky fanboy lol which is fair #ANYWAY BACK TO WHIMSY!! TO DILLY DALLYING AND SHILLY SHALLYING!!

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eponastory · 1 month

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I know you most likely already realized this, but I was just thinking about Aang as a father in LOK, and realized something. If Katara ended up with Zuko and eventually had children together, Zuko would likely end up being a better father than Aang. Aang never even met his parents, and only had instructors as parental figures. They're like parents but mostly just in the way that a school teacher would be. But Zuko understands what good parents and what bad parents look like because he knows what his own parents are like. His memories of Ursa and Iroh would be his guide to what you SHOULD do for a child, and Ozai is an example of what you should NOT do. Zuko doesn't have the pressure of repopulating firebenders because firebenders aren't virtually extinct, so there wouldn't be as much (if any) pressure to pay unfairly extra attention to one child over the other. Zuko knows what it's like to be neglected by a parent that's supposed to love because of something you can't control. Aang clearly doesn't, hence why he neglected Bumi and Kya II in the first place. Zuko also has experience with Azula, and would know to recognize any bad signs of sibling jealousy and/or hatred, and put an end to it because he knows what bad sibling dynamics look like.

I feel like he would also be a better husband to Katara. He's not as naive as Aang when it comes to marriage; Zuko has the experience of growing up with two married parents, and would know what not to do. Katara would relax better because the distribution over who watches the kids would be more fair, as Zuko would give them ALL attention. While Aang made Katara jealous from always being around the Air Acolytes (in the comics), I feel like Zuko would not give polite attention to women who are rude to Katara/flirting with him because in the show, Zuko knows exactly how hurtful it feels for a romantic partner to flirt with/give polite attention to people who are obviously pursuers. Imagine being in an alternate dimension where Zutara was the main endgame couple, and we get to see their parental dynamics in LoK. There would probably be a flashback of Katara getting worked up about one of their children, and Zuko would ease her into calming down because he sees a solution that she didn't.

Aang's issues are more than he doesn't know. He is selfish by nature. Selfish parents aren't good parents. I know this for a fact. It's an endless cycle of 'It's your fault' or 'what about how I feel' every time you try to say something. It's not fun, and it's damaging. I can totally see Aang using this behavior as a way to get what he wants. As far as him being naive... yes. He is very naive and doesn't take anything seriously.

Like the war, for instance. He was only there for the last year of it. He wasn't born into the war like Zuko, Katara, Sokka, Toph, and Suki. They aren't naive. They know what war is like. Toph is the same age as Aang, and she is much more mature than he is. He's got this idea that killing anyone is bad, but he is responsible for a lot of deaths. Honestly, he has a kill count from the Fire Nation attack on the NWT, and a lot of people overlook that for some reason. Actually, the show overlooks it because Aang is the Hero, and it's okay if he killed people. So, when all is said and done, all of the things that he does afterward is overlooked too. It's a huge writing flaw with the show. So how does this translate to him as a parent?

It makes him a hypocrite.

Plain and simple.

He's so focused on reviving the Air Nomads that he has little knowledge on what they actually believed. What we are given is a few Taoist, Hindu, and Buddhist proverbs to go off of. Then, it's completely disregarded (disrespected as well) for 'Love'. This 'Love' is actually deep infatuation fueled by jealousy and possessive behavior. Which is actually frowned upon by the three religions mentioned above. It is a 'poison' to the spirit. And disconnects you from being enlightened (I think that is what the proverbs/scriptures are eluding too, if I'm wrong, please do not hesitate to explain, I'm super interested in cultures and eastern religions) or granted a place in Heaven (or their version of it). Letting go of all earthly possessions is common place in most religions. Aang does not do this. But I digress.

So, while there is the Nature vs Nurture aspect of parenting... where Katara does most of the Nurturing because that is how her character is written post-war and LoK. Notice how is said Written. Written by two misogynistic men who stripped her of a lot of her characteristics from the original run of the show. This is the problem. And it's the same with Aang. I can't take him seriously because he doesn't take any of it seriously. Especially with his children. He's not a serious character. He acts like he's serious, but he never really left the 12 year old boy behind to mature. Probably because in his fictional relationship with Katara, she enables him to keep doing what he always does. Which is to not grow. Relationships grow sour when the two people in them do not grow. It's not really about who grew up with parents at that point because it's the current parents that are the ones that should be to blame.

Now on to Headcanon space...

Zutara is a Headcanon ship. Did it almost happen? Oh yes I believe it did because the writing supports it heavily and Bryke's actions post show also scream 'lairs'. Sorry, but I have a pretty good Bullshit metor and Bryke set it off big time by their immature behavior.

But I digress.

Zuko grew up with a Narcissistic Sociopath as a Father and a Mother who was caught in the middle of a choice she was essentially forced to make. Ursa was also forced to forget her own parents never existed after she married Ozai. This is all canon, by the way. Her life before her marriage was great, but then it was taken away so she had nothing left but her morals and beliefs. However, while she loved both of her children, her influence on Zuko is essentially what made him who he is. Ursa didn't get to influence Azula like she did Zuko. Why? Because of Ozai.

Ozai pit his children against each other. This was apparently a Fire Nation Royal Family tradition because it sounds like Azulon did this with Iroh and Ozai as well. This kind of parenting style is abusive to its core. What Ozai did to Zuko isn't neglect... it's straightforward abuse and control. How do you make a child do what you want? You hurt them, or you take something away from them. Ozai both hurt Zuko and took away his home by banishing him. If Zuko wants to go back home, he has to find and capture the Avatar. It's that simple, but at the same time, it's also near impossible.

Flash forward to Canon Zuko and we see he has one child and he is a very loving father. Actually, he's the best father in the show. His experiences with growing up as the not so favorite child has made his choice to have one child easy. Probably because he and his spouse had a less than perfect relationship. This also may have influenced him to be protective of Izumi (as we can see he's still protective over her even at 90 years old) because of the loveless relationship his parents had. It was enough to damage him deeply when it came to relationships. This is likely also why he had trouble with Mai as well.

Headcanon space now...

Zuko loving Katara is what makes the difference here. Love is giving your partner the freedom to make their own choices and support them. As long as there is good communication, trust, and honesty. Something Maiko does not have, by the way. So it stands to reason that even with Nature Vs Nurture in the way of parenting, both win here. I'll tell you why Zuko's relationship with his parents here have no effect on why he would choose to have more children with Katara.

Because if written well, it's a very good relationship between them. We already know they work well as a team. The show gives us this. We know that Zuko absolutely cares about Katara. The show also gives us that. We also know they become lifelong friends. So why do they make great parents?

Because they rely on each other.

It has nothing to do with how they were raised individually, but everything to do with how they support each other narritively. They trust each other to make good decisions together. They rely on being honest with each other. They also communicate with each other. This by itself is the building blocks for a healthy and stable relationship. With that in mind, parenting is easier. There is no need to be afraid of becoming a bad parent because they hold each other accountable. It's a deep relationship. Having multiple children is easier because it is a loving relationship. There's no conflict besides the silly little arguments over simple things that happen all the time. It's just an overall healthy dynamic.

And that is what appeals to Zutarians.

While it was almost canon, I'm glad it isn't because Bryke would definitely not get it right. They tried to make Korra and Mako happen out of spite because they believe Zutara is toxic. It's not. Their children would turn out absolutely fine because Zuko would not change a thing about Katara. It's in the show. He doesn't try to change her because that's not his job. His job in TSR is to let her find closure. He offers it to her because he cares about her. Bottom line.

Anyway, I probably forgot what you said at this point because I just tend to go on and on, but I tried my best to stay on topic... ADHD is both a blessing and a curse.

#parenting is not about the past as long as you have a good partner #a bad relationship will force a parent to make decisions to protect their child.#if Zuko was like his father his partner would be the one making the hard decisions to protect their child.#if mai is Zuko's wife then it was not a good relationship.#zutara #relationships #parenting #anti bryke #anti aang

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