#I don't actually know if this is whump tbh

[tendertenebrosity]

This is an odd piece that I mostly wrote to explore Ciaran's family and upbringing a bit. Who even are these people that Ciaran sold his soul for, etc. Ciaran's story so far can be found here. Mind the tags.

The first job I went out on with my father and his crew, the summer after we moved down south into town, was clearing land for some wealthy family who’d newly moved out of the capital. Henley, the name was.

It was pretty neglected land, overgrown with brush and saplings and fully grown trees right up to the eaves of the big house that would probably be really fancy once it had been taken care of properly. I was working near there - tying branches and whippy green wood into bundles to carry them away - when I noticed him.

Leaning over the half-rotten wooden railing of the balcony on the second floor, he was dressed in such good clothes it took me a second to notice that he was about my age or a little younger; a young fifteen or an old fourteen, maybe.

He was watching us work - or, well, not me actually; his gaze was fixed on the men with hatchets a little further away from the house. I straightened up, wincing and stretching my back, and wondered what it was he found so intriguing about Lin and Maric clearing the brush. Was he that bored out here?

I glanced over my shoulder. Maric had taken his shirt off.

Oh. I realised what it was that he was so fixated on, and what that meant, at about the same time he noticed me watching him.

If he was embarrassed to be caught staring, he didn’t show it. He transferred his cool, intent gaze to me.

Abruptly nervous, I shrugged. I flicked my eyes to Maric, back to him; and tried to contrive a grin that said: hey, I get it. Fair enough.

I did get it, actually; Maric was one of the few younger people around here that wasn’t related to me, so I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t spent a little time looking at him myself. As of last month he was extremely happily married to my cousin Shari, though.

The well-dressed boy’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. Greatly daring - oh man am I going to look stupid if I’ve misunderstood things - I winked at him and turned away.

-

“The garden I wanted to show you is just around here,” Jon said, a little loudly, a little obviously fake - although there was nobody to hear him. We’d left the rest of the crew under one of the trees Jon’s father had decreed would be allowed to stay, staying out of the worst of the midday heat while they finished lunch.

He gave me a conspiratorial look and I grinned, stupidly, trying not to be too dazzled by the sun on his hair and on his very white shirt and pale jacket. I followed him around the side of the shed the crew and I had just finished building last week.

I wondered if, jokes aside, there really was a garden - I wouldn’t have minded seeing it, wouldn’t have minded watching Jon’s face and hands as he talked about it - but once we were in the cool shade of the building he reached out and snagged my wrist, and then before I could think twice we were standing nose to nose up against the wall.

I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I’d been working all morning, had dirt under my fingernails and ground into my elbows even though I’d washed up for lunch, that my shirt was still saturated with sweat across my back. I probably smelled, too. Surely any second Jon would notice and wrinkle his nose, and then I might need to change my name, buy a ticket on the next coach, and put on a fake moustache to not be recognised while I left the country.

I wondered if it was possible to kiss someone with your hands behind your back.

“Why are you doing that with your hands?” Jon demanded. He batted one of them out of the air playfully from where I had been hovering it. “Am I made of glass suddenly? You weren’t this shy last week.”

“Well - well, your jacket is so nice,” I protested. Heat flared across my cheeks. “It’s white. And I’m all dirty, I don’t want to mess up your nice clothes…”

“Old gods, you are adorable,” Jon laughed.

I tried to laugh off the fluttering feeling in my stomach, tried to tease him in return. “Why are you out in the grounds in good clothes, do you - ”

“Just come back from lessons. Shh.”

And then he put his hands on my chest, and stretched up a little because he was shorter than me, and kissed me. Which was an effective way of shushing me, I had to admit, because I stopped thinking about his clothes or my clothes or the dirt on my elbows or basically anything else.

I didn’t think we were there that long - surely it couldn’t have been longer than a minute or so? But when a loud and angry voice split the air, my first guilty thought was that I had misjudged the time and was late. We had sprung apart - a second of delay because Jon’s hand had curled around my waist and needed to be disentangled - before I realised to my horror that the voice didn’t sound like any of my people.

“Oh, no,” Jon said, and his face was so tight and frightened that I was distracted by a moment of worry for him. The person marching angrily across the broken ground towards us was Jon’s father. I’d seen him several times since starting the job; he’d only ever spoken to my dad.

“Mr - Mr Henley, sir,” I stammered. Maybe I should shut up and let Jon do the talking - but Jon was backing away from me, as if trying to put distance between us as fast as possible, hands brushing down his jacket to straighten it. “I - ”

“What the hells do you think you’re doing?” Henley snarled - his face a furious mask. I thought the question was directed at Jon, not me, which was why I was surprised when Henley reached us and the first thing he did was reach out and grab a fistful of my shirt.

He hit me across the face; not lightly, either, with the back of his hand. I had my hands half-raised instinctively to defend myself, but luckily I realised what a breathtakingly bad idea what would be before I did anything.

Instead I just reeled, my face burning and my ear ringing. I got my feet underneath myself and tried to tug my shirt out of his hand. “Sir! Sir, please!”

“Damn Caresi trash, this time?” he demanded of Jon. He didn’t let go; he twisted the handful of shirt he held and shook it like a terrier with a rat. “You decided to dig in the gutters for this one just to aggravate me, didn’t you?”

Jon flinched and gave me an appalled look. “Father, I - ”

The noise had brought half the crew coming to see what the fuss was; the men who came around the corner first froze and melted back.

The person who came around the corner next was my dad.

I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me.

He took a moment to take in the situation, brows down low over his eyes. I couldn’t meet them; I yanked at my shirt again, fruitlessly. My face was hot and stinging; the slap had happened before anybody else was here, but could Dad tell? I didn’t want him to know. I didn’t want any of the men over there - my relatives and their friends and people I’d worked with for weeks - to know Henley had just slapped me.

“Mister Henley,” Dad said sharply. “Let go of my son, please.”

“Your son, is it?” Henley yanked my shirt as he turned around and I stumbled, only just avoiding falling flat on my face. He didn’t let go. “Well, mister Adarie, maybe you can tell me what your son is doing taking mine back behind outbuildings, with their filthy hands practically down each other’s pants? Is your son a two-copper whore?”

“Father,” Jon said, but he wasn’t as shocked by this as everybody else was; rather he was ramrod-straight and pale. The rest of the crew was milling around behind Dad now and a little murmur went through them. I burned.

“Ciaran,” Dad said. His voice was very level. “Is this true?”

I pulled on my shirt wildly, and managed to get it out of Henley’s grip. I backed away out of his reach. “No, it’s not!” I said, and my voice cracked, humiliated tears springing to my eyes. “I only - we only - it was just a kiss. That’s all! Don’t make it - he makes it sound like -”

Henley made a scoffing noise, disgusted.

He makes it sound so… so low and dirty, I wanted to say. It wasn’t. And it wasn’t - like that. I didn’t even unbutton his shirt. But you might have wanted to. But I didn’t! And even if I had - !

Dad looked at me for a long second and my stomach plummeted; I couldn’t bear the thought that it was disappointment or even disgust that made him take so long to say anything. “You know you’re here to work, Ciaran,” he said. “Should you have been working?”

“No,” I protested. I sniffed desperately and tried to force the tears away. “No, Dad, I - it was the midday break. I’m working, I’m not slacking off…”

Maric, hanging back behind my father’s shoulder, coughed. “That - that is true,” he said, and his eyes were sympathetic when he glanced at me. “We had stopped for midday. There wasn’t anything he should have been doing.”

Dad looked like he wanted to say something else, but in the end all he did was sigh. “Come here,” he said.

I went to do as he said, miserable - but Henley stepped in front and put an arm out. I could’ve got around him, maybe, but I didn’t want to push him and make things worse, so I just stood there like an idiot.

“You seem to have the misapprehension that I’m most concerned about his work,” Henley said, low and furious. “Frankly I don’t care. He could be the best man you have and three times as fast as any of the rest, and I’d still want his hide.”

My stomach dropped; I could feel heat burning in my cheeks but the rest of me went cold. Maric looked alarmed; a muttered conversation went on behind Dad’s back between a few of my cousins. Dad gave me one quick glance, his brow creased, before turning his attention to Henley.

“Ah… sir,” he said. “Hang on, now. There’s no call for that kind of talk... Ciaran’s barely fifteen...”

“No?” I couldn’t see Henley’s face, but I could hear the venom in his voice. The distance between me and Dad seemed to lengthen; suddenly everybody else was way over there, and I was trapped behind Henley and Jon. “You don’t think so? You think I ought to let him creep around corrupting my son, doing whatever - ”

“Don’t be stupid, Father,” Jon interrupted, heated. “If anybody has grounds to claim that it’s Adarie, since -”

“You’ll hold your tongue,” Henley snapped. “We’ll discuss what happens with you later.”

“Look,” Dad said, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, hang on. Mr Henley… this…it’s unfortunate, and I’m sorry, but let’s not make it more than it is. I apologise for his behaviour. But he’s just a boy. There’s no harm done. There’s no suggestion he’s made your son do anything he didn’t want, is there?”

“No,” Jon said, before his father could answer. He flicked a quick glance at me that I couldn’t read, and then looked to my dad with a mulish expression. “It was my idea. I talked your son into it.”

“Well, then - well, then. They’re just kids,” Dad said. “More heart than sense. No harm done.” As if he said it often enough Henley would believe it. He made what I thought was an attempt at a rueful fellow-feeling smile. “We were all boys once, weren’t we? Eh?”

“Not in the sense that you seem to mean, no,” Henley said, coldly. “I can’t say I was. Perhaps that you think so…. Explains some things.”

Dad shook his head. “Listen, I don’t think it’s good to have this out in public for everyone to gawk at. Let’s - let’s move on, and talk about this later, and let everyone get back to work. Ciaran’ll go. I’ll talk to him - you can talk to your boy.”

“I don’t think it’s talk either of them needs,” Henley said, but he seemed to have tired of the conversation; maybe he didn’t like the reminder that this was happening in public, either? He gave me a look like I was something he’d scraped off his shoe, and stepped to one side. “Fine. We’ll discuss this and the future of the project in my office this afternoon, Adarie. Get back to what I’m supposedly paying you all for.”

I edged along the wall of the shed to get around him, giving him as wide a berth as the poisonous snake he reminded me of. Once I reached Dad’s side I turned around.

Jon was standing at his father’s side, mirroring us; his stance was stiff and there was something very deliberate about the way he held his chin tipped up. I swiped a hand over my face - it was wet and my nose was running, so that was revolting, that was a really dignified way to end this.

“Of course. Ciaran - apologise to Mr Henley, and young master Henley,” Dad said. “And then you’ll have to walk home.”

Apologise to Mr Henley? I would rather have eaten glass, in that second. The words, but, Dad, hovered on my lips, but one look at Jon and his father made me swallow them painfully.

I looked at the ground. “I’m - I’m very sorry for the trouble,” I managed to force out. “Sir. Please forgive me.” In my head I directed it at Jon, because I was sorry to Jon. Sorry because I’d obviously gotten him in trouble; sorry I hadn’t kept a closer eye out for people coming.

Henley sneered at my apology, but he was already turning away. Jon followed him without looking at me, and that hurt, too, unexpectedly.

“Thank Ena,” somebody murmured from Dad’s other side; probably Maric. Somebody else behind him laughed. And maybe I was just really upset and not thinking straight, maybe they meant it as nervousness and relief, but it didn’t feel like it.

“Ciaran, what were you thinking?” Dad demanded, and went to touch my face; to turn it and look at where Henley had smacked me, probably. The anger in his voice made my stomach seize up all over again. “I never thought that you were this -”

I pushed his hand away, ducking my head. “What, are you going to hit me now, too?” I asked, and my voice was all over the place, high and tearful. Of course he was disappointed. Of course he didn’t want to think of me like that.

He looked shocked. His hand dropped. “Ciaran!”

Why does everybody have to be here? Bad enough Dad and Maric! But fucking everyone?

“Can we do this later? You s-said go home, I’m going,” I said, turning away with one hand held up over my eyes in the vain hope that people would stop looking at my face and just let me get out of here.

“All right, later,” I heard Dad say as I went blindly through the ranks of the crew.

-

Later, I lay on my bed upstairs in the house we shared with my Uncle Cob and his family.

The rest of the family was home. I could hear them downstairs, talking over dinner; but I couldn’t make out what they were saying, which was probably a good thing, frankly. My stomach rumbled, but I wasn’t going down there, possibly ever again.

I heard the stairway creak as somebody came upstairs. The door eased open.

“Go away,” I said into the pillow.

“Hey,” Bren said, softly. “It’s only me, Ciaran. Can I sit down?”

I sniffled. Bren wouldn’t be so bad. Bren hadn’t been there, today, he hadn’t seen it - he worked in a factory, not with my dad’s crew. Then again, people had undoubtedly told him, and I couldn’t decide if that was worse. I wouldn’t have privacy up here for very long anyway; my cousin and my brother would be up at bedtime and I’d have to either look them in the eyes or pretend to be asleep already.

Bren took my silence for agreement, shut the door, and came to sit on the bed beside me. The wooden frame creaked. He didn’t try to touch me.

“Your dad sent me up here to have a bit of a talk with you,” he said. No big surprise there. He was the youngest of them, and seemed to have all of the skill with words my dad and my uncle Cob never picked up. “He told me about what happened at the worksite today.”

“So you heard that I’m a two-copper whore,” I said viciously into the pillow. “I guess everybody knows that by now, don’t they?”

I heard him draw in a wincing breath. “Nobody should have called you that, Ciaran,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

I rolled over to stare at the ceiling. “He called me Caresi trash, too,” I said. “That bit was before Dad arrived. Said Jon was after people ‘from the gutter’.”

Bren rubbed a hand through his hair, looking awkward. “Yeah, you’ll… you’ll find that in this part of the country. It’s just not normally that openly put,” he said. “I doubt your dad would be surprised to hear it. Henley sounds like a piece of work.”

“Then why’d Dad take the job?” I asked. “Why’d he offer us the job? If he’s that…?”

Bren sighed. “Ah, if only we could be that picky.”

I stared at the ceiling with my hands twisting in my shirt. “Do we… still have the job?” I wasn’t stupid. We needed that job. If I’d lost it for us…

“Yes,” Bren said. “It’s almost done, as I understand it, everyone will grit their teeth and put up with each other for another couple of weeks. It’s not worth finding another crew for what’s left.”

He turned around to look at me very seriously. “Look, you - you know your dad loves you to bits, Ciaran,” he said gently. “We all do. If he was - stern, today, it’s not because you made him angry. It’s because he was scared for you.”

I avoided Bren’s gaze, turning my head to stare at the wall.

I hadn’t been fair, this afternoon, to ask if he was going to hit me - that was probably part of why Bren was here and he wasn’t. I’d surprised and maybe even hurt him. My father might be gruff and difficult to talk to, but he’d never been that kind of man. It would probably take doing something actually criminal or violent or both before I’d be afraid anybody under this roof would hit me.

But that wasn’t what I’d been afraid of, really.

“I think,” I managed to say, “I think he is angry. Why wouldn’t he be angry?” Angry was not the word that was buzzing about in my head, like a fly trapped behind a windowpane. Angry wasn’t what I was afraid of.

“Yes, but not like - ” Bren waved his hands in a fruitless gesture. “Ciaran, you did something foolish today, not - not something morally wrong, or something your dad thinks is dirty, or something he’s going to think less of you for. He would never - there’s nothing you could do to make us love you less, Ciaran, not a thing, and certainly not something like this.”

Think less of me. Yeah, those were words you could use to describe it, that look of revulsion in Henley’s eyes. Did I think that Dad would look at me like that?

“Mmn,” I said past a lump in my throat.

“The whole - boys, girls, doesn’t matter,” Bren said. He smacked his knee lightly for emphasis as he spoke. “As long as you - as long as you’re treating people right and acting with integrity, it doesn’t matter at all.”

Acting with integrity. Only my uncle Bren could say a phrase like that and have it come out naturally, like he said it every day. “It matters sometimes,” I said - and, to my horror, my voice was going all wobbly again. “It matters to - ”

“It matters to miserable horse’s asses like Henley,” Bren said firmly. “Nobody you should care about. If anybody in this family or the work crew has a stupid opinion about it, you come and tell me.” Oh no. Oh, no, that would not be happening at all, no matter how many stupid opinions anybody has. “Your ma and dad aren’t… This is outside of their experience. They don’t really know how to talk about it, which is why I’m here and not them. But none of us care, and they want to make sure you know that.”

I sniffled, swiped a hand over my eyes. “Okay.” I pushed myself up to sit up, my back against the wall behind me. “So. So Dad just thinks I’m a fucking idiot who embarrassed him in front of the client. He just thinks I ruined the whole fucking job. He just thinks I can’t be trusted to - to - ”

I could just about see Bren wincing at the language, and deciding not to pull me up on it. Well if you can say horse’s ass, I can say fuck, can’t I?

“You didn’t ruin it,” he said patiently. “It’s awkward, the working relationship has soured, but like I said, this guy has been a piece of work from the start so I don’t think there was a lot there to damage.” He sighed. “But, yeah. You made things uncomfortable for him. I think you know what you did was stupid, and you know why. Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, staring at my knees. If Jon had been a girl, I suppose it wouldn’t have gone much better. Caresi trash. “Shouldn’t - shouldn’t let, that stuff, into work stuff. I know.”

I did know - but - well, how often could I expect to meet other people like me? Nice-looking boys who thought I was worth paying attention to? When was that ever going to happen again?

“Uh huh,” he said. “It was a bad judgement call. He’s not going to stop loving you for those, either, thank God or none of us would love anybody anymore in this family.”

That made me smile, which I guess he’d probably intended.

“So that’s about all your dad wanted me to say to you, I think,” he said, clapping his hands together. “The next part is from me.”

“Um. Okay?”

He held his hands steepled in front of his face for a moment, and I could see him sorting out words in his head. “I had this talk with a few of the girls at one point,” he said. “It’s fundamentally not that different.”

I was a little alarmed. “Bren, I’m not a girl…”

“No, and that means there’s a few things you don’t need to worry about,” he agreed. “I’m not expecting you to come home pregnant. But, Ciaran, please bear this in mind for any escapades you might get into in the future. Do not get involved with rich boys or rich men.”

This was not what I’d been expecting. “Huh?”

“Rich men that are employing you are a bad idea for reasons you’ve figured out already, I think, but all of them are trouble,” he said. “Even be careful about boys that maybe aren’t all that rich but aren’t Caresi.”

“That’s not fair,” I protested. “I know lots of non-Caresi people who are -”

“It’s not about them being bad people necessarily, kiddo, it’s about power,” Bren said. He lifted a hand in the air to gesture. “It’s about… if things go bad, like they could have today, who gets left with the consequences and who doesn’t? Who can ruin whose life if they want to? Who can go to the authorities and be believed?”

I frowned. “I mean, honestly? Today? I think Jon got left with the consequences.” I would bet anything that right now Jon was not getting a gentle talk from his favourite uncle about how loved he was, despite making very embarrassing and possibly expensive mistakes.

Bren sighed. “Jon, is that his name? All right. Yeah, Jon’s probably having problems with his family, but not - not the kind of thing I’m talking about. Ciaran, you - your dad was scared today.”

I bit my lip. I knew that.

“If he hadn’t happened to be on site that day,” Bren continued, “Or if Henley hadn’t been able to be talked down - he could have hurt you badly and there wouldn’t be much any of us could have done about it, before or after. What are we going to do, go to the police and tell them this rich landowner had our kid beaten? The police would laugh.”

I wrapped my arms around my knees. “I know. I know.”

Bren reached out and rubbed my shoulder. “Maric told me Jon seemed like a good kid. Took the blame, if Henley was going to lay blame?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He did.” And I’d… made trouble for him, and then left him. It didn’t feel good. Even knowing that there was nothing I could have done about… any of it. “It wasn’t all his idea. It was both of us.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s a good kid,” Bren said gently, “Because if he thought it’d help his position with his father, he could pretty easily have lied and said it was just your idea.”

“But it doesn’t matter whose…”

“I know,” Bren said. “You’re right. But… people get funny about this, Ciaran, the girls get it worse than boys usually. I know you’ve heard people talking. It’s always got to be somebody’s fault. And if you’re…” he hesitated. “There’s nothing wrong with how you are. You have nothing to be ashamed of. But the world won’t always be fair to you.”

Underneath us I could hear the sounds of dishes clattering, people starting to come up the stairs. Sounded like I’d made Bren miss dinner, too.

“No,” I said, looking down at my knees. “I guess I know that.”

“To society at large, someone like Jon?” Bren said. ��His reputation and livelihood and well-being is more important than yours is. And it’s very easy for him to hurt you. Even if he never would hurt you, he could. That’s what I’m talking about.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking tired. “You’re young, and I know this is a lot to think about. I don’t mean to depress you, or frighten you, or any of that. I just… I don’t want you to walk into situations where you don’t have power because somebody tells you it doesn’t matter or that love will fix it. It does, and it won’t.”

I wasn’t sure I understood the future that Bren was picturing for me, that this was advice he needed to give me. It seemed like it only applied to a narrow circumstance that wasn’t likely to happen again.

But the rest of it, I got. The world won’t be fair to you, so be careful who you trust.

“All right,” I said, trying to smile. “I’ll be careful, Uncle Bren. I promise.”

“Good lad,” he said, giving me a one-armed hug. “Now, I think they’ve saved you some food. Why don’t we head down and see?”

[straight-to-the-pain]

I don't know if anyone else in the whump community has read 'A Constellation of Vital Phenomena' by Anthony Marra but it is genuinely a really good book and also has some of the best depictions of torture and its aftermath that I have read in fiction.

I wanted to share some of my favourite quotes, hopefully without too many spoilers as it is out of context, but maybe skip this post if you don't want to know anything at all going in.

To give a brief summary, the book centres around the lives of people in Chechnya during the first and second war between the Russian government (Feds) and the separatist rebels. The main story focuses on a man (Akhmed) who is trying to save his neighbour's daughter from being killed by the Feds after her father is taken away in the middle of the night. He does this by taking her to a hospital where he then volunteers. One of the people in his village (Ramzan) becomes an informer for the Feds after being tortured, and this is explored in the excerpts below.

‘Information the Feds would torture them for was written here on the walls for all to see. It was well understood among the men that the Feds had as much sense as two bricks smashed together. It was also understood that pain, rather than information, was the true purpose of interrogation.'

'During his first detention in the landfill, in 1995, in the first war, he had refused to inform. They had wrestled down his trousers, shown him the bolt cutters, and still he had said no. Screaming, thrashing, with his manhood half severed, he had said no. He had done that, and now he was ready to start saying yes.'

'He would have confessed everything, but they didn't ask, weren't interested, threatened to cut out his tongue and put pliers to his teeth if he spoke one more fucking word. Electric wires were wound around his fingers. A car battery was drained into his bones. God might have been watching, but it wasn't God's finger on the battery switch. The interrogating officers didn't speak. Instead he was an instrument they played, performing a duet, and in their own way they conversed through his sobs. They both wore very shiny shoes. That was all he would remember.'

'He had trouble walking, He had forgotten torture could be so exhausting. The new interrogator, the one with less shiny shoes, held him upright, using his whole body as a crutch, and helped him walk. He carefully wiped Ramzan's forehead with a handkerchief before opening the door to the next room.'

'The interrogator with less shiny shoes crouched behind him. His hands were wet. Ramzan promised everything, and the interrogator, like the parent of a child too old to believe in ghosts, watched him with disappointment, his clear eyes saddened by Ramzan's sincerity. The interrogator took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, laid the live wires on Ramzan's chest and mapped the border of their shared humanity. Ramzan offered his soul. He begged to be enslaved. The known universe contracted to the limits of the cement floor, and on it, the interrogator was both man and deity, prophet and god. By ten o'clock the interrogator with less shiny shoes asked his first question. By eleven the electrical wires were unwound from Ramzan's fingers. By noon he was allowed to dress. By one he was on the FSB payroll. He kept thanking the interrogator with less shiny shoes.'

‘Greed didn’t motivate his informing, at least not primarily; primarily he informed by necessity, to survive, for his love and hate and above all awe of the power wielded by the interrogating officer with less shiny shoes.'

'That was his greatest fear. Could he stay silent? Could he withstand what awaited him? He told himself that his love for the girl should fortify him against any torture, but this, like so much of what he told himself, was a lie. After all, he was squeamish at the sight of blood, what would he say when lying in a puddle of his own? But he saw no other way. He would pray for the strength to stay silent, for a quick heart attack, and leave the rest to God.' (This is Akhmed POV)

'When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing, Akhmed. When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing. When they threatened to electrocute me, I said nothing. When they threatened to castrate me, I said nothing. I said nothing, Akhmed. Whatever you think of me, you remember that once I said nothing when a wiser man would have sung. And the interrogators, they couldn't believe it. They called in others to examine me. I was there on the floor, and above their faces were dark ovals silhouetted by the ceiling lights. They had beaten me hard and I couldn't hear right, but I kept saying no, with every breath I had. The main reason they let me go, the only reason they didn't shoot me right there was out of perverse respect, some sort of professional courtesy. But I wish they had shot me, Akhmed, because the good part of me died there, and all this, everything since, has been an afterlife I'm trying to escape.'

‘I knew what was coming. I knew it never stops. They put a shame inside you that goes on like a bridge with no end, the humiliation, the fucking humiliation of knowing that you are not a human being but a bundle of screaming nerve endings, that the torture goes on even when the physical hurt quietens. People treated me differently when I came back the first time.'

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Human!Jabba would absolutely be a sexyman. He’s a crime boss of a drug empire, probably going gray in a sexy way - something like Silco from Arcane but in space. People would be obnoxiously shipping him with Han Solo and there would be so much misogynistic fanficiton killing off Leia to get them together. Search your feelings, you know this in your heart to be true.

you're right and I hate it

[evasive-anon]

Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower

Fanon vs Canon

We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.

What I'm addressing:

What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Did Jason drug all the other Titans?

Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?

Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?

Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?

Was Tim crying or scared?

Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?

Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?

Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.

What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?

Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.

Look at these opening lines:

Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.

Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.

There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:

You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.

Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.

TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.

What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.

Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*

Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?

Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.

Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.

Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?

Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.

Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?

No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.

Does Jason break Tim's staff?

Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.

Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭

Tim crying/ being scared?

Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.

Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.

Message on the wall in Tim's blood?

TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.

Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.

Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?

Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.

[weebsinstash]

Alright bestie I’m on that shit again

So yandere Superman, right? Like obviously your fucked. The only other yandere in existence that might just be able to keep you from him is Batman, but even then he’d probably sooner work together just to ensure your safety- but that’s a prompt for another day.

Back to yan Superman, imagine you’re his darling and he is “keeping you safe”. But one day, you get snatched up by some organization that wants to use you as leverage or some shit, but you are just sobbing in relief at maybe being free- only to have Superman show up and do some not so super things to everyone who “stole” you

There are just so many casually horrifying things about Superman that people don't realize until you start like digging into his lore. "Oh he's super strong and a super fast flyer" actually he can do basically anything at those super speeds to the point he can literally even PROCESS THOUGHTS at near light-speed which means he has Absolutely Terrifying reaction times and can make plans and schemes on a dime, which, you know, can be even better utilized by him being intelligent. He has natural invulnerability so if you throw a punch at him too hard you could literally shatter the bones in your hand and he can't even control that, like you could literally hurt yourself with him on accident! He can see across INSANE DISTANCES and his x-ray vision doesn't have like a set range so he could do anything from, peep inside buildings to spy on you, to looking under your clothing for any bruises or injuries or even self harm marks, to peeking behind your hero disguise to learn your true identity, to seeing if there's anything inside your stomach and seeing if you're eating properly. Like jesus christ he literally found out Lois was pregnant from waking up one morning and suddenly hearing the heartbeat of the FETUS, there's literally nothing from him pulling that stereotypical "I know you're nervous or lying or afraid because I can literally hear your heartbeat increase" scary bullshit

And let's talk about Lois for a sec because my god her death was literally what kicked off the Injustice timeline? And there are other forms of Superman media where she just straight up dies naturally of cancer! Sure we could take the easy way and say "in this au Lois never existed or was just Clark's friend and he loved YOU" (which is my preferred default tbh bc, no competition for Reader lol) but I mean if you're going for that angst, that real whump, a yandere Clark Kent that just lost his wife/unborn child to either the Injustice incident or cancer, now overcome with grief? And in those cancer timelines they usually already have a son, Jonathan, and sometimes Jordan, and here's Clark thinking, well, his boy needs a mother, and he's got these weird feelings for you, and lil Jonny clearly has affection for you, maybe bring a bit of a platonic yan himself who sees you as either a big sister or even a secondary mom, so... be his wife maybe?

Like my god if Reader somehow helped him through the grief of losing Lois and managed to avoid "fully activating" Superman's anime villain arc, like he's going full fascist in the Injustice 2 Bad Ending, then some shit DEFINITELY goes down when Reader gets taken away. It just reactivates all his trauma. No! He can't lose anyone else! Jonathan can't lose anyone else! You're not just someone he loves, you're his FRIEND!

You're just huddled in whatever cell you've been kept in with your black eyes and bruises and knuckles bloodied from trying to fight back when you hear Clark's voice and you look up with excitement that just falls immediately off your face because holy shit did he just unlock that thumbprint scanner with a severed arm, and suddenly you're realizing there are other shades of red on his costume and dripping from his fingers

I can only imagine like, ngl I considered a sequel to my fic Doubt where Reader escapes the manor and runs into Supernan as the only other person who can protect you, so here we would have the inverse: you're the only one who knows about Clark's increasing instability and, while you still have your own freedom and autonomy, try to speak to Bruce about it, and now you have Batman Vs Superman: Competing For Your Heart Edition. I can only imagine what sort of unhinged reactions there would be if you think you've got Batman alone and you're beginning to cry all "Bruce I'm really worried about Clark, he isn't acting like himself, there's something wrong with him" and. Clark is like literally using his x-ray vision to read lips through the walls if he can't use his super hearing to outright eavesdrop.

Of course as you suggested, I'm always a slut for ideas with"oh shit I ran to this guy to help me and he's ALSO crazy, now they're teaming up and I'm in some weird shared/poly situation with TWO nutjobs". Lmao you go to Bruce concerned about Kal and Bruce goes to confront him and Clark just drops "did you know Y/N has been hiding self harm cuts under their hero suit also wow they smoke HELLA weed and im worried about their lungs and all the stuff they do when they're alone that no one else knows about 🥺" and suddenly here's Bruce " thanks i hate this actually :)" and there's a scheme concted to spy on you or move you elsewhere.

I've even thought of "Reader oh nooOoooOo, that, giant monster or villain attack or whatever also coincidentally destroyed your shitty little apartment complex? You mean Clark 'accidently' got sent flying into your building or smacked some giant creature into it and now you don't have a place to live? And you're broke too? Oh no 🥺 Well, BATMAN has this nice big house with lots of room in for you to stay toooootally 'temporarily', we PROMISE uwu"

Batman is the one who can put a tracking chip injected into your skin or even disguised as a filling in one of your teeth, and Superman is the one who can zoom off to rescue you/retrieve you "faster than a speeding bullet". I think one of the only people who could bring them down together at that point would be like. Fucking DARKSEID and, Jesus no, you definitely don't want HIM treating you as a pet 😭 the evil Batman that was brainwashed by him in the Apokolips War movie was scary enough (and scary HOT, lmao, let him keep me as some sort of prize and the only luxury Darkseid will allow him as a reward for his obedience. Lord Batman goes from having a meeting talking about like enslaving people to returning to his quarters and railing tf outta you because he's still holding onto some slim vestiges of humanity where he cares about you but also using you as his personal anti stress fuck toy)

[lightyaoigami]

hi, monica. i trust your taste because i love your writing. what are your favorite niche lawlight fics? (that is, stuff you've read that not many people in the fandom would know.)

hope that you're having a good break and come back to fic refreshed (of course, if you want to). <3 your readers won't go anywhere.

hi wow what a sweet and touching message to receive ;_;

i don't know what counts as niche tbh i will just recommend some here that i don't necessarily see as often as like idk tithe to hell or those. this is in no particular order. i actually forgot to add the ratings to the list below so just be mindful of that if that's something important to you!

the primrose path by tsukinousagi: 1.5k, a beautifully done elizabethan au inspired by hamlet. as you guys probably know i am a hamlet freak and this is laser-targeted to me, the guy who has had the username theprinceofdenmark for 15 years.

summa cum laude by whydoeseverythinghappensomuch: 13k, an incredibly atmospheric college au. reminds me so much of the secret history that it makes me want to chew my own fingers off.

tear you open live inside you by anonymous: 3k, mind the tags. excellent, super in-character blood and gore. consensual but not safe or sane. you get it.

unkissed for a million days by anivhee: 1.7k, this is after L dies but it's still lawlight. it's unhappy but i liked it even as a lawlight freak and fix-it enjoyer.

what i meant to say by booklovertwilight: 6.6k, a paratext collection of light's letters to L after his death.

twenty-three by haydonjames17: 4.7k, an utterly devastating birthday for light after L's death. i'm sensing a theme in my favorites here clearly i need help of some kind.

fifteen stories down by the-night-gods-moon: 7k, this is the closest i'll get to enjoying whump. the boys get stuck in rubble after a building explosion. this fic is profoundly underrated.

our little secret by avoidfilledwithcelluloid: 3k, i actually cannot describe this one it's so good and quite unique! it's a fresh way of writing their antagonism.

hear no evil by sharptoothed: 4.5k, so few people understand how to write misa in a lawlight context but isa nails it. it's also hot so sue me.

i know the way it ends before it's even begun by halfpromise: 15k, a side story to THE death note fic of all time, those. i am deeply biased because i got a shout-out in the dedication but this fic absolutely never fails to make me tear up. it's beautifully written, moving without being trite, and is as close to a happy ending as those!lawlight will ever get.

anyway. this is but a small sample of lawlight fics that make me insane and unwell. this was a very very nice ask to receive i am genuinely moved and i literally didn't know that anyone even noticed i was on hiatus. <3

[snakebites-and-ink]

Okay I've been wondering:

Because when people say "caretaker turned whumper," I have a hard time knowing (until I get additional context or what have you) whether they mean Caretaker whumping the former whumper, or taking advantage of Whumpee and becoming their new whumper. Which are both caretaker-turned-whumper, but different enough it feels like they ought to be called two separate tropes tbh.

[prentissluvr]

oh no 😭😭

please don’t tell me season 14 fucks up anything and everything bc it’s been a pain with trying to get through the later seasons 😭

iuhgjkfdlckaksdn ueuughhhh *pathetic whieempinger iohfgkj fldkjh whimpering and crying noises* there are currently reatrs trear st treat trear tears in my eyes . and i will cry whem them as i watch episode one tonight . i don't even know what to tell you like . dfkjsadld the whole season is so difficult to get through because tbh it's kinda boring and jensen's acting is bad for some of it (no hate to him at all but michael!dean was not it for him sorry if that it a spoiler lolll) . and then they just made it really upsetting and i'm very upset and i've been so so so set on finishing all fifteen seasons before starting my rewatch but i don't think i can do it anymore i was literally about to click on episode one when i saw you send this ask :,)

i guess not everything is fucked up but definitely some things so :(( YEAH UGH I CAN'T I GIVE UP OFFICIALLY oH MY gODDDKHJFS

anyways i'm sorry i can't bring you better news

actually sams hair is GLORIOUS this season . like GLORIOUS !!@!@!@!!@@!$!EW!@!! i can't believe folks don't talk about it more maybe it's because he's so tired and sad all season long :)))))) but he has a beard at the beginning too!! it's very hot <3 and GREAT sam whump season in ep 17 :)

:]]]]

[bugboybuck]

do you have any wishes for any buck-centric storylines next season? I feel in desperate need of some proper buck whump, coz it feels like it’s been FOREVER. Like, I think the lightning was supposed to be that, but it kind of felt like it was as much about everyone else as it was buck, and then the whump that should’ve followed it never really turned into anything before being dropped for… Natalia?? I just need to see Buck terribly sad and/or injured next season and maybe that makes me evil, but I don’t care. Season four was so long ago! MAKE THAT MAN SAD 2025!!!

ohhhhh my god SO many wishes !!

the lightning strike was Such once-in-a-lifetime (literally lmao) whump potential and i def feel they didn't follow through after it tbh?? i loved the coma ep and the actual lightning plot, but then they turned it into a healing moment for his parents that didn't feel earned and then just wrapped it up in a plot w natalia that went nowhere, i didn't feel they actually capitalised on it?? i don't want buck to get hurt in a way that will take him out of the 118 for any length of time next season bc i do feel there will be a Lot of shenanigans with the team make-up, but i would definitely love to see what'd happen if he got hurt next season and had tommy to worry about him/have the team noticing how different it is now he's got tommy. like maddie trying to organise another look-after-buck rota like she did after the lightning but every time someone turns up tommy's already there and they're like maddie i don't think this is needed?? his big strong boyfriend is waiting on him hand and foot???

i'd obviously love to see more of him exploring life as a queer man, too!!! i think hoping for a pride ep is too much to ask for, altho something like the team responding to a regular call during pride (nothing majorly disastrous but like someone broke their ankle at a drag show or something trying to do a death drop lmao) and buck excitedly announcing to everyone that he'd be there if he wasn't on the clock!! bc he's bi!!! and just connecting wiht other queer ppl in any way really. in my dreams we get some kind of full plot related to him becoming more out-and-proud and figuring out what that means for him — i think this could work super well with a plot with hen where they do something like protest some anti-lgbtq policy within the department, or run an event for lgbtq firefighters or something. like u CANNOT tell me clipboard!buck wouldn't be alllll over becoming event-coordinator for the lgbtqia+ firefighter society or something lmaoo.

honestly there's SO MUCH i'd rlly love them to explore tho. other figures from his varied past before firefighting turning up! more nuanced exploration of his relationship w his parents that isn't just 'this is all fixed now bc they decided to care age 30 so i'm fine'. career stuff — i don't pretend to know how the lafd works but i hear there's some kind of leiutenant thing u can become that's a step above regular firefighter and he'd CRUSH that and we know he has the ambition of someday being a captain. him deciding to take steps towards that, or training in some kind of specific rescue technique, getting more uber-competent moments where he gets to run a scene on his own.

oh and i want an episode where him and tommy to run a rescue together and them both to be wildly attracted to how good their bf is at his job and then make out against a fire truck at the end

[nachosncheezies]

💋🎉🥰🤲

For this ask game.

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

A fact about me, which may seem counterintuitive given my posting, is that... I'm actually not that much into shipping. I appreciate it, when done well, but it's not really the romance per se that draws me to things or drives my interactions with a piece of media. I don't really love OR hate first kiss fics; I suppose I would put them in the same category I put whump: if it's well done, and has some kind of plot or deeper introspection or something around it, something that helps the characters develop in some way, that's great! But just for its own sake? Meh.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

It's cliche, but feedback, especially comments. One of the best I ever got was on the first fic I posted, where I'd put a stereotypical "I'm not a writer, please be nice" sort of nonsense at the top. I got a comment from a complete stranger that started with, "okay, 'not a writer,'" and rode those four words straight into the next two stories I wrote. If I've made someone feel something enough that they've taken the time to say so, that's pure gold, and a definite win.

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

I LOVE questions about them!! I love chatting about my shows in general, but tbh writing meta sometimes hurts my brain. My fics are almost all canon-compliant and usually express a headcanon or an interpretation of canon events. Sometimes I'm demonstrating why some part of canon that folks seem to hate or think makes no sense actually makes perfect sense to me. It's always so fun to chat about blorbos, I guess I'm just better at showing my thoughts on some things through fic than I am at explaining. :D

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Bless you 💕 every time you do this you force me to look at another bit I've not worked on for a while and it sets my brain on fire with ideas for how to improve or expand on them. :D How about one not from season 8? Set in the reduxes, a scene I drafted ages ago for Scully and Bill Junior. I was delighted to later discover it has a lot in common with the deleted scene from I think it was memento mori? (also delighted that the deleted scene can't be considered canon, because what did air has him not aware of her cancer until much later, so my version could still stand :D I'll post it someday, probably)

"You're being rude," she stated. "I'm just looking out for you." "I know that you believe that, but you're also being rude." "Dana, I know-" he started, but she cut him off with a look. "I asked to speak to you, I would like you to listen," she said, and tipped her head toward the chair beside her bed. "Sit." His jaw flexed, but he acquiesced. "Look, I'm not going to ask you to like him-" "Good, because I don't," he interrupted petulantly. She gave him a quelling look. "I am not going to ask you to like him," she repeated, pausing between each word for emphasis, "and I'm not going to ask that you understand him. But I need you to respect me. We aren't kids anymore Bill, I'm a grown woman; I can make my own decisions. Please don't belittle that by assuming that I'm somehow being..." she searched for the right word, "manipulated."

thank you thank you thank you, a million times thank you for asking 💕💕💕

[ablatheringblatherskite]

Some whump fanfics that have low-key (or high-key) traumatized me forever

(aka some of my fave whump fics I've read so far)

(will reblog with more fics the more I read!!)

You Monster

fandom: Wednesday

whumpee: Tyler Galpin

You have had nightmares for weeks, waking up covered in sweat. Tonight feels no different; but it is. There is something calling to you, deep within the woods.

By @ArchivedTrash! A second person body horror fic all about Tyler transforming into the Hyde. It's. It's just so good. Literally the first second person AND body horror fic I'd ever read and still one of my faves forever.

Who Deserves This?

fandom: The Phantom of the Opera

whumpee: the whole trio tbh, but mainly Raoul

Erik runs out of patience and lets his temper get the best of him, costing him the boy's life and Christine's pity.

By my lovely mutual @rumpletrumple. This fic messed me up good :)))

She loves a pretty face

fandom: The Phantom of the Opera

whumpee: Raoul de Chagny

Erik scars Raoul. Raoul tries to move past it, but Christine won't talk to him, and Erik won't leave him alone.

By @convenientalias! This is one of my fav POTO fics, ngl. This was just. UGH. It was so good oh my GOSH. I love me some good Raoul whump AND THIS WAS SOME GOOD RAOUL WHUMP RIGHT HERE. AUGH. Scarring, threats, manipulation, tying to a chair, sacrificial love, oh my!!

Obedience

fandom: Batfam

whumpee: Tim Drake

Something is seriously wrong with Tim—Jason just knows it. Ever since the Mad Hatter incident, Tim has been acting completely different, and the worst part is that no one believes Jason when he tells them so. But when the truth is eventually revealed, the whole family comes to realize that the situation is far worse than anyone could have ever predicted.

By @sohotthateveryonedied! This left me disturbed and with low-key an existential crisis???? With one of my fave kinds of whump, forced obedience. This fic also gave me a newfound appreciation for "Perfection whump" (whump centered around being forced to be perfect). It's just so good and whumpy AND angsty and I'm. OUGH. *CHEF'S KISS*

all the king's horses

fandom: Voltron

whumpee: Keith

It wasn’t the blade sinking into the flesh of his palm, nor the smell of wood smoke and incense permeating the air that woke Keith. Nor was it the weight of iron-wrought shackles hanging heavy from his wrists and ankles. No, it was the sinister giggle in his ear and frigid fingers carding through his head that roused Keith from a dead slumber. He didn’t remember going to sleep at all—in fact, he wasn’t so sure he’d been asleep so much as knocked out. His head ached with a throbbing pulse and he couldn’t quite bring the world into focus. The room was dark, shadows dancing along the dingy wall certainly not helping things. A groan escaped him despite himself. "Don't worry, it'll only hurt for a bit."

By @glitteringconstellations! This fic actually. was the most traumatizing thing I'd ever read HAHAHAHA. Like, not even kidding, I still haven't recovered from it. It's. Like I highly recommend it but it's VERY much horror and VERY creepy and disturbing. AND I MEAN DISTURBING. It's SO GOOD but I was definitely traumatized and not okay after :))

[crowdemoninkinkyboots]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "crowdemoninkinkyboots "?

before i give my fav fics, my username is in reference to sebastian because he’s a crow demon with kinky boots uvu

okay these are in no particular order but here’s my top 10 fics:

Shapeshifter by Honeythief

black butler, sebaciel

y’all this fic broke me. whoever suggested it owes me emotional compensation. but it also hurt so good. it’s in first person which may turn off some people but i promise it’s worth the read

Sanglier by vanroku

twisted wonderland, rookpel with a hint of jackpel

it’s painfully hard finding dead dove/whump content with my fav pomefiore boys, but this is absolutely perfect

Timeless Eternity by GammaRays

demon slayer, kibutan

y’all this fic is dark. but it’s so good. it kinda sparked my thing for captor/captive tropes, and tbh it’s probably my fav kny fic

actually i lied the next two are fics i commissioned i still absolutely adore (they’re also omegaverse lmao)

Knock Knock Little Bunny by mattysones

demon slayer, kibutan

i was so excited for this fic and it was worth the wait. omegaverse + whump is such a tasty combination for me and matty wrote it perfectly. best money i’ve spent.

Torridity by mcpoggy

demon slayer, kanaoi

mcpoggy is usually a giyutan writer and i’m probably going to add one of her other fics here but i absolutely adored how this fic came out. it’s so vanilla compared to the other fics listed but i love it. i need more omegaverse yuri in my life

When I Kissed The Teacher by mcpoggy

demon slayer, giyutan

this is like THE giyutan fic, and also my first bookmark on ao3. it’s also vanilla compared to most other fics on this list but giyutan does have an age gap. it’s super long but i’d alway recommend mcpoggy’s giyutan fics uvu

heads rolling for the one i adore by nyabatos

genshin impact, zhongven

ok i’m INCREDIBLY biased because the author is my best friend but she’s such an incredible writer. it’s also such an interesting au where venti sacrifices his freedom to zhongli to save mondstadt and the aftermath of that deal

The Fall of Mondstadt series by Probabri

genshin impact, kaeluc

whoops my bias is showing again bc i’m also friends with the author but this story awakened kinks in me i didn’t know i had oops

Spear Fishing by reallybadcontent

genshin impact, beidou/fem!reader

ahem. so. i’m not typically into reader pov fics but beidou is. beidou. and i’m a weak lesbian. and ngl i also imagined my oc instead. so. next fic

Dream A Little Dream of Me by BadBadz

black butler, sebaciel

ok i’m being biased again, since this was based off of a tumblr post i made, but i was so happy it inspired someone and it turned out great. of course my fav sebaciel fics have angst in them…it’s like i like hurting myself…

pls lmk if y’all have ever read any of these fics/ur thoughts! i’m sure u all noticed a trend lol

[zanarkandfayth]

Would love to read your answers to questions 3, 9, 13, 17, 18, 26, 29, 31, 32, 50, and, if there's another number (or several) you really wanna answer, please add those too ✨

thank you for the ask!! <33 I wrote you novels in return gjdskglj

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

oooh this one is so hard because I love most of my fics for different reasons, even my older ones (at least the ones on ao3. we ignore the ones left behind on ffnet lmao). hhhh, of completed ones that are posted, imma have to say monsters honestly, because damn did I put some heart into that. but the one I'd probably consider absolute best is the still ongoing, not yet posted 600K+ beast of a fic I usually refer to as "nanofic" that I've been working on since 2019. it won't be everyone's cup of tea, but it just gets so deep into noct's trauma that I inflict on him and his slow recovery from it, more than I've done for any other fic, and I've poured so much blood sweat and tears into that thing, it's kinda everything to me.

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

written, no. been tempted to in the past, but it was too much effort and I already had too many fics for my main fandoms. I have read fandom blind for both harry potter and supernatural in the past though, like lates 2000s into mid 2010s. both were kinda on accident. supernatural in particular is because it kept getting crossed over with MULTIPLE of my fandoms. psych, house md, and criminal minds. so I started reading non-crossover supernatural fics in self-defense gsdklgjdks

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

I mean… this is the first paragraph of one of my fics from my first fandom when I was fifteen. you tell me 😂

"Relena smiled as she sipped her tea and mentally reviewed the day's schedule. 8:00 am- peace talk to the world. 10:00 am- conference with Romefeller. 1:00 pm- try to convince Dorothy to become a pacifist because she was to stupid to understand that Dorothy loved war. Rest of the day- annoy the HELL out of Heero Yuy. Smiling happily again (PLEASE! Her smile is SO annoying), she stood up and was just about to take a step when …. suddenly a freak falling cow killed her!!! =^.^= The gundam boys all burst out of closets around the room and rejoiced."

the biggest change is probably that I actually write well now lmao. and don't character bash. and don't throw author's notes and emoticons in the middle of fics, and have learned to format better, and, and…

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

oh god. let me hide before I answer this. hands down, it's shadows growing. like let me be clear, it's not bad by any means. I'm still fond of it. but I did not have a clear plan when I started writing it, and I really feel like that shows. it was not meant to be a fix-it fic. it was not meant to be a longer fic. it was not meant to be much of anything, tbh. I saw the prompt on the kink meme and the prologue literally started writing itself in my head and I was like "nah idk what I'd do with that" and I scrolled past, but I couldn't focus on reading other prompts and so I went back and just started typing the fic in a reply to the prompt. honestly I figured I'd write whatever I could and then when I left it unfinished, no one would know because I was anon and I had like one fic posted on ao3 for ffxv at the time and I was used to being a complete fandom nobody. the fact that shadows growing got me even somewhat noticed was unexpected and I was not prepared gdjskgjdskl

it definitely affected the fic because once the readers started picking up it made me feel suuuuper stressed and I was so afraid to stray too far from canon because I thought people would hate that??? for some reason??? no there's logic there. I was just overwhelmed. and I do get why people love it, because the whump and the friendship between the boys is really good. but I cannot help but look at it and remember how out of my depth I felt at the time and wish that I had been brave enough to diverge more from canon and smart enough to come up with a better ending. I still suspect there were quite a few people who felt let down by the ending and that's fair honestly. anyways, yeah, it's a good fic and I'm fond of it and most of the attention and the recs it got were in the first couple years of the game being out and I don't begrudge it being my most popular fic, I just. have better ones now I feel like gjsdgjskgsj but maybe not ones as many people would want to read. which is fine with me tbh.

18. What’s your most underrated fic?

the gladio oneshot in my "fayth's daddy issues week" series! (I wrote all those fics so back to back that I can't remember the titles for any of them whoops.) I adore that fic and it got so little attention compared to most of the other fics in that week, or my fics overall tbh. the only one that got even less was the one about iris 🤣 but I don't care much for the iris one either, even though I think it has some stellar banter between the boys and cute/funny prompto/gladio moments. I really love the gladio one though, because it was fun to revisit gladio's pov in a fic and I got to develop a bit of backstory for him that's been evolving into headcanon and there's a good chunk of ignis and gladio friendship that was the precursor to all their friendship in monsters, plus I got to make gladio cry, so. I love it <3

26. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

characterisation, for sure. it's the one thing I agonise over and actually worry about what readers might think at times, especially as I get further away from having played the game to keep it fresh in my mind. so anyone commenting that it feels right makes me roll around on my bed in glee. the other aspect I equally enjoy is people commenting on the emotions. like, that the ones I wrote the characters having feel real/deep, that it made the reader feel them too, etc. stuff like that. cos the emotions are literally why I write fic lol.

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

I am dumb and am struggling to understand what this question is asking, tbh. is it like, do I write for as many fandoms as I read, or something? because fuck no in that case, haha. the only fandoms I've done major writing for (more than one or two fics) are gundam wing, digimon adventure, final fantasy x, and final fantasy xv. and I've read for something like 100 fandoms, idk. at one point I had a list but I stopped keeping track eventually.

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

well… I didn't really understand the concept of characterisation for fanfic until a little before I started writing for ffx. so uh, it's kinda non-existent in my gdw and digimon fics. but once I actively started trying for it… honestly maybe just yuna from final fantsy x. I had some things featuring her meant to be longer fics that were set during the game (most of my posted stuff is set pre-canon, with no yuna in sight) but I never finished and/or posted them because I always felt shaky on yuna's characterisation. I don't think I've majorly struggled with anyone in ffxv to the point that I've felt too dissatisfied with characterisation to post. but at the same time I'm sure none of them are actually perfectly right xD but they FEEL more or less right to me, which is all I care about.

32. Who’s the one character who shines without you even trying?

noct. I mean. he's my blorbo for a reason xD my beloved, I relate to him so much and the rest of it I just project lololol. I make a point to not actually just write myself as noct, cos I personally ain't about that, but it feels very easy to write him without needing to think too deeply about his thoughts/feelings/reactions most of the time. they feel instinctual to me, even when it's something that would differ from my own thoughts/feelings/reactions if I was in a similar situation.

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

YES and the answer to this question is one of the reasons antis/purity culture upsets me so fucking much. it's a personal/sensitive answer though so skip if you don't want to read that xD but. reading rape/sexual abuse & aftermath fics as a teenager is what helped me to understand that, even though there was no outright rape happening, I was still being abused. seeing my favourite characters have the courage to tell someone about their abuse and get help is what encouraged me to tell one of my friends during an AIM conversation late one night when I was sixteen, and she convinced me to tell my therapist at my next appointment, who then told my mom, and yeah let's just say that was a very significant and eventually positive impact (it was a rocky road) on my life. if none of that had happened I genuinely think the CSA would have continued escalating into eventual rape. so thank FUCK for fanfic and I seethe with rage every time some shitfuck anti tries to claim there's no good to be found in such fics. plus in general it just helps with my mental health and I've made plenty of friends through fic over the years, even if they come and go I'm still grateful to have known them for that time, and writing fic is the one thing that gives life any meaning for me, etc. so yeah I'd say at least 99% positive.

and now, I will add a few to answer, because you said I could lmao

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

it is a toss-up between horizon road, an ffx fic featuring a toxic, fucked up relationship between tidus and auron that I still really love, or endless skies, a really self-indulgent digimon fic. they're both old at this point, horizon road I started in 2005, and endless skies was in 2016. horizon road suffers from me having no solid ideas for it beyond the three chapters I wrote, and endless skies is painfully fully outlined, but it was such a hard, research-intensive fic to write for a number of reasons, and now looking at it also just reminds me of an ex-friend who I feel very negative towards (because I talked to them a lot while plotting/writing and they even wrote some of the smut scenes for me, though I've since removed those) and even if I wasn't still deeply entrenched in ffxv, I don't think I could bring myself to ever work on it again :/ which sucks because I did adore it very much.

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

…okay, I think anyone who has read shadows growing and then has also read or even looked at my ignoct fics knows that the ignoct is very much present in shadows growing gjdskgjsk as much as I will swear up and down it's platonic, and people certainly can take it that way if they want, like. come on. it's there. at a point, it very much was intentional. BUT. it did start out accidental. the og prompt asked for either gen or OT4 and I don't ship OT4 so I was gonna do gen but noct and ignis kept blurring the lines when I started writing scenes with them gdsjkgdjkl aaaaand actually I didn't start monsters with the intention of it being ignoct either. (the ignoct bits in the first chapter I actually added in a rewrite of that chapter lmao.) nor the tiny little epilogue in heavy is the burden that nudges into hinting at ignoct territory. fuck, even the ignoct in my very first ffxv wasn't meant to be so overt as it was gjdsklgjks there's also tiny hints of it in some of my fayth's daddy issues week fics (not counting the one that's deliberately and stated to be ignoct).

…actually now that I'm writing this I'm realising very little of my ignoct has been deliberately planned at the start 😂 the sequel to shadows growing, grey skies, was planned, at least xD the promptio that shows up towards the end of the fic was an accident though gjsdkgljslk it just. happened??? I didn't even LIKE promptio when I started writing that fic. huh. maybe accidental shipping is just my thing in writing ffxv fics.

40. Do you feel like you put out enough content?

wanted to answer this one, because, I'm NOT talking in terms of other people here. I don't mean to sound dismissive or ungrateful, because I do appreciate the people who read my fics, it makes me happy, but like. it's not why I write OR post. I'm not "producing content" for people; if someone is unhappy with me for not posting more fics, that's their problem. but in terms of myself… yeah, I do wish I had more to post. not because I feel like I've got some kind of arbitrary quota to meet. like, quite frankly, I have over a million words of fic posted on ao3, and given that I have a single unposted fic that's over 600K alone, I'm positive I have at least 2mil total words written. it's just that I wish I could write more consistently/frequently? I feel like I never write as much as I want to, and I know a lot of it is because of my worsening health, so maybe that's why I just feel so frustrated and dissatisfied with my output, but man, sometimes I look at my number of posted works on ao3 and feel like it's such a low number for how long I've been writing ): both for ffxv specifically and for all my fics total. I know it's silly, but the feeling persists nonetheless.

thank you again for the ask!! I feel happy getting to answer questions and ramble about my fics :D and it was really fun to think about my answers and realise a thing or two haha.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

Whump fics have an audience, obviously, because all of us are here writing and reading it, but it's still a more limited appeal. Any advice for how to deal with discouragement when whump stories you're passionate about don't get any interaction?

I humbly think we’ll have to ask ourselves what the goal we hope will achieve is; do we write for notes and kudos, or do we write because it’s something we’re passionate about and so the act of writing alone brings us joy? this is a genuine question and either of these answers are valid.

I know a lot of us create for both the joy of doing what we love, and also for the validation of getting likes/reblogs/kudos and comments. and as someone who also writes, I understand how much seeing our works get the appreciation they deserve means.

but the thing is, it can also get discouraging when the work we put so much time and dedication into didn’t get as much love as it deserved. I know this is all so very cliche and is easier said than done, but if we really want to have fun in doing what we love, my advice would be that you do it for yourself, not for your followers. and the sooner we can truly accept this concept, the happier we’ll be.

do you get what I’m trying to say here? (because I’m not sure if it makes sense tbh), but long story short, don’t write for kudos or reblogs, write because this is something that you love. being able to do what you love is actually super cool.

sure, kudos and reblogs are amazing, but the sooner we can fully look at them as a bonus, not the main reason we create, the happier and more at peace we will be.

so it’s okay if our works get no interaction, because at the end of the day, we got to write them for ourselves.

repeat after me: I got to do what I love, which is enough. I’ll keep doing what I love because they’re a form of self care and I’m doing what I’m doing for me.

please don’t let the lack of interaction from the audience pull you away from the joy of creating the stories that you love. YOU should be the priority of your works. always.

[lixxen]

hello beloved mutual lixxen. im curious of about danny phantom! ive seen your reblogs of it, and i was wondering if you could explain the premise of it? bc my memory of it was a kids show from nickelodeon, but it seems super popular. is it still running??

anyways it seems kind of fun, im thinking of starting it

Welcome back to Lixx explaining hyperfixations!!

Danny Phantom is a children's cartoon from 2004 that has three seasons and a graphic novel (that came out last year) (the show has been done for twenty years)

It focuses on Daniel Fenton, who is a 14 year old who lives in a small town somewhere in the northern Midwest of the US (near Wisconsin but not in it). His parents are scientists/inventors who are obsessed with ghosts. They create a portal that should bring them to the Ghost Zone, a special realm that ghosts come from, but it doesn't work. Danny does inside of it and turns it on, which turns him into a Halfa. A Halfa is a half ghost, half human. He canonically dies twice in the show. I will not elaborate on how this kid just dies a few times.

The show follows Danny and his friends (and various classmates and reoccurring cast) as he learns how to use his powers and fight off ghosts along the way!

The cast includes:

His older sister Jazz, who is actually a really good big sister who cares a lot even if she's overbearing

Sam, his main love interest who is a Jewish goth girl and doesn't eat meat

His best friend Tucker, who is a techno nerd who loves meat

The A-Listers, who are the popular kids

Valerie, who is a love interest and enemy at certain points

His parents Maddie and Jack, who are overbearing and can be kinda crazy at times

Vlad, his not uncle who is fucking insane and a main bad guy. In love with Maddie

Plus various others!!

The fandom is very active and old. There are regular Tumblr/AO3 events that happen every year with a schedule and there is a steady fanon that has been built around the show that is basically canon (or supported by the canon). The creator, Butch Hartman, is a bigoted asshole who everyone hates.

The show is very fun and it is bingeable. It has a specific formula and is predictable at times. But also, it's very grim because you slowly realize that this 14 year old kid is literally carrying the weight of a realm on his shoulders and is living a double life where his parents basically want him dead and gone while loving his alive self

The fandom loves gore/whump.

I'm not kidding.

I have written a handful of gore fics for this show and tbh they're not even the worst things ever. If you've ever want to see some of the most jaw dropping whump and gore, this fandom has it.

We have fics that are literally the best written alternate universes and have nothing to do with the original show besides characters and death. Like. There's bound books of that specific fic. I haven't read it but it's long and it will make you sob

Some things that are lore building/fanon shit that everyone knows:

Ghost obsessions (you'll know it when you see it)

Ghost cores having specific effects on ghosts (it's canon but not really talked about in canon for more than two seconds)

Danny having allergic reactions to blood blossoms outside of his ghost form

Ghost speak being a ghost language all ghosts speak

Wes Weston and Kyle Weston being unnamed background characters that the fans took and made into full characters. It's actually cool as fuck. They're fully functioning characters and I love them

Death echoes/death days

I will warn that whatever feelings you have regarding to ships needs to be kicked to the side. All things go for ships here. Don't like the ship/don't condone it, don't interact with ir. You will waste your breath trying to play police over ship

Ships also have names. Platonic AND romantic ships. Here's some I can name off the top of my head:

Pitch pearl: Danny/Phantom (Danny gets split into a ghost and human form at one point)

Amethyst ocean: Danny/Sam

Savant Par: Danny/Tucker

Everlasting trio: Danny/Tucker/Sam

Badger cereal: Danny & Vlad (I think????)

Swagger Bishie/Golden Twinkie: dash/Danny

Pink astronaut: Danny/Paulina

Gray Ghost: Danny/Valerie

So yeah lol

This is my most read fic I think. I am gonna start writing again for DP soon. I love reading them

(here's my AO3 fic tags from my bookmarks for DP)

[stupidfuckingwindow]

Turpentine // Henry Letham

Tw; Lots of mention of death, Henry is my favorite whump to put through the shredder. Suicide mention, general angst. You're dead and Henry can't move on. Unhealthy coping mechanisms and such.

Word count: 712

Notes: wanted to write smth kind of long for Henry, tbh.

Henry wasn't too sure of why he was here again. At your old apartment, knowing you aren't here. All you'd left him with was a key, your furniture and Polaroids that don't capture the real thing anymore. His paint and bristles cannot portray the light perfectly on your skin, nor can they shape and sculpt out how you actually felt. There is a distinct perfectionism to his methods, and it still isn't good enough to recreate you. You had flaws, didn't you? How does he manage to paint your imperfections in a way that makes them look perfect, still?

Nothing is ever good enough for Henry Letham. He had wanted to shove you away and pull you from his form the day he'd loved you, peel away the digits that had enveloped his arm. He had hated your warmth, the faint light you had attempted to bring to his pale, bruised and scarred skin. You had been a concept and an idea that had torn him away from his elegant suicide, and he did not like it.

And now Henry is furious with himself for being unable to feel your warmth, your glow again. He hates that he cannot bore you life once more, hold you to him and have your arms wrapped around his lanky figure as though you were a blanket breathing and living. He no longer has your fingers around his arm, pulling him from his comfort zone in an attempt to bring Henry light.

Your apartment is too cold, too still and lifeless without you in it. The lack of artificial light leaves your home in blues and blacks, melancholic and cruelly monochrome.

Are you a person to Henry, now that you are below his feet? You are a memory, pictured frames of thought and wonder that he can no longer share. An orange lens that you used to be, now cracked and dull. Your skin is now pale and unnatural beneath your wooden coffin. Does Henry love you, now that maggots permeate your flesh and bite away at a heart that no longer pumps oxygen and blood? He discovered that he could miss something he never had, study and experimentation you had buried into his chest cavity.

You do not have a car, no longer a home, and lack any mind. The activity of cells producing cells has been permanently halted, and you cannot speak words. No longer do you bang on the bars of your birdcage, singing your song and flying free in the sun when you are let out of your cage.

Henry has learned to think of you as a past he holds onto while he is blessed with the possibility of being the present. He hopes he will not be the future. He lacks the romantic notion of seeing advancement, of seeing human growth and interaction. Henry had hoped that, should you die, it would be the pushing edge to toss himself over freezing rivers and sink. In horrid irony, dramatic and ruining, you have kept his heart beating.

He hates the power you have kept over him, hates that he keeps opening and shutting your door as if you're still in love with the idea of him. He cannot join you, and Henry is afraid. He's scared that he'll have to face his sins as a man would.

He can't beg you to forgive him, no matter how much he's tried to. Late at night before your grave, as though hoping you can still actually hear him. You've forced him to be held by grief and not struggle in her embrace. Henry has to live with his parents death, yours, and the passing of what he thought he knew.

He'd not come for your funeral, afraid he'll see himself in you and love you still.

What is he supposed to do with your ring? Wear it on a thin chain, around his neck? Toss another bit of you away, let you go to the bottom of a lake? No, he'd decided. I still need to hold onto you. That's what you'd want.

Except it isn't, is it? Henry is hoping that it is. Who in their right mind would want to be forgotten?

You don't have a right mind, you're a corpse.