#and i’m not saying they necessarily abused her!!!!!! just that they would feel more comfortable w that because of their sick brain

[cats-jade]

i just found out my friend didn’t even consider this possibility before i mentioned it as if it was an obvious fact, so: do u guys also just immediately figured that victoria justice was picked to be “nickelodeon’s hannah montana” despite not being the best performer because someone had a gross pedo crush on her since they worked w her on zoey 101? like i really hate to say this but i’ve always just thought they made that choice cause it was so comfortable to invest on an actress they had built a relationship with since she was a kid so she probably had a more “compliant” personality because of it

it’s disgusting to think of it but… was i the only one who thought of it??

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Do you think Peeta strangling Katniss affects their relationship in the growing back together phase? Most seem to think it would be Peeta getting reassurance and comfort from Katniss but I find that a little wrong since it was her getting strangled and with the neck covered in bruises

Why does it have to be either one or the other needing/getting reassurance and/or healing from the strangling?

By the end of Mockingjay, both Katniss and Peeta are dealing with complex ptsd, which means both of them have an assortment, a complicated mess of traumas they have to sort through during the grow back together phase. That’s why it’s essential that both of them work with Dr Aurelius. So I absolutely believe that it does impact their relationship, at least a little. But there’s A LOT that is going to affect their relationship during the grow back together phase. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s just a fact of living with ptsd.

I agree with your hypothetical “most” that Peeta would absolutely feel guilt and responsibility over his trying to strangle Katniss. He put his hands on her and physically hurt her, left her marked and unable to speak for a significant amount of time. She needed to be hospitalized for her injuries. As a person with childhood abuse in his past, who we can readily assume wanted to break that cycle of violence, Peeta would be devastated to learn that he did that to Katniss. Just like he was devastated seeing himself throw Mitchell into the barbed net in the Capitol. Hijacked or not, he’s going to have to come to terms with the fact that he did it. He’s going to need reassurance from Katniss over it, and would have to learn to forgive himself as part of their growing back together phase.

As for Katniss… what I’ve seen argued is that she was more concerned with the verbal hurts Peeta inflicted upon her when he was recovering from the hijacking than she was with the physical ones… which I can see the case for this textually. She doesn’t fixate on the strangling itself but on the words he speaks and how she thinks he sees her, the “real” her in her self-loathing, after his hijacking. She almost acts like she deserved that violence against her body.

But here’s the thing. If we can assume that Peeta never wants to repeat the abuse his mother heaped on him by abusing those he loves… he’s going to feel like shit for the things he said to her in his pseudo hijacked phase as well. Peeta internalizes the things his mother said about him. She calls him a “stupid, worthless creature” in Katniss’s memory of the bread flashback. And in Catching Fire, Peeta lashes out at Katniss and Haymitch for keeping secrets from him by saying “Like I’m too stupid or inconsequential” to understand or deserve the truth…

Inconsequential is another way of saying worthless, my friend. He repeats what we know his mother has said about him. Because on some level, he believes that it’s true… symptom of trauma and abuse, my friend.

So of course, even if Katniss fixates only on the cruel things that hijacked Peeta says to her rather than the physical act of strangling her, there are still going to be a host of issues they have to deal with, and eventually, they’re going to have to deal with the strangulation aspect as well.

And Peeta’s no stranger to lashing out physically either. In addition to verbally lashing out, Peeta also physically breaks a lamp in that CF scene. Some people will argue that it’s a stretch, but it is still an indicator of his anger on occasion manifesting as physical ACTION. Lest we forget, he somehow kills Brutus in the Quell, and Brutus is billed as one of the stronger, more ruthless Victor Tributes in that arena. Oh and by the way, Beetee had Peeta’s knife at the lightning tree. So what in the fuck was Peeta armed with when he killed Brutus? His bare hands?!?!

Now, Katniss might not actively fixate on those things during Mockingjay, but I find it highly likely that she would flinch or visibly react to the possibility of physical violence when post MJ Peeta gets angry or distraught… because she knows what he’s capable of and knows that he’s lashed out physically before. And that is absolutely going to affect them both.

Do I think Peeta is abusive towards Katniss? No. Absolutely not. I don’t think that at all. But lemme give you a real life example.

I’m married to someone with ptsd. Some of that is a result of having physical violence inflicted on him personally. Some of it is just from witnessing violence and its results in real life. Some of it is from existing for long periods of time in a place where he was constantly in danger of dying. I have never physically hurt him. But one time, shortly after he came home, I playfully smacked his arm (not even all that hard, Anon) while we were hanging a picture on the wall, we were laughing and teasing each other… and he legit froze, completely tense, and whispered “Don’t… don’t do that again.” I had triggered a flashback.

So there is no doubt in my mind that at some point, Everlark has to deal with Peeta triggering a flashback in Katniss to the moment he tried to strangle her.

Conclusion: It’s both of them that will have to deal with it, will need to heal and need reassurance. I just think that it is going to take a lot of work for both of them to process, deal with, and overcome the verbal and physical violence in their pasts. I think really, the discussion you’re probably seeing right now is simply an acknowledgment that Peeta, as loving and soft as he can be, is also fully capable of violence, and he knows it, and he’s going to have to deal with it. He’s no cream puff. He’s got fire in him and is fully capable of biting back. But acknowledging what he has to deal with in terms of him almost strangling Katniss isn’t necessarily a dismissal of what Katniss will have to deal with alongside him. She’ll just be dealing with it from a different aspect and probably at a different pace.

❤️ kdnfb

[chainofclovers]

15, 23, 26 for the writing ask!

Thanks, friend! <3

15. What’s your favourite plotless fic you have written?

HA! I love the assumptions baked into this question and that you chose it for me. I feel seen.

I scanned through my ao3 and which a bunch of my fics are truly just fueled by vibes, they do have plots--quiet ones--and I don't necessarily wanna discount the quiet or domestic or private as not counting as plot?

But I also have some true zero plot stuff FOR SURE. I think my favorite might be "I'm going, all along" about agnosticism and various religions and how they intersect with Ted Lasso characters, or "neon," in which Ted is worried Beard is going to get bored sleeping with him and Rebecca but doesn't articulate it very well, and Beard books them time in a sensory deprivation tank.

23. Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard?

When people talk about being fully comfortable with one and struggling with the other, I'll admit that I'm actually not sure how that feels?! They are both hard, except for the rare times they are both easy! I think I do generally have an easier time writing dialogue with some light descriptions interspersed, and it's harder for me to write longer descriptive prose passages conveying action or the passage of time or whatever. The stuff I imagine most vividly as I start to write are the busy moments where people are interacting and speaking but also sensing/perceiving/noticing/feeling, so zooming out past that to write pure description is a bit more of a slog.

(I want to know how you feel about this too)

26. What would you describe as OOC?

Answered here, but I actually have a slightly expanded answer if you'll indulge me, so I'll paste the original answer (in italics) + add to it.

It’s a bit hard to put my finger on it. I guess it boils down to the “He would not fucking say that” thing?

But as I think about it, in terms of fanfic, something reads as OOC most often when I just get this strong and very distracting sense that the author is more interested in serving their own motivations or wish-fulfillment fantasies than the characters themselves. Which is a legit thing to do when writing fic, even if I have reader preferences! I have 100% put characters into situations specifically because I just really wanted to spend time with those characters in that situation, and I’m sure there have been people who read it and think it’s OOC even if I try to stay true to character. (Like I’ve definitely had people say they don’t typically think of a certain character as having a specific sexual identity that I might ascribe to them. And I might ascribe it to them both because I personally see it as true to character but also might just wanna explore it for my own queer reasons. To each their own!)

With TL fic, I'm pretty picky about reading about Rebecca's explorations of motherhood, because while her desire for motherhood is an intrinsically important facet of her character, she doesn't strike me as someone who would find it at all satisfying to dive fully into super traditional gender roles (and gender roles that are possibly portrayed as more idyllic or even mythical than they actually feel in real life)...like a situation where she needs her man caring for her and doting on her and defers to the care/wisdom he offers her while pursuing a type of motherhood that wasn't available to her in canon. Canon Rebecca has lived through--and observed--the fallibility of those types of structures and nothing about the ways her desires (sexual, maternal, familial, professional, otherwise) are portrayed onscreen make me want to imagine her launching back into a belief that a super-traditional/conservative gendered structure would work for her, even with her next partner being someone who isn't abusive the way Rupert was.

(And I won't even go down the rabbit hole of trying to articulate why this structure also doesn't seem like something that would be fulfilling for Ted [who tried it and failed and spent 3 years of TV reprioritizing] or Roy [who has deep trust issues] or Matthijs [whom we lack historical information on but perhaps tried it and failed and now lives on a very cool boat] or any other potential dude who could be her partner on the show. But I think those structures often do a disservice to men, too, and will leave it at that.)

And again, like with any other scenario that appeals to a writer, I genuinely understand why this type of nuclear family dream scenario is something a writer might want to explore from within the safety of their own complete control over the story and the characters, and that is a cool thing to be able to do! But when it comes to Ted Lasso characters it's probably the type of thing that I personally am most likely to view as OOC.

That being said, I've read and loved portrayals of Rebecca as someone who "mothers" Henry, Jelka, Nora, Phoebe, biological kids, adopted kids, etc., as well as stories that wrestle very explicitly with her NOT being a mother whatsoever. I just balk at this idea that marriage and pregnancy are what allows Rebecca to get what she """""deserves and that canon was too cowardly to give us""""" (read: what we as viewers "deserve"); it feels very ironic for motherhood to subsume and soften Rebecca after she spent three seasons of a television show clawing her way out of the Rupert Effect and becoming a self-actualized human capable of many types of love on her own terms.

[lockandkeyhyena]

Another ask! Wowie Kazowie. I wanted to say I just went through the Alvin's Infurno tag because I realized you've been answering questions about it and it's prompted me to think about my own anthro story and how much they contrast with each other.

I have some similar themes in mind, including my own 100% terrible character who is also someone who grooms a 16 year old (is also a serial killer but thats a whole other can of worms), however in mine it's more of a commentary on the systemic aspects of grooming and the sexual abuse of teenagers.

Specifically I decided to make the abuser in question a straight, cis white-coded woman in her twenties who had wealthy parents, and her victim (the main character) a latino black-coded queer kid dealing with mental illness.

Though I agree a lot with your philosophies, I made the abuser extremely unsympathetic because personally I was really worried about people excusing the actions of someone adjacent to white femininity. Particularly, a lot of black kids are seen as aggressors and I didn't want to compromise on the main character being kinda shitty because I know myself as someone who can be quite shitty sometimes. So making her as unsympathetic as possible in actions was the compromise I chose in order to highlight how its privilege which allowed her to do what she does to her victims, not skill or being a mastermind. Despite everyone knowing her to be terrible cruel and mean, nobody investigates it because she is harmless to authority as someone in the position of authority.

Seeing your story come to fruition makes me wonder how I would've done this aspect of my story differently had I wanted it to be the whole focus of a story rather than just one piece of my comfort oc's torture nexus. I think it's likely I would have had something similar to your story, but I do think I would've approached hell differently.

I always imagined hell to be a place where people who feel guilty go to, and not necessarily people who 'deserve' (in quotes because its subjective) it go to. Like you I've always found the idea of christian heaven and hell to be strange, I found myself drawn to the idea that the afterlife is a state of mind you walk yourself into.

I love the shitty motel.

I've been in positions where my family was unable to find homes and I've had to stay in motels and hotels on several occasions (i lived in a hotel for three months at one point) and there's something oddly nostalgic to me about being stuck in a place - a motel/hotel - that you're not supposed to be in for a longer time than you should.

Anyways thats my ask box ramble I hope this gives you thoughts? I don't know?

thank you so much for your thoughts! i love it when people come and tell me about their own stories that deal with similar issues. i think in your story’s case highlighting the abuser’s unsympatheticness works given you’re going for a critique of systemic and societal power structures and how they intersect with race. of course you can deal with more than one idea per story but if you’re going for a more straightforward critique rather than an introspective character study, it makes sense to put the brunt of the empathy you want your reader to feel on the victim, rather than the aggressor.

thank you also for your compliments of the motel! i wanted a really liminal feel for it and i’m glad that comes across :)

[redley-of-many-noodles]

Hello there,

Welcome to my blog.

I’m Redley. Relatively new to Tumblr still, but I’ve been finding that I’m comfy here. Though it still feels awkward (thanks, dysphoria), I prefer she/her pronouns. I don’t mind they/them, but… meh. Note that Redley is neither my legal or chosen name; it is solely a handle, and I will only tell you my chosen name if I feel comfortable with you. If I extend that trust, please treat it with respect. If you don’t, I will remember.

Here’s the main stuff I’m comfortable sharing or want you to know about me:

1) I’m transfem, but haven’t had an opportunity to do much actual transitioning yet. Dislike my voice, adore my hair. My luscious, glorious, flowing hair.

1.5) I am likely pansexual, but I haven’t done enough research to know for sure. All I know is, people are… well, people are hot.

2) I live in Florida, but was not raised here. The climate and scenery are nice; the local government sucks ass though. Also, I miss snow.

3) I’m a diagnosed autistic, falling somewhere on the high-functioning end of the spectrum. I’m on prescribed antidepressants, but have not been able to find a psychologist/psychiatrist yet because it’s fucking Florida.

4) There are a lot of things and people I don’t understand, but I’m always open to learning. Trying new food is a special passion of mine, and I’ve met some quite fascinating new people since starting this blog. (*eoughck* @potentially-a-poser *aucghk* @analogue-system *ahem*)

5) I will not tolerate hateful behavior. You will be immediately blocked for shit like denying any of the shades of aro/ace individuals as being part of the LGBTQIA+ community. If you see me spreading misinformation or saying something that excludes members of the community, please tell me. I’ll research the matter, as well as review any sources you send me.

5.5) okay so I think I’m demiromantic

6) I do not mind being tagged or sent asks or otherwise brought into conversations. People who abuse that will likely get blocked, but whatever your social anxiety is telling you probably comes nowhere near ‘abuse’ in my book. Anonymous asks are enabled, but that can likewise change if the feature is abused. Hate asks will be blocked, naturally.

7) I would prefer being asked before you directly message me. If you don’t, there is a possibility you’ll be blocked, but it’s not a guarantee. I don’t want me and my friends’ conversations getting buried by anything.

8) If you consistently and frequently post tiktok/reddit memes with little to no commentary, I may block you simply out of annoyance should you repeatedly show up on my dash. It’s not personal. If something about you makes me suspicious or uncomfortable, but not outright offended, I’ll most likely notify you of my reason before I block you.

9) Age: pick a number between 1 and 100 because it’s none of your fucking business. None of you are entitled to any of my personal information, regardless of the reason. I will share only what I want.

My Behaviors

There are certain things I gravitate towards or away from on this site. Here’s some:

1) I am most likely to follow people who are part of the LGBTQIA+ community, are mentally ill, or are dealing with some variety of personality disorder. This is mostly just due to the fact that I find the most common ground with those people. But even those who I have little common ground with, I’ll tend to find very interesting.

2) I don’t mind things like roleplay and hornyposting on my dash, but will almost certainly not interact myself, or make original posts in that category. More extreme examples won’t necessarily get you blocked or unfollowed, but… well, my filtered tags list may grow.

3) I don’t always tag reblogs. This may mean that my followers will see random things that caught my interest. It could be art, shitposting, tender affirmations, politics, or just goofy-ass Tumblr shit. If something I regularly reblog/post about bothers you and isn’t properly tagged, let me know.

4) I am discovering that maybe, I might, perhaps, be a little bit nosy. When I see someone receiving hate or suffering and stressed, I am likely to take it upon myself to do or say something to try to make them feel better. If I bother you with this, I will not be hurt or offended if you block me. In general, I will do my best to be respectful of it when people draw boundaries, so don’t hesitate to draw any you feel necessary.

5) If your intentions are pure, you will likely find that I try to be forgiving and/or understanding of your mistakes, at least in regards to interacting with me. (The /or is a very important distinction.)

6) I will often be attracted to dark, tragic, or dystopic works of art/fiction. I get a form of catharsis from such media, and some of my writing will reflect that.

That’s about it.

That’s all the important stuff I can think of, aside from tags which are at the end. Still, this post may be updated or rewritten in the future. In general, just be kind and open-minded, and we’ll get along fine. Even if you disagree with me, as long as you are civil and rational about things, I’ll likely have no problem interacting with you.

Be safe, and be yourself! <3

🇵🇸🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

My Tags:

#redley’s playlist - Some of my favorite songs!

#redley’s photos - Photos taken by/of me!

#writing - Writing related things and occasionally stuff I’ve made! (#poetry will also contain some of my work)

#let me just frame this one - My personal favorite posts by others. Put that right up on the wall!

#cw/tw: [content] - I will tag posts that I recognize may be disturbing to others with content warnings and/or trigger warnings. This way, you can filter content that may be harmful to your mental health to view. If a post is missing an important one, let me know.

[kaisacobra]

Thank you for saying that it really means a lot, I actually used to write fan-fiction a couple years back and I’ve recently tried to start again but I’m very critical of what I write and how I write it so I’m incapable of producing a single chapter.

Keep it mysterious, I’ll be eagerly awaiting whatever you gift us ✨

Now that you mention it, yes I completely understand what you mean about R not being able to be extremely cold to Tara. R seems like the type of person who’d be hurt and disappointed, someone who wouldn’t necessarily be cold to Tara but would definitely hide from her. For R I’d imagine it’d be an internal battle of what she wants versus what she deserves, we already get a feel for that in the first chapter but it was easier for her to choose what she wants- which is to provide whatever comfort and happiness Tara wants because she loves her so much over what she deserves- someone who cares about her in a consistent manner and not only when it’s convenient (boo Tara😡). After Tara’s outburst I think R would have to force herself in every way possible to really process that she can’t put Tara’s needs above her own anymore, as much as she loves Tara doing that would reinforce the notion that everything Tara said is true. We know she always runs back but now that’s she’s been ridiculed for it she can’t.

The way she’s always there for Tara makes me wonder about her background. Maybe this is TMI, but I personally have experienced many relationships like this in the past. My father abandoned my sister and I at a very young age, so part of the reason I would always be there for them and never left first even when I should’ve but wouldn’t- was because I never wanted them to feel as unloved and unworthy as I did when my father left me. By the time I was a teenager I’d already forgiven him for all the abuse my family endured because of him, in my heart nobody could ever hurt me the way he hurt me- so I’d forgive them even though the people around me would expressively tell me not to, you know? But im older now and I stand my ground, i can leave when if its what’s best for me and not get too caught up in what’s best for them.

I’m from California by the way! It’s 10:30PM right now, you’re from Brazil though? That’s so cool! Did you grow up there? My parents were born in Mexico but they moved to USA in the late 1980’s, I wanna move to Mexico and live there for a couple years because my mother loves and talks about her hometown so much, the idea of seeing where she grew up in person and picturing her as a little girl warms my heart.

- ☘️ (I’m gonna use this as my anon tag from now on)

I feel like everyone is gonna be critical when it comes to their own stuff, like, I'm not kidding when I said i thought second best wasn't that good, specially because I used to be an essay tutor/monitor at school and my writing had to be more than perfect. Just remember that usually you're gonna be more critical of your work than other people and it doesn't mean that what you write is actually bad.

I'm so sorry that happened to you and I'm glad that you can stand your ground now!💪 I know this will sound oddly ironic but all the background information I have on R is about... Tara. In my head, R is divided by past (beginning of friendship, woodsboro), present (the current mess) and future (what's gonna happen) so, in a way, maybe her life is all about Tara😔

I don't think R's family are gonna make an appearance so I'll leave it up for you guys to hc whatever you want as R's reason for being so attached to Tara.

California seems so nice! And yeah, i grew up here and i wouldn't have it any other way🤭 Maybe this happens to everyone in their own home country but i just love my culture and history so much, I can't imagine living anywhere else.

Mexico sounds super cool! I've been wanting to go there, specially in 2026 because of the world cup (really wanted to see it live) but i dont think it's gonna happen😔 Either way it's a beautiful country i wanna visit someday and i definitely have to start improving my spanish.

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

for the ask game: 001 favorite character (sandman), character you felt the writers screwed up (any media), 002 gabby/pierce, calliope/corinthian [eyes emoji]

Oooh for favorite Sandman character, definitely the Corinthian! He’s just - he’s everything! He’s queer, he’s a fuck up, he’s weird, he’s *trying*, he’s constantly looking to partner up with other people to help him overthrow his boss, he’s manipulative but not necessarily *good* at it. I love that he loves life, and loves humanity in his own way. He’s a nightmare, so his love is nightmarish and monstrous, but he’s so capable of having fun and there is something tragic about him being punished for being true to his nature. I’m not sure he’s really capable of being any way other than what he is, and I adore that for him.

I especially love him contrasted against the collectors - they’re all so full of resentment and spite, they’ve all invented narratives where they’re justified in killing their victims, and the Corinthian doesn’t need that at all! He doesn’t hate his victims! He’s a monster, he doesn’t need to justify what he’s doing. His speech to them was kind of hilarious in that it sort of missed the mark about why *they* kill - most of them aren’t really killing to kill at all! And when they speculate on the reasons for his name, and he kinda demurs?? Because it’s just his name! It’s not some badass moniker he came up with for himself like the rest of them. It is literally just his name.

Character I felt the writers screwed up… urgh, not to drag myself back into the OFMD fandom (yikes), but as someone who binged season 1 and was hella excited where season 2 would take the story… I gotta say Ed Teach. I won’t get too far down this rabbit hole, but needless to say, if you choose to write your co-protagonist and romantic lead as an abusive monster, that’s fine, but please actually follow-through, don’t just hand-wave it all away when it starts to headbutt against the “sunshine friendship&romance” plot you wanna tell

Gabby/Pierce

when or if I started shipping it: Not until I saw that deleted scene a few months ago!! God, I’m still feral over it. That he calls her by a nickname - that there was clearly a friendship between them, if not more – and it makes so much sense with how hyped up he’s acting right after her death, like he’s keeping himself going on willpower and Ritalin, and the way he looks so solemn when he’s telling Caliban people don’t change?? GAH. It’s a ship I didn’t think about for YEARS but has grabbed me right by the throat.

my thoughts: That I love it. That I want it. That there’s an entire movie about Gabby and Pierce’s relationship we only catch glimpses of the tail-end of, and I’ll never stop screaming about that.

What makes me happy about them: That they were friends!! She’s a nurse and he was the Reaver commander, but he *knew* her well enough to know that she loved comic books (like him!) They’re very different people – she doesn’t strike me as someone that would be drawn in to his posturing, and he’s hinted at being kinda nerdy and quiet at points in the movie where he’s not fronting, and I love the implication that she saw a side of him he doesn’t normally show to people.

What makes me sad about them: y’know it’s a tough call, but probably the part where she gets killed either by him or his Reavers on his command 😭 although it does add a deliciously tragic edge to it too

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: that there’s not more of it!

Things I look for in fanfic: assuming there was more fanfic of the two of them, I’d probably look for fanfics that explored Pierce being… maybe not *softer*, but more vulnerable with Gabby, but without making him OOC (I like my boy with his off-putting, nasty streak!) Them being drawn in to the aspects of each other that they don’t feel as comfortable showing is *chef’s kiss*

My kinks: ooh definitely femdom, CNC (i can see them switching roles for that one), pegging, and MFM threesomes with a “forced bi” roleplay element, light bondage

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Probably Logan!

My happily ever after for them: Gabby was just faking being dead and digs Pierce out of the ground 😭😭 Always in love with endings where Pierce gets to be her extra good guard dog

Calliope/Corinthian

when or if I started shipping it: A while back (maybe a year ago now?) a friend of mine in a server drew a gorgeous piece of Calliope/Corinthian art (the one I attached to the tumblr post linking to my story, with their permission), and I was hooked after that!

my thoughts: Corinthian deserves a better master than Dream tbh, and I love him with an actual goddess who understands some part of his whole personhood situation. Someone who respects him as an individual, but also understands that if he doesn’t have someone holding his own leash pretty tightly (and giving him plenty of enrichment and affection), he’s gonna go off and do *sooo* many murders because that’s just who he is. And I love Calliope getting to indulge in some messy sex after her ordeal, with someone that just adores her for *her* and not that she’s a muse

What makes me happy about them: that their needs have the capability to balance out pretty well!! That I can see Calliope as someone who can survive and thrive with the Corinthian, and I think the Corinthian would be better off under her, too.

What makes me sad about them: when i remember they probably have met before, in happier times when Orpheus was still alive, and we’ll likely never see it 😭 did Calliope like Dream’s favorite nightmare?? Did she pamper him like a treasured pet? Was he jealous of her for her closeness to Dream? Did he adore having someone around that treated him with a softer touch?

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: again, that there’s just not really fanfic for them! 😭

Things I look for in fanfic: (assuming there was more to choose from!) really anything exploring the power dynamics between a nightmare with daddy issues and a goddess that’s spent the last 70 years imprisoned. I don’t think they could ever be regular boyfriend/girlfriend, free of power imbalance, but that’s what I adore about it

My kinks: femdom, Calliope as a masochistic dom, CNC with Calliope as the “victim” (specifically love her reclaiming herself and her sexuality & reconciling some of her trauma through some CNC), gentle domme, primal play, orgasm control/denial

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: honestly, I just love giving Call the Corinthian. I’m not sure I really ship her with anyone else - although Calliope/Destruction tickles something in my brain too. And for Corinthian, definitely Rose

My happily ever after for them: she gets to keep the Corinthian and he’s her pampered and very enriched monster 😌😌

[whumpurr]

Carus pt. 5

cw: intimate whumper, drugging, alcohol abuse, pet whump, defiant whumpee, age difference (both adults), male whumper, male whumpee

masterlist

--

Christopher started looking for trainers as soon as he tucked Carus into bed with him. The pet was tired from his tears already, so he slipped into sleep easily, constricted in the layers of comforters and sheets.

The light from Christopher’s phone cast his face in its pale blue. He scrolled through various listings on the internet. Most places were much further than he cared to take Carus. And he wanted Carus to come back home every day, so boarding him was not an option.

Eventually he found a listing for one Madam Eliza. She was nearby, only about a ten minute drive. She hosted the training out of a rented space, she had several other pets that she was training, and she had stellar reviews. Many people claimed that she effectively broke their rebellious pets.

Carus did not necessarily need to be broken, he was not that poor off just yet, but he would surely benefit from having someone who could guide him with a stern hand.

It was decided. The next morning, Christopher would be taking him to Madam Eliza’s and see if they were a nice fit together.

--

Carus awoke to a soreness in his chest and the heavy warmth of Mr. Christopher’s comforters on top of him. He got cold easily, so he was more than thankful for the warmth. He reached out to his side and found nothing but empty sheets and blankets. Mr. Christopher must have gotten up already, maybe he was at work. That meant that Carus had to get up and begin his chores. He only hoped that that woman was not there again.

It was a surprise to Carus when he trod down the steps and was greeted not by Josephine, but by Mr. Christopher himself, sat at the dining table with two plates of breakfast in front of him. It was rare that Mr. Christopher was still home when Carus woke up on a weekday. Carus was immediately put on edge, feeling a dread in his stomach as though he had done something wrong. Was Mr. Christopher still upset about yesterday? He wouldn't be surprised-

"Come sit, Carus." The seat next to Mr. Christopher was even pulled out already, eggs and toast on the plate in front of it. Carus had no choice but to take the seat, nervously looking down at the meal before him, hesitant to meet Mr. Christopher’s eye contact.

“I’ve found somebody who can give you some formal training on my behalf. I’m usually too busy to teach you, but…” He paused to take a bite, “If you so dislike Josephine, you can be trained to fully take her place and fulfill all the necessary duties around the house.” Mr. Christopher took a sip of his coffee. He did not tell Carus about how he may even be trained to be complacent with the presence of others in the home. Like a reactive dog, Mr. Christopher knew that he could not simply allow Carus to carry about throwing tantrums every single time someone came over.

Carus nervously took his fork and knife in his hands and started to eat, knowing that he would be disappointing Mr. Christopher if he didn’t. The idea of getting formal training did not sit right with him in the slightest, but if Mr. Christopher wanted it… Who was he to say no? He loved Mr. Christopher, after all. He couldn’t say no to him.

“We will be leaving soon. Make sure you eat enough.”

The room fell quiet, save for the scraping of utensils against ceramic plates. Carus was grateful for this meal, it wasn’t common for him to be able to eat Mr. Christopher’s cooking while it was still hot and fresh. It was usually in glass containers in the fridge that he would microwave. The fresh food sat heavy in his stomach though. He was far too nervous to appreciate it as much as he wanted to.

Carus only managed to stomach half of it before he was pushing the plate towards the center of the table to show Mr. Christopher that he was finished. When his owner did the same, Carus got up and cleared the table for the both of them, putting the dishes into the dishwasher and going to nervously stand next to Mr. Christopher.

“Go get yourself ready. You may be spending the day there.” He said, looking at his phone. Carus took a deep breath and moved upstairs to get himself dressed.

The idea of dressing inappropriately did cross his mind. There was the notion of maybe if he behaved poorly enough, then the instructor would simply not take him.  Yet, he knew that that would invoke the ire of both Mr. Christopher and the instructor, which would probably bite him in the ass later.

He found the loosest shirt he owned, which was not that loose, and pulled it on. It was at least more comfortable than his usual tight tank tops and latex crop tops on his new piercings, but it was still far from a good feeling. It made him wince when he twisted his body and his chest rubbed against the fabric, but he would just have to try his best to ignore it. He pulled on some knee length shorts, because all his long pants were either skin tight or formal.

Carus spared a glance at the mirror in his room and cringed. He looked young and childish dressed like this, two things that he tried his best to stay away from. He wanted to be- or at least look- mature for Mr. Christopher. Carus thought for a moment, and realized that he didn't remember how old he was. He brushed that idea to the side and slipped on some sneakers, heading back downstairs to meet Mr. Christopher.

He held back a shudder at the way Mr. Christopher looked him up and down with a slightly disapproving gaze. Carus should have known that he would not like this immature outfit, but it was all he had.

"Remind me to get you something else to wear." Mr. Christopher folded and set down the newspaper he was reading, putting it next to his empty plate. Carus thought about arguing for a moment, but squashed that down. He wanted to spend the least amount of time possible with this so called 'instructor', so he had to be on his best behavior. He wasn't sure why exactly he was getting sent to someone to be taught, but he figured that if he just showed all around improvement then it should be enough to exempt him.

Mr. Christopher put Carus in the passenger seat of his fancy black car and pulled out of the garage. The drive was tense, silent, and while it was short, it felt like an eternity. They left the expensive neighborhood that they lived in and Mr. Christopher brought Carus to a well off business district. It was by no means poor, but it was below the standard that Mr. Christopher usually set. He parked in front of the building. It was a small, boxy, modern, two story building, with no windows on the second floor. It was painted white, with natural wooden accents and some plants planted in the front yard, surrounded by large smooth grey stones. The two walked down the paved walkway up to the door and Mr. Christopher knocked twice.

A mature, pale skinned woman opened the door. She had a stern look to her face, her dark hair in a tight bun. She looked majestic and intimidating in her age, though she hardly looked past fifty. Carus looked up at Mr. Christopher, wondering if he was actually serious about this.

"Madam Eliza?" Mr. Christopher extended a hand, which the woman took in greeting.

"Pleased to meet you," She nodded, "This is the one you called about?" She didn't even look down at Carus.

"Yes, he's the only pet I have."

"Right, that often poses problems," She released Mr. Christopher's hand. "When they don't need to compete, they have more energy for misbehavior."

The thought of that irked Carus. Another pet? No, he wouldn't allow Mr. Christopher to ever get another pet. The heat of competition and jealousy made his cheeks flush a tad. As if she had read his mind, Madam Eliza spoke up,

"Well, so long as he behaves and learns, you hopefully won't find a need for another pet to discipline him." She clasped her hands loosely behind her back. She had a regal air about her that made tremble. "Just a trial run today?"

"Yes, I expect you to tell me later about how he did."

With that, she brought Mr. Christopher into the building, Carus tailing behind. The inside of the building was a clean, sterile room, vaguely reminiscent of a dentist's reception area. She brought him to a tall desk and slid a stack of papers over to him, instructing him where to fill them out and what each section meant. Carus couldn't believe that he was being handed over so easily, like nothing.

"Thank you for trusting your pet with us," Madam Eliza said, while Mr. Christopher gave Carus a heartbreaking nudge towards her. He obediently stepped forward to stand beside the instructor. "He is in good hands. We look forward to updating you about his progress."

With a short wave, and nary another goodbye, Mr. Christopher left for work. The air was colder and more opressive than it was just a moment ago as Madam Eliza turned and stood in front of Carus, facing him for what felt like the first time.

"We must get you changed, this way." She stepped forward, past the pet. They boarded an elevator and were taken to the second floor. Immediately on this other floor, the building felt different. They exited into a small hallway, with a cabinet that Madam Eliza opened and retrieved clothes from. Doors lined the hallway, and Carus was handed the clothes and directed into one of them.

It was a small room, hardly big enough for him to fit in, probably the same size as that cabinet. A single light shone down from the ceiling onto him. He stripped down and slowly stepped into the plain, boring beige shorts and the loose white t-shirt. It wasn't much different from what he had come in wearing.

"Leave your clothing there," Madam Eliza called through the door, "It will be returned to you at the end of the day."Nervous, Carus stepped out to meet her. His feet didn't want to move, his limbs statuesque, yet he knew that if he didn't behave, he would only receive more punishment. His chest stung as he followed Madam Eliza down the hall.

[shipcestuous]

Regarding that last anon: There are plenty of CONSENSUAL relationships (both incest and not, IRL and fiction) that happen because both parties bond over some kind of trauma, so why do people only ever make it a problem when it's an incestuous relationship? Also, a relationship formed due to bonding over trauma does not make that relationship abusive. (Hope this doesn't come off as attacking that anon, it just... irked me.)

[x]

I agree, Anon, and I think those are really important points to make. There's always that double standard grinding us down.

The anon sent in some clarifying messages so I'll append those here:

1/3(I’m the anon before, a bit worried that I sounded like I was judging you or others for shipping. Just trying to explain that even you’re not puritan and go “Ew, gross!” you might see some potentially uncomfortable aspects.) I’m a psychology addict and it’s hard for me to overlook that romantic/sexual relationships between siblings often seem to be a result of kids being deliberately isolated from the outside world, being co-dependant or not managing to create healthy relationships.

2/3 (And no, that’s not the same as saying they’re not attractive in anyone else's eyes.) It’s often revealed that it’s hard to make more “standard” connections with anyone else afterwards (but maybe that’s seen as a plus in fiction?) and that the relationship might be unbalanced with one more manipulative partner even though they’re close in age. It’s like I want to be open-minded to it, at least in fiction, but there’s complications that keeps rubbing me the wrong way.

3/3 But I’m also very pro “let people read/write/draw/enjoy what they want”, I would never harass anyone or support harassment, so I’m very pro-your blog even though I don’t love every sibling ship or every aspect about sibling shipping, if that makes sense. It’s a very friendly place, which is rare in fandom these days :)

I respect your perspective, Anon, and I appreciate your attitude. And as to your earlier ask, I answered it in a hurry and I probably should have taken more care to show that I wasn't offended by what you said.

I think the kind of incestuous relationship you're describing here is not what most of us enjoy shipping. Even if it has the blueprint to play out like that - like Cathy and Chris from Flowers in the Attic, for example, or Daemon and Rhaenyra - that's not the way I would ship it.

But I guess I feel like even if two characters are traumatized and screwed up, just because an incestuous relationship might make worse doesn't mean it necessarily would. Just because one partner might be manipulative or exert power doesn't mean it would be that way. Even if it usually would make it worse, there's still the cases where it wouldn't. And we're just hanging out and shipping so if every story we tell ourselves is unlikely, why the hell not? We can do that.

If anything it's the shame of incest and incestuous feelings, coming externally from society, that would damage someone further. There was this segment about an adopted woman who found out that her parents were brother and sister. She never told anyone and decided not to marry or have children because she thought they would have genetic defects. When she finally told her adoptive family decades later, of course they all said that it didn't change how they felt about her. And of course what she thought would happen re: children was not correct. That wasn't incest's fault. That was shame and society.

Anon, I think you must have read something on here that was phrased in a way that gave you the wrong impression. Or maybe I said something casually that didn't really represent what I really think. I'm OK with people not being comfortable with incest. But someone saying it's impossible for a consensual healthy incest relationship to exist is what I disagree with. And if it's possible, then why not this ship, or that ship. Etc. Why not Daemon/Rhaenyra? Just because the evidence could point one way doesn't mean it is pointing that way. If someone looks at Daemon/Rhaenyra and reads grooming and manipulation, and is uncomfortable, that's totally fair, but to treat that like it's the universal truth is what I object to.

When we talk about antis, we're talking about attackers, and especially ones that make false or blanket statements or conflate incest with rape. We're talking about people who aren't allowing for possibilities. We're not talking about people who don't like incest ships or aren't comfortable with them. We're just touchy because we get attacked a lot, and because backlash can affect the kind of content we get, and we get so little good incest content. Also, I probably have not acknowledged in any meaningful way that not everyone who dislikes incest shipping or even who hates incest shipping is attacking shippers or being unreasonable. Which I think was one of the main points you were getting at in your first ask.

And while we think education and exposure and great canon ships might begin to change some of those feelings for some people, there certainly exist a lot of incestuous relationships, not just sexually abusive ones, that we shouldn't be comfortable with. And I fully acknowledge that.

But I know you have a live and let ship attitude and you're anti-harassment so I think that's great. That's what's important.

I don't want to debate, or change your mind, I just don't want there to be any wrong impressions. And that's why you spoke up, because you didn't want us to have wrong impressions about 'the other side' either. So I thank you for that.

[tkblythofficial]

Unshiping couple anon here.

Let's call this couple A and B so it'd be easier to follow along with it.

A being the female and B being the male. They met in a TV show but never got together in it, but were very close friends that'd constantly say how much they loved each other.

Once the show ended a bunch of stories of them being an item started coming out and a part of the fandom did what fandoms do best and started invading their privacy and doing a bunch of shit they definitely shouldn't do like hacking their phones, making fake news about them up and so on.

Well, after a fake news that broke talking about how she was disappointed that he allegedly ask to meet other women he was obviously angry and made a story telling point blank he and she were never bf/gf and that they never got together which BTW is a lie but that's besides the point

After that people starting say incredibly abusive stuff about him, telling to k*ll himself, wishing that he'd die and all that horrific stuff.

Months have passed since that happened but another fake story broke that started the whole shit again, and yet again she didn't say anything, do anything and the only thing she did was let her fans know she was taking action but I know for a fact that isn't because of the hate he's been getting but ro save face.

I know for a fact they are in a situationship behind the scenes, but the more I think about it the angrier I get about the fact she knows most of her fans are doing this shit and still constantly interacts with them and tries to compare us (the known shippers with this sort of people).

And I know they are also in different places of their lived, which is fine, she just started her influencer career while he had an established career already, but I get this sinking feeling that she's just so comfortable in his love for her that's she's stringing him along even if she doesn't realize it yet.

Do I necessarily think she should say something to her piece of shit fans who keep haressing someone she once called her friend? I don't know, bur she's been constantly disappointing me for months now and I don't know if I'm exaggerating or not

Hi Anon, I read this a few times to try and give my honest perspective.

A and B sound like a young couple? Maybe age gap? You mentioned A was an influencer so I’m assuming she’s on the younger side?

Either way, it sounds like A is letting this fake drama carry on for attention? Some people thrive in drama because it keeps people talking about them. It could be A doesn’t know how to address it and is tired of everything so she’s letting it continue without addressing her fans? A might be scared of the hate coming towards her if she tells her fans to stop

Sounds like B doesn’t really like her if he denies being in a relationship with her? It sounds like they have an on and off again type relationship which is toxic. And her fans are fueling drama by not having any boundaries. B might be disappointed and angry with A, more hurt about the situation.

Unfortunately this is typical fandom drama.

So I would advise you to:

1. Slowly distance yourself from the fandom and drama to leave permanently. Since the TV show ended, the fandom will naturally die down anyways and the real shippers will remain.

2. Temporarily leave the fandom until the drama is over or A and B officially end their situationship so at least you have closure. Take a break mentally if you need to.

3. Maybe not the healthiest advice but find a new fixation. I’m serious. It’s easier said than done but put your energy into something else/ a different fandom

4. Accept that you no longer like A so her nonsense doesn’t disappoint you.

To me, you’re no longer a fan of hers and you’re sad / angry about it because you thought she was better than what she’s currently doing.

The disappointment will pass eventually. I don’t think you’re exaggerating - your feelings are very valid.

[badedramay]

i definitely agree actors should be able to have fun and do things out of the box, that test their limits, etc., but i also feel like those are things you can do while honoring some semblance of artistic integrity. my view is less that pemra recognition should be held up as a standard wholesale and more that if you’re going to star in a work where the highlight is on the long lasting harms of the sexual abuse of women then choosing a work that involves the near complete degradation of its female mc is in poor taste. and i do understand where she might have gotten the idea originally of it being an empowering role given meerab’s take no shit attitude, etc. but in the end if you still can’t take any criticism after having seen where your work and character ended up i do think people can raise some eyebrows. being able to walk away from a work having acknowledged both the love you received and the areas you could have improved on is a good quality to have. it’s something i really appreciated from the kuch ankahi writer-director team recently, bc they were very comfortable with the criticism and willing to acknowledge where they faltered. accountability from the production team is a very pertinent factor as you mentioned and definitely influences how the actors talk about the work themselves, but the actors still have a choice between the scripts they’re offered at the end of the day esp once they’ve built up the requisite resume, and i think constantly putting the onus on production does strip actors of an accountability they do need to have somewhat. i’m definitely hoping tere bin is a rare abnormality in her resume but i don’t know what any seasoned actress really thinks they’re going to gain from picking a script where a domineering and hypermasculine male lead is romanticized. it just feels way too old and recycled atp to justify if you’re not still struggling to get any work in the industry

i don't think the situations of KA and TB can be compared. KA hardly made any impact on the pop culture conversations while TB did. i mean Yumna is literally out there modelling for a 100k+ pkr joda that's literally named after her character in TB. she's benefitting from her work. artistic integrity is good and all but when the choice comes down to sticking with artistic integrity or having a job then only very few extremely rare actors will choose to do the former. and they are the ones who have some sort of security net to fall back on which I don't think Yumna has as I have only ever seen her as an actor.

imho Yumna is still very much an actor that is only as good as her previous work. she is known for her projects but beyond that her presence has been limited if not non-existent. why else wouls be doing consistent work on TV only? she belongs to no powerful camp that would offer her work in a big big project after years of absence (Sohai making a comeback with a Humayun Saeed project) nor does she have the love and affection of this country's star makers (a privilege Mahira Khan enjoys) and she most definitely does not rub shoulders with the powerful honchos of the country (Mehwish Hayat). her full time job is that of an actor and I believe that means her choices are vastly different from her peers regardless of them being contemporaries. you mentioned Sajal in the previous ask and how she doesn't compromise on the social message of her projects now that she has made a name for herself. well I'd say because Sajal has different connections than Yumna hence she can afford to make choices that Yumna can't. Sajal has starred in two international movie projects and moves in different circles. the scripts she gets offered don't necessarily land up on Yumna's table. and vice versa.

Yumna's real integrity as an actor, from what I have observed, is that she wants to do modest work. even when she romances she does so without any explicit sexual overtones in it (TB romance was hot but not uncomfortable to watch with family). 'glamour' is not her forte nor does she want it to be. so while the other actors were busy pursuing the big screen dreams with their big dance numbers..Yumna was doing intense work. and now others are chasing intense work on tv, Yumna is wanting to do the mainstream masala on her own terms. different people, different arcs. again..just my observation.

TB regardless of its flaws is a HUGE success and is now a new benchmark of popularity. no conversation about PakDramas is without the mention of it and its actors. which seasoned actor wouldn't want this level of success???? aap jitna bhi socially aware kaam kyun na karlo agar logon ko yaad hi nahin rahega kyunke unhon ne dekha hi nahin hoga toh phir faida? actors and artists want to experience acknowledgement in present. not some distant future jab har cheez pe dhool mitti padi hogi. PakEntertainment industry is one where even the icons of the past vanished without a trace because they were unable to or weren't allowed to secure viable sources of income to sustain them when work stopped coming. the actors now are more aware that long term sustaining doesn't just come from doing socially conscious work all the time but also doing something mainstream that brings them easy money. and i see no problem in that. capitalism ka zamana hai aur ghar sab ne chalana hai.

[realitycurrents]

There is an indignity faced by daughters abused by their mothers. Your life becomes a paradox. A woman in and of herself is “supposed” to be nuturing, warm and care for her children inherently. The idea of deviation from that “natural order” is unfathomable to most people. I’m sure some would say that the deviant woman is the one seen as an anomaly but in my experience it has been the daughter who is the anomaly in the eyes of everyone else. It isn’t necessarily that they do not believe that your mother hurt you (although this can certainly be the case), it’s that they cannot conceive that it was for no noble reason, that it was not out of love for you or righteous anger for some sin you committed at five years old. They cannot conceive that although your mother hurt you, you cannot still afford her your unending admiration and respect. You are the ungracious daughter. A deviant of another kind.

When you speak in frustration of your mother abusing you even just a few times in desperate need to express it, you begin to feel shame. You feel anticipatory embarrassment because the people about you, sympathetic as they may be, shift in discomfort, flippantly roll their eyes as if to say they think you’re being dramatic. They speak to you in little pleasantries, soft defense on behalf of a woman they know nothing of save for the fact that she was willing to harm her daughter. They might say something to the effect of “Moms aren’t perfect—” (the beginning of a socially acceptable hand waving), or “A mistake” is what comes out out of their mouths as if it will comfort you to think of what terror and harm you faced at her hands as something that happened accidentally and easy as forgetting your keys.

Yes, your mother beat you, yes, she neglected you, yes, she allowed others to do more but why are you still angry about it? Why do you still complain about it? Don’t you understand how much she gave up to bring you into the world? How difficult you must have been as a horrible little thing, a baby then a child? You owe her for that. How can you treat your mother like you do? Why can’t you just get over it? Your mother is a saint by mere fact that she did not kill or leave you abandoned somewhere. She could have rid herself of such a hopeless thing, a daughter, but she didn’t. You are lucky she didn’t.

When a woman or girl expresses any frustration about her mother, or that others have relationships with theirs that she had no chance of having, there is little sympathy afforded. Only for a daughter hurting because of her mother could other women choose to pithily reply something to the effect of “Sorry not all of our mothers hated us” and have thousands of strangers laugh and agree. Why is that something I have seen so frequently hurled at girls obviously hurting and I’ve yet to see it lobbed at someone hurting because of a father and received uncritically? Because the idea of a bad mother does not compute to those who do not have one. Their mother (and thus their singular lens of all mothers everywhere) loves them so very much so if yours does not — it must be your own fault. It’s not a misfortune, it’s not victim blaming because there is no victim, just a spoiled and unlikeable girl who failed to obtain her mother’s love as if it were commodity. You must understand your mother, as if understanding why the wound was dealt could ever change the fact that it bleeds. A woman should be a forgiving creature, a gracious and pious being. So forgive her and beg her forgiveness for bleeding so much when she only meant to hurt you just a little.

She only hurt you because she was hurting, although you remember that she treat you as a flask for her anger, you must remember that although it is her hateful eyes looking down at you and her hands delivering blows, her pain swallows yours. What gives you the right to be angry at her when pity is a far more noble thing for a woman to feel? If your mother is not evil, then she is good and if she is good then the sin is in your name.

[lotusthewriter]

See Me, Feel Me

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Rating: G

Relationships: Connor/Markus, Connor & Amanda

Characters: Connor, Markus, Sumo; MENTIONED - Amanda

Summary: Markus seems… nervous. Connor tilts his head in curiosity.

“Well, uh… I got something for you,” the former says with a bashful smile.

He takes a little while, even clearing his throat, before he finally reveals…

A bouquet of red roses.

The warmth inside Connor is instantly suppressed by the cold.

Word count: 1.316

TRIGGER WARNINGS - past abuse and trauma

--

They agreed to meet in the park in the cold morning. Connor doesn’t necessarily require warm clothes, but Hank was insistent as usual. He admits that they’re at least comfortable, and he likes the modest style of his clothing choices rather than the suit full of symbols he used to wear.

So, here he is in the park bench, Sumo munching on a large stick he found. Markus loves Sumo, so Connor always borrows the dog. He can’t help taking lots of pictures of the two bonding every time they meet.

It’s early morning, so the sun is still timid in the sky, a plethora of colors astounding the landscape. The park is not completely empty, it’s comforting and safe enough. Connor likes coming here in this time of day, where the sun is softly warming him. Not that the heat makes much of a difference, but he feels… a different kind of warmth. One that comes from the inside. Since deviating, these feelings have been a lot more common. They’re not anywhere explainable, but it’s not a bad thing.

Connor is distracted by the colorful sky, only to return to reality once Sumo suddenly stands to greet whoever is nearby. Connor calls his name seriously before the big dog gets to jump on Markus and knock him over, even if the RK200 doesn’t particularly mind. In either case, Connor notices Markus is only using one arm to give Sumo attention, while the other is behind his back.

“Okay, Sumo, sit,” Connor orders. At least Sumo listens to him more than he does Hank, much to the older man’s dismay.

Markus snorts, giving the Saint Bernard one last pet before he gives his full attention to Connor.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Markus seems… nervous. Connor tilts his head in curiosity.

“Well, uh… I got something for you,” the former says with a bashful smile.

He takes a little while, even clearing his throat, before he finally reveals…

A bouquet of red roses.

The warmth inside Connor is instantly suppressed by the cold.

Everything around him seems to disappear – Sumo’s panting, Markus’ smile, the people walking in the distance, even the sun –, as it’s only the vibrant red of the delicate flowers. They’re perfect roses, carefully selected, and yet so fragile, that will be dead in only a matter of days, no matter what Connor does to keep them alive. Nothing he ever does will be enough for the roses.

“… you didn’t like it.”

Markus’ voice is wracked with guilt.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought—” the deviant leader retracts his hands, no longer holding the bouquet with delicacy. “I knew I should’ve asked first, yet I didn’t—”

“N… No! No, that’s not…”

Connor tries his hardest not to stare deeply into the red roses, as Markus’ blue and green eyes mean more to him than anything else.

“It’s… not that I don’t like them,” Connor explains, “they just… reminded me of something.” He pauses. “Of someone.”

Markus raises an eyebrow. “Someone?”

Connor hesitates, as he’s never talked about… her with anyone before. Not even Hank knows. He certainly never meant for anyone to know after what had almost happened during Markus’ speech.

He knows Markus won’t and would never force him to say anything – the deviant leader is the most patient person Connor has ever known, and he’s very grateful for it… but he doesn’t want Markus to believe that the problem is him. It’s Connor. And most importantly, Markus deserves much more honesty than what the latter has been giving him this whole time.

“… I had… a handler.”

At that, Markus sits on the bench Connor previously was. He and Sumo watch him tell his story.

“An A.I. named Amanda,” the former detective continues. “She was there for me since I was first built. She was the mediator between me and CyberLife, and I would regularly give her reports, and in turn, she would give me my missions.”

Connor finally looks at the roses on Markus’ lap.

“She… really liked roses.”

For a moment, he feels warmth again.

“Sometimes, she even let me help her take care of them,” Connor recalls, unsure if he’s disgusted by this warmth or not. “I don’t know why since she only treated me like a tool, like an obeying machine. But before everything, she was kind to me. She taught me everything there was to know about myself, about the world… she was the one who built me who I am.”

The other android is quiet the entire time, bearing an attentive, though sad expression.

“I… I felt like I had to please her,” the RK800 resumes. “So, whenever I showed signs of deviancy, she would disapprove. She would threaten me that she would replace me if I didn’t accomplish my mission. And… it hurt.”

This is perhaps the first time Connor has ever said it this way.

It hurts, but not as in a physical injury. It hurts from the inside.

“When I deviated, I felt like I betrayed her. I knew what she would do to me. But then…” he gulps. “She revealed that my deviancy was planned.”

He feels… something stinging in his eyes.

Tears?

This is the strongest feeling he’s had since deviating.

“S-She tried to take over me.” Connor can’t bear to look at Markus in the eyes anymore. “She almost made me…”

He senses Markus standing up. “Connor…”

“I almost killed you.”

Everything feels colder now.

“You were making your speech while inside, I was battling for control. It was so cold… so hard to see…” Connor is hugging himself the same way he did inside the blizzard in the Zen Garden. It was the first time he felt cold, like he was about to freeze in nothingness. “If it weren’t for the exit, I would’ve…”

“Connor.”

“I-I’m sorry, Markus.”

“Connor, it’s okay.”

There are gentle hands on each of his arms, rubbing them softly. The bouquet of roses has been abandoned in the bench.

“You did it. You’re here, you’re free,” Markus reassures him. “You saved me.”

Connor sniffs.

Oh, he’s really crying now.

The tears feel like ice on his face.

“I thought- I thought you would never forgive me.”

“Connor, you were controlled by them. Just like all of us. Freedom was out of our reach. It only happened because of our own will, because we are alive. You are alive.”

Markus raises a hand, only to wipe Connor’s tears.

He looks down in shame.

“… I hate that I miss her.”

Connor has never admitted this, not even to himself.

“I hate that I still love her.”

“Feelings can be messy and complicated, and that’s alright.”

Markus opens his arms as an invitation, and this time, Connor doesn’t hesitate to accept it. Thanks to Hank, he’s grown to really like hugs, like he’s needed them from the very beginning.

Connor doesn’t feel cold anymore.

His once unstable systems finally stop overriding his senses, and Connor is able to think and sense the world around him again. Especially…

Sumo is making strange, loud noises.

“… Sumo, NO!”

He’s eaten the flowers.

Markus bursts out laughing while the RK800 apologizes way too many times. Thank goodness the roses don’t have any prickles, or else Sumo would’ve gotten hurt. Connor barely saves the flowers, the petals pretty much torn into pieces.

Well, there’s really no use for them, so Markus throws them in the nearest garbage can. Later, he buys Connor a bouquet of a variety of flowers, no roses included. Connor keeps them away from Sumo’s reach this time.

Despite still retaining some complex feelings for Amanda, the rest of the morning is pleasant like they always are.

Connor will find himself looking at Markus, who’s holding Sumo’s leash, and then he’s hiding his smile in the bigger bouquet, smelling the soft, sweet fragrance of the flowers.

He feels… a different kind of warmth this time.

[casuallyimagining]

Fix You (1)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?  Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 3,660 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: This is for the March project for @thebtswritersclub. The prompt word was ‘adventure’ and I mean, what’s more of an adventure than adopting a pet? Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae​, @hoebii​ and @aroseforyoongi for editing various parts of this for me.

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“That cat got into Rick’s chickens again. Killed a couple chicks. He said he’s going to kill it if he sees it on his property.”

Your dad had said it nonchalantly, barely glancing over his newspaper. Without a second thought, you were out the door. There was no way to be sure, not really, but the sinking feeling in your stomach made you run a little faster down your parents’ driveway.

You could have sworn you saw that cat slinking under Rick’s fence on your walk earlier.

Rick’s property neighbored that of your parents, but you wouldn’t necessarily consider him their neighbor. If you stood on their front porch, you could just barely make out Rick’s house through the stand of trees that served as the property line. Your parents had chosen to let their piece of the world be natural, carving out just enough space for a house and a decent sized yard all those years ago. It had made for some great childhood adventures in the woods: pretending fairies were real, living out your childhood fantasies of being some sort of wizard, making friends with the trees--normal kid stuff.

Rick, on the other hand, had turned his land into farmland, even though he neither farmed nor cared for the land. The vast rolling fields of Rick’s “farm” were mostly bare. He had a pond in one corner on the other side of the property, and he had a small cabin for hunting when game season started. Mostly, though, Rick raised chickens. Annoying things, the chickens were, not unlike Rick himself. It wasn’t uncommon to hear the hens’ incessant clucking from your parents’ house, and the roosters never seemed to shut up.

When you moved to the city to attend college, you were elated to get away from the chickens.

According to your dad, the cat had showed up in the woods a few weeks ago, and it had made an enemy out of Rick almost immediately. The poor thing was skinny--too skinny, like it had been living on the streets for a while--and though its dark fur was ruddy and matted, you could tell it would be a beautiful onyx if taken care of.

As you got closer to Rick’s farm, you heard barking and a sharp yowl, and you hurried in the direction of the sounds, afraid of what you’d find. Rounding the corner of the chicken coop, you gasped in horror.

Rick stood with his back to you, shotgun in his hands. His dog, an old bird hound with caramel spotted fur, had the cat clutched in his mouth, the dog’s teeth sunk directly into the cat’s shoulder. The cat, to its credit, had puffed itself up greatly, its tail nearly double its normal size. It was growling and hissing, and, despite the pain it was almost certainly in, was swiping at the dog with its front claws.

“Call your dog off, Rick.” Your voice was steadier than you thought it would be. You were out of breath from the run over there, and being anywhere near Rick with a gun and his snarling dog made you a little uneasy.

“Fuck off.” The man barely turned his head to you. “Damn cat’s been a pain in my ass since someone dumped it here. It killed four of my chicks.”

“Look at it. Of course it’s going after your chickens. You don’t keep them in their coop. It’s starving.”

“Damn thing should stay at your soft-ass parents’ house if it wants handouts.” Rick cocked his gun, pointing it at the cat. The cat’s copper eyes flashed to Rick at the sound. It looked terrified.

The fact that it knew what a gun was and knew to be afraid of it broke your heart a little bit.

“Call off the dog,” you said again, taking a step toward him, hands splayed out in front of you placatingly. “Calm down. I’ll get the cat out of your hair, and you won’t have to worry about it again.”

“Ain’t going to replace my chickens.” Rick’s voice was gruff, but he lowered the gun.

“I’ll pay for your chickens. Just call off your dog.”

He stared at the cat, the gun clutched in his hands but no longer pointing it at anything. For a second, you thought he was going to sicc the dog on the poor thing just to spite you and make a point. You had a feeling he was the type of person to do that. But after a tense stare down, he whistled through his teeth.

“Drop it,” he commanded the dog. The dog looked to its owner, and he repeated the command. It took a second, but the dog released its bite, and the cat slumped to the ground. Rick regarded the cat with a sneer before turning to you. “Take care of that thing. If I see it on my property one more time, it won’t be so lucky.”

You nodded tensely, and he whistled again. The dog trotted over to Rick’s side and the two walked off. You stared after him for a moment. A pained yowl drew your attention back to the cat.

The cat looked angry, and you didn’t blame it. Its tail was still puffed up, and you could tell that if it hadn’t just been attacked by a dog, its hackles would be straight up. Its copper eyes glared at you, its ears flat against its head. You approached cautiously, and it growled deeply in its throat.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothed, crouching down to make yourself less threatening. “I’m going to get you help. Is that okay?”

The cat hissed at you and attempted to back away. It made two limping steps before collapsing into the mud around the coop.

“That’s alright. It’s okay.” You sighed, unsure of your next steps. You didn’t want to traumatize the cat by coming any closer, and you really didn’t want to risk injuring it further by picking it up and having it fight you.

You looked at the cat, blinking slowly when you accidentally made eye contact with it. You had read somewhere that blinking was a way to show a cat that you weren’t a threat, and though you felt kind of silly, at this point, you were willing to try anything.

“What am I going to do with you, kitty?” you questioned, sitting down in the mud. The cat looked at you curiously, as if asking what the fuck you were doing. “I don’t want Rick to hurt you,” you confessed. “I’d like to take you somewhere safe.”

Truthfully, that was part of the reason why you were even visiting your parents. Your mom had told you about the cat, and how it didn’t seem to be wearing any collar, and while you were visiting them you wanted to try to trap it, either to bring it to live with you, or to take it to a nice shelter where it could get a good meal and hopefully find a nice family.

“Can I take you to the vet, at least?” You really were desperate, talking to the cat as if it understood what you were saying. The cat, to its credit, looked at you, copper eyes staring into your face before it blinked, just once, slowly and deliberately.

When you reached out to it, it didn’t growl.

You stood and approached the cat, doing your best not to make any sudden moves. You scooped it up gently, careful not to jostle his left shoulder too much, and cradled it close to your chest.

The walk back to your parents’ house was slow, but the trip to the vet was even slower.

It was a weekend, so the vet in your parents’ sleepy little suburb was closed. You had no choice but to pack your bags back up and make the trek home to the city to take the cat to the 24/7 emergency veterinary hospital.

You tapped your hand on the steering wheel. Traffic wasn’t usually this terrible on a weekend, but there was some sort of sporting event happening, so of course, all the roads into the city were clogged.

Stopped at a red light, you spared a glance toward your passenger seat. The cat laid on his side--it was a him, your mother had confirmed--his breathing labored. You could tell he was still on edge. His tail was still puffed up like a cat-of-nine-tails, and he kept eyeing you warily. But he had let you wrap him in a blanket and carry him to your car, and he had stayed on the seat, almost like he knew it was the safest place for him.

“Almost there, kitty,” you mumbled, changing lanes, finally free of the congestion. “Hang on just a little longer.”

Thankfully, the vet wasn’t busy, and you were able to get in with the assistant almost right away. You explained everything that had happened to her as she examined the cat, tutting slightly as she checked his shoulder.

“There are some punctures, but nothing that’s too worrying. I can bandage it and give you some antibiotics.” The assistant pulled her hand back as the cat swatted at her for touching his shoulder a little too forcefully. “Do you know if he has an owner? It would be helpful to know his shot records.”

You shook your head. “He just showed up in the woods one day.”

“We’ll get him a full round of vaccines, then, too.” Copper eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw a look of concern cross them. But then he blinked, and it was gone.

The vet ordered an MRI, and thankfully, because it was a large veterinary hospital connected with the local university, they were able to do it the same day. So you ended up staying at the vet for two hours as they anesthetized the cat and did the scan. While the cat was waking up, the vet called you into the exam room.

“We checked for a microchip, and there was none,” the vet--Dr. Jung--informed you, his brow furrowed. “Based on the cat’s malnutrition and the condition of the coat, it’s likely he was a stray for at least a few months.” You nodded. The poor cat. “We should have the MRI results soon. I’ll give you a call in a few hours once I get a chance to read them. Normally, since he’s a stray, we would contact our foster network to see if anyone would be able to take him in. But since you brought him in-”

“I’ll keep him,” you said quickly. You were planning on it anyway. Just because he was hurt didn’t mean you were willing to give him up.

“Good.” Dr. Jung smiled at you. “My assistant is wrapping his shoulder now, and we’d like to just monitor him for a few more minutes to make sure he’s coming out of the anesthesia well, but you should be clear to take him home after that.” He placed a box on the table between you. “This is Clavamox. One millilitre twice a day for seven days. I don’t think he’ll develop an infection, but since he was so dirty, I think it’s probably better to be safe.” You nodded and pocketed the box. “We also gave him a rabies shot while he was here. It’s standard because he was bitten. If you notice any symptoms, please call us immediately. Once he’s feeling better, we can get him the rest of the vaccines he needs.”

You nodded. This was a lot all at once. And you didn’t even know what you wanted to call the cat yet.

Dr. Jung seemed to be able to tell you were feeling overwhelmed, because he offered you a comforting smile and patted your shoulder. “I’m going to go check on him. You can come if you want.”

As soon as you entered the room, groggy copper eyes were on you. The poor thing looked stoned out of his mind, but there was recognition there, and that gave you some comfort. At least he wasn’t glaring at you anymore. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped his shoulder, so he had a bandage from his upper left front leg wrapped all the way around his chest and up around his shoulders.

“What are we going to do with you, kitty?” you questioned softly, reaching out and gently placing your hand on his head.

After checking the cat’s vitals one last time, Dr. Jung let you leave.

He was limp in your arms as you carried him into your apartment, still a little drugged up from the anesthesia. The whole way back to your apartment, he had sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window like a drunk, moody college student.

“It’s up to you if you want to stay, kitty,” you told him, gently laying him down on your couch as soon as you kicked your shoes off. Of course you wanted to keep him. You had grown attached to him in the few hours you had been with him. But if he was miserable, you were willing to help him find somewhere that was more suited for his needs.

He tried to stand, succeeding only long enough to give a dramatic wobble before collapsing back into the overstuffed cushion. While he was completely recovered from the anesthesia, Dr. Jung had warned you that the cat might be feeling the side effects for a day or so. You reached out to pet him, but his copper eyes slanted into a glare, and you pulled back.

Assuming the cat was hungry, you left him alone and headed into the kitchen. You had some chicken in the fridge, and you thought maybe he would enjoy some fresh meat he didn’t have to steal. You weren’t sure when his last real meal was, so you wanted to go easy on his digestive system until you knew he was feeling better. You’d have to stop and get cat food at some point, but for now, chicken would do.

You did your best to trim off all the fat from the chicken breast. You knew he wouldn’t mind eating it--cats ate weirder things from fresh kills, after all--but you figured with how thin he was, lean meat would probably be better. Carefully, you cut it up into small, easy-to-chew chunks and put some on a plate, wrapping the rest and putting it into the fridge for later. You used a dropper to evenly spread the required dose of the antibiotics onto the chicken in hopes that it would make it easier to give him the medicine.

Returning to the living room, you noticed that the cat hadn’t moved aside from doing his best to curl up as small as possible in the corner of the couch. You tried not to make eye contact with him as you pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it on the cushions. You weren’t particularly keen on having raw chicken all over your furniture, but you sat the plate on the blanket anyway. There was no way you trusted the cat to be able to jump down off your couch at this point.

“Here’s some chicken, kitty.” You gestured toward the plate, and he eyed it warily, unmoving. You supposed he would feel more comfortable eating if you weren’t in the room. “Don’t leave it too long--it’ll go bad. I have to go do some work. I’ll be in my office if you need me. It’s just down the hall.”  As you stood up, you paused. You were talking to a cat. You were talking to a cat as if it could understand exactly what you were saying.

Maybe your parents were right. Maybe you had been living alone for too long.

Your mother had suggested you get a hybrid when you first moved to the city--a nice, loyal, protective one, like a German shepherd hybrid or a golden retriever--but you had never gone further than passively looking.

You were happy for the hybrids. A majority of them were still owned, but they could move about their lives freely and without question. It was illegal to treat them as servants, and all ownership had to be consensual, though you weren’t sure how well those rules were enforced. You didn’t really understand how someone could just own a hybrid--they were people, after all, even if their DNA was a little altered. It was weird to you, owning another sentient being like that.

Their lives were certainly much better than they had been. Some hybrids were naturally occurring, but others--a majority of them--had been created by rich and powerful individuals and the government in secret during some shady human experiments in the early 20th century. And, of course, because they were experiments, it created a whole host of problems regarding rights and discrimination.

But despite all the improvements, there was still a long way to go. There was nothing wrong with owning a hybrid if it was consensual, but that didn’t mean you were necessarily comfortable with it.

After a few hours of sitting at your desk working on your most recent graphic design project for work, you turned away and stretched. If you had to stare at the color chartreuse for ten more minutes, you thought you would go blind. It was time to check on the cat anyway, and you wanted to make sure you threw away any chicken that was left on the plate you had given him so he wouldn’t get sick.

When you entered the living room, you were immediately confused. The cat was gone, but so was your blanket. The plate was still on the couch, almost exactly where you left it, but it was entirely empty. Wonderful. You had taken in some sort of Houdini cat.

You grabbed the plate and put it in the sink, trying to look for your blanket as you went. You found it when you returned to the living room, the corner sticking out from under your TV stand. There was just enough space between the bottom shelf and the floor for the cat to fit under, and apparently he had taken the blanket with him. You couldn’t really blame him--it was April, and it was late evening, and your floors were still a little chilly.

“Hey kitty?” you called, bending down to see if you could see him under the shelf. You had thought about it while working, and at this point, you were just going to lean into the whole ‘talking to the cat like he’s a person’ thing. “It’s starting to get late. I’m going to go get ready for bed, okay?” You could just barely see his copper eyes hidden all the way under the TV stand. His pupils were blown wide to capture all the ambient light they could. “You can explore or whatever you’re comfortable with tonight, but please don’t ruin my stuff. Please be a good kitty.”

He blinked once and continued to stare blankly at you.

“Okay, well��� if I don’t see you, goodnight.”

You stood and headed off to your bathroom to start your nightly routine. It only took you about a half an hour, but you were soon laying down in bed with your book. You had started it a few days ago, but you were hooked, and you were already almost done with it. The author had managed to somehow insert a space alien robot into today’s modern digital age, and you found it fascinating. You would never look at social media and influencers the same way after reading this book.

It was cozy in your room with the little bedside lamp on, snuggled up in your blankets. Your bed was soft--it was one of those that you could change it using a remote to fit your mood and preference, but you almost always preferred it soft--and you had plenty of blankets and pillows to make it comfortable.

You only had a few pages left when you noticed it, the shadow lingering in the hallway, slowly getting closer to your open bedroom door. It started out against the wall across the hall. When you next looked up after glancing down to your book, the shadow had moved to your doorway. He even had turned his head away like he was pretending it was a coincidence that he had ended up in your room.

He was walking with a slight limp, which was unsurprising given the bandage and the fact that he was attacked not even 12 hours before. He was much more lucid than he was when you first brought him home, though you could tell he was still a little groggy. You didn’t say anything to him--you figured if you did, he would bolt, so you let him do what he wanted.

After a few minutes--maybe 15 or 20--you closed your book quietly, careful not to startle the cat. You glanced at the doorway and didn’t see him, so you put your book on your nightstand and turned off the light. It took you a second, but you snuggled down into the blankets, pulling them tightly around you. You were just about to drift off when you felt it.

Something landed gently on your bed by your feet. It paused for a moment before slowly making its way up the bed to your head, its gait uneven. When it got to the other pillow, it laid down. You risked opening an eye then, and were met with copper eyes staring back at you.

He watched you warily, as if waiting for you to yell or kick him off the bed. When you didn’t, his eyes narrowed, and he slowly allowed himself to lay down, his head on his paws, curled up as best as he could be.

You fell asleep to the sound of him snoring lightly.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

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[elvisabutler]

I am the anon that used your consider against you and I would LOVE a second part😭 it’s heavenly I am so obsessed. Also a tiny indulgence if you have time - could u work in a reference to not using drugs? I’m six months into recovery and I just live knowing people aren’t partiers lol🥺

first off, congrats consider anon! second, i'm glad you enjoyed and consider this the second partish. seriously it's half blurb half ramble. i did honor your indulgence even though i have the reader vape or will have the reader vape in the main story. not necessarily the same thing but figured you deserved a heads up. tw: burn and scar mentioned ( not in a sh way, but could be seen as triggering ), possessiveness, a really unhealthy kind of borderline abusive d/s relationship. the usual stuff when it comes to pa! reader and me in this 'verse. so daddy kink, age difference, d/s.

any way you want me that's how i'll be

consider you always keep a piece of whatever made you your exes' good girl. later on your therapist reminds you that the way you do it is not healthy. yes, we are all bits and pieces of the people around us but you seem to take it to the extreme.

sir and armie's pieces are simple. for sir it was being where he wanted you, where he needed you. always hey, stay home baby girl, i know you hate parties and the drugs that tend to flow at some of them. "you'll be my good girl and stay sober even if you come right?" he asks when you ask if you can come. "of course, sir, how else could we get home?" you answer like uber doesn't exist and still get left behind for the fifth night just this month. armie's is stupidity, it's forgetting to put on your cream so the welt doesn't get scar or the burn cream when the wax did just the wrong amount of damage. your therapist always makes a face at the two small scars you have from it. austin does too.

papi is- was- papi is this never ending desire to hear that you're doing good, that you're following his directions so well and that he loves you. it's wanting to not have to beg so much for the smallest crumbs of things and feel guilty. "angel, you're being needy, did i not give you enough this morning? my good girl isn't this needy. she takes what she's given and waits for papi to give her more." he says one day when your hand scratches at his head, messing up his hair after a scene. "not in public, angel." "sorry papi, i just- i just wanted to touch you." you murmur pulling your hand away the shame threatening to eat away at you. "just don't do it again." he will not let you take his angel wing collar when you break up. he still sends you pictures of it from time to time. those are the days you have a panic attack after his phone calls.

with père it's different. it's keeping lessons you learn in such a short period of time that you realize he's ether a very good teacher or you are a phenomenal student. it's relearning that asking for things is a good thing. that your dom can't know what you want if you don't ask for it, if you don't fully consent to it. it's learning you have more power than you know in the hands of the right person to fit you. it's being told that you're a good girl for drinking your water even if it's in the form of coffee. "it's water, père, just bean flavored." you grin. "never refer to coffee as such again, please, ma belle." he asks looking truly and honestly horrified. it's all that and more even if when you meet austin there's still things you haven't fully learned. it's getting phone calls and not being forced into them because you can't let go of a man who sought you out when you were a newly turned eighteen and- you fell in love. it's a lot of things and yet it's one singular thing that might be the one thing that bothers and comforts austin all at once.

it starts as everything does in austin's bed with you curled against his chest. for some reason both you and him have taken to leaving your jewelry on the in bed as it gets painful as the rings digging into thighs or chests can sometimes be. at this point you are used to be a pleasure coming from a bit of pain and well what's a little bit more added to the pile. most nights he would play with your necklace almost as if he would like to wrap his hand around your neck again. some nights he does, other nights he chooses to just let it rest after letting his initials imprint on his own thumb.

tonight is not one of those nights, tonight austin's hand- his stupidly ring size large hand is twirling your dove ring. eyeing it as if it holds the secrets to the universe.

"who gave this to you, little dove?" he whispers, pulling your hand up and placing a kiss on the ring. "it wasn't your parents, right?"

"no, daddy. my mom would never get me something as in your face like this. same with my dad before he died." you pause, taking a moment to nuzzle at austin's chest. "are you sure you want to know? it might make you mad."

"at you, dove? doubt it." he lets go of your hand to touch your face. "please?"

"père, satnin." you choose that moment to call austin by one of your nicknames for him, knowing austin wouldn't work and- daddy felt so strange to be saying after admitting you wear a piece of jewelry your last ex gave you.

"keep it, ma belle. It was a gift and I would be insulted if you gave it back." he tells you when you move to take it off as he helps you pack your luggage.

"but i'm not yours any more, père." you reply confused to the very core of your being. papi had made you take off your collar and he kept it. pere had never given you a collar, but this- this was close enough. you were supposed to give it back, right?

"that gift was for you to have something of mine to remember me when we were apart. why would that change now? are we not at least friends? do you not want to remember me if i don't call for months?" he pauses. "do you not want to remember me at all, y/n?" he asks using your actual name, a sign that he's serious about wanting to know your answer.

"i need to remember you, i think. i can keep it? you promise? you're not going to ask me to send it back?" you try and keep the desperation out of your voice, but the idea of having to send it back fills you with dread you can't describe.

"never. only send it back if you don't need me in your life somehow."

"deal."

austin can't help the inhale of breath at your admission. he doesn't- he doesn't like père. at least not yet. he treated you fine- but he still thinks you were an artistic experience for him and not someone he actually cared about in the way you deserved to be cared about. in the way him and papi cared about you.

"you said you wouldn't be mad, satnin." you murmur, kissing at his neck. "it doesn't- it's my dove ring, daddy. it's why you call me little dove."

"i'm not asking you to- i wouldn't, darling." he shushes what he feels are tears building up behind your eyes. "you're mine, right? even with his ring?"

'i only have one set of initials on me right now, austin." you answer a little shakily, a hand moving to touch the dove on your neck. "all yours, daddy. just like you're all mine, not nessa's even after everything, right?"

his hand moves to rest on top of yours, pressing your thumb against his initials on the back of the necklace. "all yours, little dove. all yours."

[khizuo]

3 Reasons Why Captain Puffy’s Hero Arc is Necessary to the Dream SMP

(I’m just saying, if her hero arc ends up not taking off because of bad writing, I’m going to be so mad—)

So! These are points I’ve all seen made on Tumblr before, but I just thought that I would synthesize them into one meta post in order to spread my Puffy propaganda. I think Captain Puffy’s hero arc is deeply necessary to the SMP from a storytelling perspective, and I just want to explore the reasons why.

1. Captain Puffy counters the current 'all is hopeless’ angle of the SMP plot.

The SMP needs someone who is unequivocally good — a paragon, of sorts. The current story that the SMP tells seems to be one of constant defeat. From characters losing their homes to giant explosions, to characters falling into mental spirals as a result of cycles of abuse and neglect, the SMP has had an overall “all hurt no comfort” tone to it recently.

Now, if the Dream SMP was a story in a book or a movie or something, I might be fine with a sad ending. But it is not. The Dream SMP is a fundamentally interactive piece of media which has a large influence over a primarily young audience. It is also not a story which started out with an intent to go all “everything is dark and hopeless”. 

Time and time again, the SMP characters have picked themselves up from hopelessness. Time and time again. But it seems that post-Doomsday has seen most characters finally give into their spirals of negativity or become resigned to a status quo of violence and destruction. This makes sense for their characters; but from a storytelling standpoint, if the story of the SMP ended with everyone ultimately losing, the characters will never find a satisfying resolution. The conflict that they faced will just end up defeating them one and for all.

Captain Puffy is standing up to show that there can be another way. That the response to destruction can be hope and healing, not necessarily more destruction. It’s a much needed fresh take in the SMP’s current story.

2. Captain Puffy shows a trajectory of positive character growth.

Captain Puffy is pretty chaotic in her own right, and she initially joined the Greater Dream SMP because she liked the chaos it promised her. But after witnessing the destruction of L’manberg on Doomsday, as well as learning of Tommy and Tubbo’s internal pain, she has changed her priorities to wanting to honor L’manberg’s memory and make the SMP a better place.

I wouldn’t call that OOC of her, because since the beginning Puffy has shown great compassion to people she runs across on the SMP. From gifting Tubbo Beeinnit, to treating Niki well on their date, to viewing Dream as her little duckling, Puffy cares. It’s just that as a newcomer to the server, she was not truly aware of the prior tragedies of the server until Doomsday. 

Captain Puffy setting aside her connection to Dream and her innate wish for chaos in order to help pick up the pieces of the SMP shows character growth, in a trajectory that is looking up. (I do wish it could have been more explicitly conveyed, but I think that’s more a lack of lore streams and inclusion in the greater story from the writers.)

This relates to my previous point, but the SMP sorely needs someone whose character develops in a way that provides hope to its audience.

3. Captain Puffy is a point of connection between several different plots.

Puffy has her hand in several Dream SMP plots at the moment, and her hero arc has the potential to tie them all together in a neat way.

She’s one of Eret’s knights. She’s Niki’s girlfriend. She’s got a loose alliance with the Badlands and knows about the egg. She’s still got that former connection to Dream, who was once her little duckling. She cares for L’manberg’s memory and the kids it fucked over.

The SMP right now feels fractured in its storytelling, and if it can coalesce around Puffy’s hero arc, it can all tie together in a really natural way.

All I’m saying is: Puffy supremacy!