I am *looking* at that lawlu fae au, yell about it, please. I'd love to hear moar xd
YESS TYSM FOR ASKING!!! sorry for the late response, busy irl time for a little, BUT! i have been thinking about lawlu a lot recently (i’m just about done with watching through dressrosa, so, well, you get it), and i always think fae rules make for a fascinating story, so…
namely, this train of thought was inspired by this tumblr post which i think. encapsulates the lawlu dynamic pretty well. i mean, it’s not like luffy is trying to be owned by someone, but good luck getting any sort of handle on that guy even if he’s yours by the letter of the law. and traffy already has a few markers of being a good fae in canon (tricky as hell, hiding his real name, refusing to eat certain foods lol), so it fits!
and it’s like. imagine. you’re a fae. you know how the world works for you. there’s unspoken rules and unspoken conventions and unspoken hatred coursing through your blood. there’s someone you want to tear down from his post, but it’s not easy, not with the faerie court dynamics involved. you’ve been planning this for a long, long time. it may make you want to scream, but at least the schemes you lay out make sense.
and then, right. and then this human wanders into your domain, and eats your food, and shrugs when you tell him this means he cannot leave. and sure, he’s here now, it’s – fine, whatever, as long as he doesn’t get underfoot, so you leave him to his own devices and look away.
except, right.
except you find out very quickly that he gets underfoot.
a lot. in every way you can imagine, and some ways you can’t possibly. you’ve been raised to see humans as – not inferior, maybe, but certainly easy enough to control – but now you’re suddenly forced to confront the fact that this human had – just – not been raised with the same rules that you have ingrained into your very existence. he says he’s free, and that makes no sense, because you technically own him, what freedom is there in belonging to someone like you, but he– he doesn’t live by your standards. he doesn’t do what you ask. he breaks every rule, and stomps past every line you draw, and makes no sense, and–
and. so.
he had just not been raised with the same rules that all of your kind have ingrained into their very existence, you realise, suddenly. you’re pretty sure that doflamingo knows all about your tricks, and schemes, and traps.
you’re pretty sure, however, that doflamingo is not expecting a punch to the face.
and so, maybe having a human on your side isn’t that bad after all.
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Hi!! This might be awkward because it's my first time requesting something but I'll try my best.
Could you write a Fem!Reader x Farah where the reader is a Belly Dancer?
Just them meeting and feeling a spark between them. I'm a dancer and it would mean the world to me.
Thanx in advance!
Hey there! I went a little wild with that one since I've been wanting to write something a bit more elaborate for a while now, hope you don't mind =)
Farah with a Belly-Dancer!Reader
The chill of the evening made you shiver, its breeze gently caressing your skin as though you were a lover long lost. And yet, your performance continued as the audience cheered for you. Four evenings you had been performing now, calming the minds and souls of the weary freedom fighters that battled demons each day, trying to gain their freedom from their cruel oppressors. In the darkness of the night, you danced, giving them a glimpse of hope, showing them what they’re fighting for: A future in which neither man nor woman, adult nor child, had to fear for their life. A future in which everyone was treated as equal with love and compassion. From the ashes of war, that future would arise, growing, nurtured by the community found in the broken homes of the people crying for help. You were there to remind the fighters that that was the life to be had once all of this was over.
A small celebration it was, with many having gone to bed, dreaming of green plains among which their children would play. But not you. You would dance the night away. For as long as you could move, for as long as you could improve someone’s night, you would continue to dance. Your graceful movements, paired with the drums of another, made for quite the spectacle. Although tired, the people cheered for you to continue, to entertain them with your entire being. Those fights riddled them with fear, engraving into their hearts emblems of terror, but you dulled the pain, if just for the duration of which you performed your heart out. The rewards weren’t applause, whistles and flowers being thrown at your feet, it was tomorrow. A tomorrow that was one day closer to being ideal. One day, the wars would be over, but until then you shall hold on.
And the chill of the evening almost made her shiver as well. Farah took notice of the gathering of people over at the building, convening in front of it as though offerings to praise the gods were being made. But there was no such thing, for a benevolent and kind deity would never allow this many of her brothers and sisters to fall. And yet, her curiosity betrayed her in that she turned to look at the blissful scene. As her people clapped along to the music, she felt intrigued. Who was it that brought joy in such dark times? Who would bring about such bright smiles? Who would make those soldiers feel at ease during times of war? It must have been someone, who had lost their mind, evidently. And yet, there was a sense of gratitude. Why wallow in misery, one day it will all have been worth it. One day, those uncertain times would finally be over and they could finally rebuild their cities from the rubble, that, which has been so unfairly been laid waste to.
And among that stage was something Farah would have never believed, had she not seen it with her own eyes. A trick of the dim light, perhaps. Maybe even a phantom, sent to entice her. She was strong, much more so than even her closest companions would believe, but what she saw on stage gave her a feeling of contentment. There was no certainty you were real, perhaps you were an illusion caused by her fears and worries, perhaps you were a foul demon that sought to get her off her path of righteousness. Either way, you were ethereal. The passion behind your movements was enough to convince her that you must have been some greater being. You brought cheer and happiness to the almost hopeless. Oh, how Farah wished she could have gone onto that stage, show her chivalrous side and protect you from all harm. But her mission would allow her to do so anyway.
And what you saw almost made you freeze in place. A woman, hardened by the battles she’s fought and won, but the kindness in her eyes was very much there. She was rough around the edges, she had been beaten down so many times, but she never ceased to fight, she never ceased to do what was right. For herself and the people she believed in. From below, she stared right back at you, her eyes sparkling brighter than the stars above. Although you had recognized her from hearsay, you never would have thought you would get to see her in person, much less have someone of such importance watch your performance. It was the incentive you needed, the energy boost given to you after a small break, that invigorated you. You were born anew under her gaze, a warm feeling overcoming you. And just like that, just because that woman watched you with such intent, you could continue to dance the night away.
But even as that youthful joy began to settle in your heart, you felt the urge to talk to that woman. She, who had no name you knew of so far, had captivated you in a way you couldn’t describe as you were. Perhaps the gods knew what it was you were feeling, but you, a mere mortal, lacked the understanding. And thus, as the masses slowly began to disperse, seeking the warmth of rest, you stepped off the stage for just a moment. There she was, her arms crossed, and yet she seemed approachable. With a gentle smile, she waved you over. In a world where most deities seem to leave humanity to fend for its own, why would a goddess of beauty, love and war come to call you, of all people? It was an enigma you had naught but an inkling of a reason. And yet, despite all the wars she’s fought in, she seemed to be so kind. Your heart was drawn to hers.
“Your performance was really nice.” Her voice, sweeter than sugar trapped in honey, enticed you. Her melodious voice beckoned you closer, and you followed suit.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you. You’re the commander, right? It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Y/N.” Almost shy in your approach, but you seemed more fierce than a lion defending his own kin. Although you held no guns, you fought for your beliefs in your own ways. How admirable.
Farah may not have been a believer of destiny, thinking that one could only carve one’s own path as the world would do whatever it took to prevent one from achieving the greatest of things, but it felt as though her and you had been intertwined. Oh, what cruelly sweet fate had brought you together? What made you meet under these circumstances? But perhaps fate had brought you together for a reason?
And for the first time that evening, the both of you could finally share in the warmth of a new companionship.
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Has Raven/Jersey ever broken a bone?
alright, *cracks knuckles*
this one goes out to sickfic princess ana and whumpwhiz rp.
*blows a kiss to the heavens bc they're angels* MWAH!
but aaaaany-knee-ways:
...it's interesting, actually.
( or at least, it is to me, darling. )
because of how he's written, you'd think probably think, 'oh, but nina! jerseykyle gets in all these fights. he's all big and tough and strong! he prolly breaks bones all the time!" and that's precisely IT, my dear!
jersey breaks bones;
he does not get his bones broken.
EVER.
and i suppose that's because he is a seasoned fighter. ergo, he knows how to throw a wicked punch, where exactly on your body it will hurt or humiliate you the most -- probably a combination of the two if he's feeling particularly pissed that day ( everyday ) -- how many times to do it, where you're vulnerable, sees everyone as a possible adversary and thus, weaponizes the moment he sees you, surveys you, sizes you up, indicates what kind of threat you are and…
Promptly Neutralizes You.
he takes all these precautions, runs all these tedious, elaborate tests and intense, premeditated processes of elimination ( literally ), not just because he does not like losing, which he doesn't...but because he literally can't. simply put: he does not know how to lose or get hit.
see, jersey does not cope with pain very well. mentally or physically. that's why he inflicts pain, because he is secretly scared of feeling it.
on the outside, he is a harsh, frightening, impenetrable, menacing thing covered in barbs and wires and armed heavily, because on the inside he is extremely fragile and should even the smallest chink in his armor form, his entire fierce façade will shatter into smithereens.
he does not like to get hurt, to feel weak, to feel unpleasant and horrible things, so he does everything in his power to be powerful so that he will never feel powerless. it's why he learned how to fight, it wasn't to hit people, it was to avoid being hit by other people. it was a defense mechanism because of how often he got bullied and how weak he constantly was from swimming out against the current of all his chronic illnesses. a lot of people would just let go of that short stick that life gave them and drown, but not kyle. not my baby. no, his life belongs to him. so he sharpened that stick into the shiv...
stuck it straight through the gut of life,
— and made god beg for HIS mercy.
but yes, it's all a perfectly placed show. because my boy, scary and frightening as he may be swinging those freckled fists of fury...
is a fucking WUSS.
who has not broken a lot of bones actually! not his anyways! because when he does lose a fight, he is a sore fucking loser indeed because he's suddenly hit with all this pain that he does not know how to endure or deal with and literally is such a baby and a princess, omg.
i /swear/ that WHOLE divorce whumpshot para and the one of him barfighting is him acting really tough and cool, but hes really like hooly shit, this sucks so fkn Bad, i hate this, i want my mOM!! :'(
riiiiiiiiiip, lmaooooo.
spoiler alert: jersey kyle is dainty and spoiled. he is a champion complainer and if gets a papercut...
you will hear about it.
trust.
conversely, however...lead singer ravenstan,
is very Quiet about pain.
ravenstan knows pain like the back of his hands, he, unfortunately, has had hands on him his entire life and where kyle learned to kick and claw and bite, stan just...internalized and endured all that pain.
he isn't brutal or vicious, he is kind and forgiving, he does not hurt things even if they are hurting him and has been hurt so much that being hurt is as easy as breathing to him…which is horrible because he has asthma and a lot of smoke-related respiratory damage.
but yeah, i actually ( god, i love you ravenstan ) want to scream because where jersey is hard outside and soft inside, raven is soft outside and hard inside and is extremely good at being hurt, ( a child weaned on pain thinks hurt is a comfort, rip ), will take pretty much anything you throw at him and because he literally does not want to inconvenience you...will not even indicate that he's hurt to you.
like he is very passionate about protecting and taking care of other people, but he does not care at all about himself or what happens to him, so if you're hurt, he is on his hands and knees, comforting you, placating you, doing whatever he can to help you...and he might have three bullets in his back, you wouldn't know until he started bleeding through his clothes and fell over. that man is a fucking TANK, guys.
the universe has tried to kill ravenstan...several tries.
( suicide tw, he has also tried a couple times </3 )
no such luck.
it helps that he actually has a surprising amount of off-hand medical knowledge because sharon transferred a lot of it onto him during stan's childhood when she was patching him up because he was a fkn disaster child who tracked mud and blood into her house 25/8, spent three days in a tree and took a hockey puck to the face.
i genuinely think that a large part of why stan was able to survive and endure a lot of the horrors he had was because sharon scolding him in spanish and teaching him stuff literally saved his fucking life.
but yeah, ravenstan is my selfless, accident prone king. he is such a mess, pilots his body so carelessly that it is legitimately frightening. he is constantly covered in bruises he doesn't remember getting, scratches he didn't even notice, does dumb shit and gets hurt and like literally can’t tell he's hurt until he is like abt to pass out.
tldr: rave gets hurt often and has broken a lot of bones.
usually because he's doing stupid, heroic shit.
for example, i am not sure how it got broken, i like to think it was at a concert or an event and he SAVED SOMEONE from something falling or what have you and broke the fuck out of his arm. so his arm was in a cast ( i need it to be hot pink ) and he was super bummed out and felt hella bad because he had a meet and greet and couldn't sign autographs so he just let everyone else...
give him Their autograph instead.
so no one got a personally signed picture of raven of crimson dawn, but much cooler, imo, was that they all personally signed his cast.
my eyes are leaking, lmao. branch in my eyeeee. ;-;
gods...sweet...sweet angel. uGh.
THIS IS SO LONG, BUT I HOPE THIS ANSWERS YOUR QUESTION! idk why i got so invested in this, omg, but thank you for asking and being curious and thank you all for being so lovely and asking me things. it means a lot to me that you care and know i adore you.
-uncle nina, jerseykyle inflictor of angst pain
( and major wuss ) >.>
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