#and since i have absolutely no self-control to speak of... here we are
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I'm not really sure how to introduce this one. It's a continuation of the Zevlor story that's quickly becoming a novel. But I'm posting it for you guys because it's kind of a snippet. It's after we find our man in the illithid colony, and he finds out what happened while he was enthralled. A brief warning. There is some angst, emotional pain, a little self-harm, and major feelings here. No smut in this one. It's also a pretty long scene. I did cry while writing it. I'm not sorry.
Tav is based on my current, who is a noble high elf silver dragon disciple. Highfalutin, I know, but that's what was in my head.
You approach Gale with a bit of trepidation. You're not sure if he'll agree, or even if your idea will work, but you have to try. Zevlor needs his people on his side. Or, at least, for them to understand what actually happened in those dark lands, when he was taken by the Absolute. But you couldn't be the one to do it.
As you move to stand near the wizard, sitting cross-legged on a mat and reading some dusty book you'd found in the house of healing, he looks up and smiles. "Greetings, Tav." Seeing the expression on your face, he rises with a look of concern. "My, you seem agitated. How can I help?"
You bite your lip and take a breath, then speak, your voice tight and apologetic. "I need a favor. If it's not... if you can manage it."
He nods, taking your hand and pressing it. He can be so sweet sometimes. "If it is in my power, I shall do my utmost. What do you need?"
You nod and squeeze his hand, grateful for his friendly devotion. "How are you with... mental domination?"
His eyes widen a little, but he smiles. "I can cast the spell. Depending on the intended victim, I suppose I could maintain it almost indefinitely, as long as there are no other distractions. The power and duration really depend upon my concentration and the target's resistance. But so can you. Why? Who are we dominating today?"
You worry your lower lip with your teeth again and shake your head before continuing. "It cannot be me. They all know... look, Gale. We both know how powerful the elder brain is... with an unprepared mind, it would be almost impossible to resist its influence. Is that right?"
He nods slowly. "Yes, of course, but... oh, I see." He catches on quickly, you reflect, as he works out for himself what you want. "Let me see if I can guess your thought process. I assume this is in reference to your Hellrider and how his people have been treating him since... all that. You want to show them that what happened was not his fault, and you think a little demonstration of that kind of power would be a good way to do that. You can not perform this feat yourself because of your known association with him, so you want me to make a tiefling stand on one foot or something to demonstrate how easy it is to lose oneself in the face of strong magic." He ruminates for a moment, looking thoughtful, then shrugs and smiles. "I don't see that it could hurt to try. Courtesy dictates that I must warn the person I am to control, but even then, I should be able to hold them to my will for some time. May I involve another of our group?"
You nod. "If you think it will help. I can't really keep secrets from any of you anyway. Who are you planning to bring?"
He squeezes your hand and nods decisively before releasing you. "I had a thought to take Karlach with me. She's a tiefling, and she well knows how it is to be compelled to do things she doesn't want. I will go immediately. I saw a group of refugees in the inn recently. I imagine they haven't gone anywhere. I shall do my best to make them understand. Who is the intended target?"
You watch Gale as he nearly bounces on his toes, seeming eager, as always, to demonstrate his skill. "Whoever is the strongest. But... well, don't hurt anyone or humiliate them too much. Just... never mind, you know what to do. It is in your capable hands."
Gale grins and bows. "My lady, I live to serve. Rest a while. You've been burning the candle at both ends lately, and you're a bit overwrought. Stay near. I'll come find you when I'm finished."
You watch him as he heads off to find Karlach and the other tieflings. You are overwrought, nervous, your concern over Zevlor and the refugees, the remaining Chosen, and the Elder Brain mingling and draining your mental faculties. You wander back to your own tent, sitting on a cushion just outside the flap and trying to meditate for a little while to clear your head.
After what seems like ages, but is probably closer to half an hour, you sense Gale and Karlach returning, open your eyes, and struggle to your feet, trying to read their expressions. As they draw near, you can see that they are both smiling. Gale with an expression of satisfaction and Karlach a cheeky grin, bouncing a little as she approaches. She looks around when she arrives, before speaking at half her normal volume. "It worked! You're a genius, Tav. Cal volunteered. He hopped on one foot and everything! Gale was even going to make him slap Lia, but I stopped him, so he grabbed Dammon with the spell too and made them dance together! There was nothing they could do about it." She slaps Gale on the back, and the wizard wheezes, but looks pleased nonetheless.
"Yes indeed," he continues with a smug expression. "Rolan has the strongest mind, but I do not think he would have taken my meddling with it lightly. So I thought maybe, if I dominated two of them at once, when they were prepared for it... and I made it quite clear that my powers do not nearly match those of the brain. I think it's had the desired effect. I believe Tilses went to look for him. She has been on his side the whole time anyway, and the others seem prepared both to apologize and forgive."
You blow out a breath and sag with relief. It was a long shot, and could have gone quite badly, especially with Rolan being so protective of his siblings... But hearing that your plan had worked was a welcome bright spot in an otherwise trying day. You pull them both into a hug, Gale grunting with wounded dignity and with the pressure of the grinning tiefling’s muscles crushing you both, thank them profusely, and then head off to look for Zevlor. Maybe this news would help with the deep depression he'd been struggling with since you rescued him.
The soft call of the scale you'd planted on him leads you toward Rethwin Town. As you approach the mason's guild, you see that Cerys, as well as Tilses, are standing near the doors, heads together in a fervent whispered discussion. You are opening your mouth to greet them when you're startled by a crash from inside, and the crunch and rattle of splintered wood. Cerys notices you first, and waits for you to arrive with a concerned expression. They're both looking at you nervously as another burst of noise echoes from beyond the half open doors, causing them both to flinch as you hurry over.
Noting your concern, Tilses raises her hands, palms facing you. "He's not in any trouble. At least, not from fiends or undead. His only enemy is... well, himself."
Your eyes widen. "Zevlor is making those noises?"
She nods, voice low, "yeah, the Commander is in a state at the moment. We came looking for him and heard the crashes... we thought he was being attacked. But... He's alone in there. At first he was shouting about being weak and unworthy, but then... well, he just started tearing the place apart."
You turn to go into the building, but Cerys catches your arm. "You might not want to go in there, Tav. He's unhinged. I've never seen him in this mood before. He might be... dangerous."
You smile reassuringly and pat her hand. "He won't hurt me." Though, with the sounds coming from beyond the doors, you're not quite so sure as you pretend. "Go back to the inn. Please. If... if anything goes wrong... I can defend myself, but I don't want you in the crossfire. Just in case."
They exchange a long look, but then nod. "Very well," Tilses says quietly. "If anyone can help him, it's you. We know him, but he may be embarrassed... I know he thinks very highly of you." She grips your arm, a plea in her eyes, and then she and the other woman move off, looking over their shoulders once or twice. You wait until they are out of sight, and then take a deep breath and turn toward the doors.
It is dim and dusty in the building, golden motes drifting through the newly revealed sunbeams that are filtering through holes in the battered roof. There is a flurry of movement in the back room, and you pass through the second set of doors just as Zevlor seizes a thick, rotten log from a cradle by the ruined fireplace and rips it in half with his bare hands. He casts the pieces aside and paces the width of the room, his hands shoved into his hair. There is blood on his face and hands, spattered on his dully gleaming armor, and a wreck of shattered crates and tools is scattered about. Your heart aches for him, but you hold your tongue for a moment as you sidle through the door and stand next to it, leaning your back against the wall.
He doesn't notice you at first, so great is his distress, and in the relative quiet, you can hear him whimpering to himself, his voice hovering on the raw edge of sanity. "I tried. I'm so sorry. I wasn't strong enough. They're dead. They hate me. They're right to hate me. It's all my fault. If I had only been stronger..." He grabs another crate and sends it hurtling into the stone wall, where it explodes in a shower of splinters and small nails. You turn your head, but don't move, feeling a few shards pepper the side of your face. He turns back to pace in the other direction, stumbling and nearly falling over as he finally catches sight of you. He freezes and his eyes go wide, orange rings in deep black, shining in the gloom. His mouth wags for a moment, but then firms as he turns his face away.
His words are a low, pained growl when he finally speaks. "You shouldn't be here." His hands flex, and you see that some of his claws are broken, his fingertips bloody. "I couldn't bear it if I... I killed them. Leave, before I..."
You stand away from the wall, approaching him slowly, staying well out of his reach, but preparing a shield just in case. "We both know that's not true," you say quietly, your own hands wringing at your robes. "You weren't in control of..."
He cuts you off with a roar, swinging his fist until it meets a supporting beam with a loud crack of splintered wood. The edifice sways, and dust and bits of ancient birds nests filter down from above. He's not a big man, but in this extremis he's terrifyingly strong, and you hope he doesn't manage to bring the whole roof down on your heads. "But I am responsible! I led them, it was me that... I..." He winces, looking at his hand in confusion, and you see the flash of white bone peeking through his scraped, ruby skin. Dark blood drips onto the floor from his torn flesh, drops scattering among the dust and ashes. "I wasn't good enough for them. I'm not strong enough, couldn't resist her. They're dead because of me. You don't want to associate... I've failed everyone. You deserve someone who..."
He stands there trembling for a moment before looking up and quickly striding toward you, raising his wounded hand to shove you back against the wall, your head hitting the stone so hard you see brief stars drift across your vision. He's on you in an instant, mouth crushing yours, bloody fingers pulling at your clothes. You feel all of his rage and shame and desperation as he kisses you frantically, his teeth cutting into your lips. You let him tear at you, neither returning his violent kiss nor trying to push him away. You're slightly dazed when he suddenly gasps and rips himself away from you. He pants, eyes blazing... "Gods I... I'm... you see? Im no good to anyone. I could have..." He reaches out as if to touch the drop of blood oozing from your bruised lips, a horrified expression on his face, but the lowers his eyes and drops to his knees before you. He covers his face with his hands and keens. "You don't want to be near me. Nobody wants to be near me. I see their faces when... you should leave me. I could never... never be good enough for... I'm not the man you..." he stops, shaking silently in the dust, ragged breaths filtering through his hands.
You stand still for a moment, stunned, but then slowly let yourself sink to the floor, sliding your back down the wall until you’re sitting before him. You keep your tone gentle, "I am perfectly capable of judging for myself what kind of man you are. Here." You reach out and, ever so gently, ease his hands from his face, being careful not to put pressure on the broken one. He resists at first, but then relents. You inspect his bloody hand, lamenting to yourself that you cannot heal him, but you let coolness flow from your fingers, hoping to soothe him and ease the pain into numbness. "Hold still," you say as you release his fingers and reach beneath the hem of your robe to tear a strip from your linen under tunic. He flinches at the ripping sound, but keeps his hand stretched out before him, breathing harshly. You carefully wrap the linen around his hand, sinking a deeper cold into his inflamed flesh as you delicately press on the exposed little bone, easing it back into place and pinching the skin together before wrapping his palm firmly and tucking the end of the makeshift bandage under itself. You cradle the wounded appendage and reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek lightly. His eyes are wide, sparkling with unshed tears, his mouth working in shock, lip trembling. You lean forward a little to hold his eyes, keeping your voice soft, soothing, "you do not have to carry the world on your shoulders, my love. Let me take some of the weight. Come here."
A silent tear tracks down his ravaged cheek, but he allows you to draw him toward you, laying his bandaged hand on your lap and shifting him so he's sitting before you before pressing his face into your shoulder, lifting your chin to avoid his horns. He curls his tail around himself and hesitantly wraps his good arm around your back, and you hold the armored tiefling close as his lean frame hitches and trembes with silent, heart-wrenching sobs.
The fading beams have crawled a long way up the wall before a low voice nudges you out of your doze. "My. Aren't you two a mess." Zevlor is cradled in your arms, having fallen into a deep sleep after crying himself out. Shadowheart crouches next to you, her expression unusually soft, and looks you over. You know you must look shocking, with your lips bruised and cut, and little streaks of dried blood on your face, your eyes puffy from weeping with heartache over Zevlor's pain. She reaches out and brushes a lock of hair out of your eyes, dropping her voice to a quiet whisper. "We saw the other two return, but it took a while to get it out of them. We waited as long as we dared, and then I came because, well, I'm the most subtle." She smiles. "Good thing too. You look like you both could use a little attention." You nod and shift slightly, letting her see Zevlor's hand, wrapped in the bloody bandage on your lap. He tenses a little, tightening his grip on you and murmuring into your robe, but doesn't wake, such is his exhaustion. Shadowheart reaches out, very lightly touching her fingers to his, and whispers the spell. His breath hitches and he shudders as the tingling power filters through him, but then sighs, seeming to feel the relief even in his sleep. She heals you next, the sensation making your skin prickle with gooseflesh, but you feel the small cuts close and the bruises fade.
"Thank you," you mouth silently, and she nods, leaning back on her heels.
"We will leave you alone as long as you wish. We just wanted to know you were safe." Her expression becomes thoughtful. "You love him." Her own nod follows yours, and she reaches out to brush one knuckle down your cheek before standing. "I'm happy for you. Truly. I will tell the others you are both alright. Take as long as you need. You deserve to be happy." Her smile is almost sweet as she turns away and silently exits the room.
The last light is fading when Zevlor stirs against you. Slowly he turns, easing himself around in your grasp until his eyes, just a flicker of fire in the darkness now, gaze up at you. His voice is a husky whisper, "did you mean it? What you said, before. You called me... or, maybe I was dreaming." He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, a soft, happy sound. "If so, it was a wonderful dream."
You look down at him with a soft smile and bend your head to place a light kiss on his full lips. "I did. And you are. Ai armiel telere maenen hir, Zevlor, and I can only hope you feel the same." He sits up, keeping his arm about you and chuckling softly, looking at you with undisguised adoration.
"I don't know what that means, but I think I can guess. I can see it now, in your eyes." He cups your cheek with a gentle hand. "Are you certain this is what you want? Me? Because, I know... my heart is yours for as long as I draw breath. I love you. So very much." You nod yes, and he slowly leans toward you, taking a deep trembling breath before pressing his lips softly to yours.
Zevlor kisses you chastely for a little while, his lips and hands full of tenderness, before placing a kiss on your forehead, and then resting his own against yours. "Very well, my lady. Together, then." His words are a feather brush against your lips. "But you need me at my best if we are to prevail in this... I will seek the Oathbreaker Knight."
#zevlor#bg3 zevlor#zevlor bg3#angst#hurt/comfort#self harm#feelings#fanfic#baldur's gate 3#Zevlor nation
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AKA: angst, miscommunication and a/b/o, feat. brief/mentioned maxierre with piarles endgame (+ implied maxiel.) happy birthday @boxboxbrioche my love
"Hello, Charles," Max smiles when Charles runs into him (literally) in the Budapest paddock on Thursday. He's wearing the same Red Bull team shirt and jeans as ever, naturally, but something about him looks unusually relaxed and content. Sated, even.
Probably because he's been winning practically every race this season, Charles thinks. That's enough reason for anyone to be looking relaxed and content.
Still, when he steps in a little closer to fist-bump Max's proffered hand, he can't help but notice it. Max's scent is... more than just content. He smells like he's only just come out of heat, and whoever was taking care of him did a very good job of it. He doesn't smell like sex, precisely, but he smells like what Charles would imagine afterglow would, if it had a scent. Golden and lazy and sated.
Oh, he's got blockers on, of course, but Charles has always been blessed (or cursed, depending how you look at it) with a very good nose. So. He knows immediately.
Some too-perceptive instinct is telling him that the timing of this heat has something to do with Daniel's return to racing this weekend. Almost like Max... wanted to get his heat over with before he saw Daniel again?
...That's a big stretch, of course, and Charles would never dare say it out loud. (Except to Pierre, maybe, because Pierre loves theorising about the latest paddock gossip just as much as Charles does.)
So he just smiles politely at Max, and says "Hello" back, and wishes for Pierre to appear out of some corner of the paddock somewhere. It isn't that Charles hates Max, or whatever the media likes to spin, but it's also true that Max isn't Charles' most favourite person in the paddock. (Obviously, that honour goes to Pierre.)
No, Charles' and Max's relationship is simply that of colleagues - good enough, if a little bland.
Which is why Charles is not expecting it at all when Max leans a little closer with something that looks almost like a conspiratorial grin. Charles has no idea what Max might want to be conspiratorial about with him - it's not as though he's leaving Ferrari anytime soon, despite what everyone likes to speculate.
Surprisingly, what Max says to him is not racing or incident-related at all. "Do you know where Pierre is?" he asks, as though Charles is the most reliable source of the Alpine driver's whereabouts. (Charles shouldn't be, but he's very flattered.) "I still need to thank him."
"Thank him?" Charles echoes, a little puzzled. "For what?"
And then Max says the one thing that blows apart Charles' world and turns his day upside-down immediately. "For agreeing to spend my heat with me so last-minute."
He says it so casually, too, and Charles...
Well. Charles knows that many of the other unbonded omegas on the grid like to spend their heats with other drivers. This might seem contradictory at first, but the thing is - while they might not necessarily trust each other on track, you can always rely on the fact that another driver, at least, won't reveal details of that hook-up to the press anymore than you will. Most of the alpha drivers on the current grid are decent enough people off-track that you can trust you'd be taken good care of, too.
It's something that Charles has done himself, too, once or twice - mostly with Alex, who is always incredibly kind about it, and makes sure Charles is comfortable and well-hydrated afterwards.
But mostly, Charles spends his heats alone. He schedules them carefully so they won't interfere with races, and then he bears them on his own, teeth gritted as he works himself open over and over again and clings to whatever article of Pierre's clothing he can find nearby.
It's never good enough, never, but Charles has never really wanted another alpha. He only goes to Alex if his body genuinely cannot go without it anymore, and then it's purely a case of friend helping out a friend.
So, really, Charles has no reason to be this shocked that Max apparently spent his most recent heat with Pierre. The two of them are friends, aren't they? Much better than Charles and Max have ever pretended to be. There's no reason why they wouldn't spend a heat together, really.
Except...
Charles grits his teeth, and it's only years of media training that enables him to still pass it off as a smile. "He did?" he asks, tightly.
Max laughs, still happily unaware that he's taken Charles' day and shattered it like a glass breaking into unrecognisable shards. "Yes," he confirms, and then he bumps Charles' shoulder, almost unbearably conspiratorial again. "You, of course, would know why I now need to thank him."
No amount of media training in the world could have helped Charles keep up his smile in response to that. Max notices - how could he not - and his own smile falls. "You two have not...?" His voice rises up in the end, like he almost can't believe he even has to ask the question.
Charles tastes something sour in his mouth, and by the way Max flinches back, he's sure it must be all over his scent as well, blockers be damned. "No," is all Charles says, brusquely.
Max opens and closes his mouth for a moment, and then he reaches for Charles' shoulder. He hesitates, though, hand hovering awkwardly in the space between them. "I'm sorry," he says, and it sounds sincere. "For assuming. The two of you are so..." He makes a face. "You are good friends, so I thought if he would do it for me, he would of course do it for you too."
"No," Charles says again, and the word tastes acrid in his mouth. "We have never."
Not for lack of trying, Charles thinks bitterly, and then he forces himself to think of something else. Some excuse that Max will accept.
Fortunately, a little gaggle of people in bright Ferrari red are passing by, and Charles latches onto them with almost too much relief. "Ah, my team," he says, pointing. "I need to go."
It's stupidly obvious, as excuses go, but Max has the grace not to mention it. He just watches Charles go, biting his lip.
Charles wants to hate him. He wants to hate him more than anything else - for having a race-winning car, and a team that supports him properly, and championships, but more importantly than any of that, Charles wants to hate him for having Pierre.
It's not that Charles thinks Max is actually in love with Pierre, or even that they're courting. No, it was clearly just a case of friend-helping-out-friend. But even that is...
Unbearable. It is unbearable, because Charles hasn't had even that much.
Charles had only asked once, and only because he'd been stupid with pre-heat already and not thinking straight. Pierre's long, long silence before he'd said, very gently, "Charles... I don't think that's a good idea" had told him all he'd needed to know, anyway.
After that heat, though, Pierre had called Charles and made sure he was okay, and that he knew it wasn't personal, Pierre just didn't think it was a good idea to get that involved with another driver. Especially one who's also a friend.
Charles had accepted it at the time, and he's never had any reason to think that Pierre has changed his mind in any way.
Except now here Pierre is, apparently spending heats with Max fucking Verstappen, of all people. And, really. Out of everyone on the grid - every goddamn omega - it had to be Max, didn't it?
A part of Charles wants to fall to the floor in devastation, wants to tear at his hair and shake and cry to anyone who will listen, why doesn't he want me, why doesn't he want me?
But Charles remains standing, because even more than he's heartbroken, he's furious.
Pierre did not help Max through his heat because they're in love, or because they're courting. So, he must have done it as a favour to a friend.
Then why the hell would he not do the same for Charles?
Charles also asked him as a favour to a friend (and yes, maybe Charles wanted more, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask for that. He'd just asked for a favour, the way every unbonded omega on the goddamned grid asks their alpha friends for favours every once in a while.)
Pierre had said no, and that he doesn't do that. But he'd forgotten to mention the part where he apparently does do that.
If he were here, Charles might slap him clean through the face. It's not an urge he's often had when it comes to Pierre (or ever, really) but today...
Today. It's just. What the hell does Max have that he doesn't? Max and Pierre are friends? Charles and Pierre are better friends. Max is an omega? So is Charles, and he's better at that, too.
It's obviously not even about looks! Because Charles doesn't want to be rude, but he is definitely better-looking than Max. It's just a fact, as true as "the grass is green" or "Charles is Monégasque" or "Charles is in love with Pierre."
No. Fuck that. None of this makes sense.
If Pierre is willing to spend a heat with Max, then there's no reason why he can't help Charles through one, too. It's not like Charles is asking Pierre to love him back - no, he's long since made his peace with the fact that that, at least, is impossible.
Charles has always wanted too much, though, and if he sees even the faintest chance of getting what he wants, even if it is just in the form of a favour to a friend -- well. He will never not go for the gap.
So Charles waits, increasingly impatient, for his media and team obligations to be done for the day. As soon as they are, he heads for Alpine, because there is no way Pierre will have left already - he is far too dedicated to them, staying behind extra hours to learn as many names as he can and give as much feedback as possible and help with everything that needs helping.
Right, because isn't Pierre just so incredibly helpful. Normally, this would make Charles smile, fond - but today, it makes him want to snarl.
Helpful, yes. Except to him, apparently.
No. Charles will not accept that.
Various team members glance up when Charles storms into the Alpine hospitality, freezing with coffees half-way to their lips and tracking him like the spectators to a tennis match as he storms across their building and towards the driver's rooms. One particularly brave soul ventures an "Er..." but Charles is already across the room before he's even finished saying it.
Charles knows the way to Pierre's driver's room as easily as he knows the way to his own (incidentally, it's on the same side of the building) and it's mere seconds later that he's bursting through the door of Pierre's driver's room.
Pierre freezes when the door slams open, mouth caught in a comically surprised expression, but it relaxes quickly into a fond (if still somewhat surprised) smile. "Charlito!" he says, standing up and reaching a hand in Charles' general direction. "This is a nice surprise."
But Charles is not in any mood for pleasantries. "Did you spend a heat with Max," he asks, but it's not really a question as much as it is an accusation, pointed and sharp.
Pierre freezes again, the smile slowly dropping off his face. His scent goes bitter with unpleasant surprise. "I -"
"If you lie to me, I am going to slap you," Charles says, injecting the words with just enough of a snarl that Pierre will know he's not messing around.
Pierre's expression goes from shocked to hurt to angry almost faster than Charles can process. "I wasn't going to lie to you, Charlo. I would never. Not with you."
He sounds sincere enough about it that Charles almost feels guilty, but then Pierre adds, "He's just a friend who needed a favour" and Charles is right back to furious.
"I was a friend, and I needed a favour," Charles says bitingly. He doesn't have to say anything more, because he knows Pierre will understand exactly what he means.
Pierre's face shutters, closing off completely. Even his scent goes blank, like Pierre is deliberately shutting off every part of himself. "That's different."
"How?" Charles hisses at him, and Pierre obviously wasn't expecting the vehemence of it, because he stumbles a step back. "How the hell is it different, huh?"
Pierre's expression does something complicated, and he makes a rough noise, low in the back of his throat. "It just is," he says, and refuses to elaborate.
Charles is livid. "It just is?!" he explodes. "Tell me how it just is, Pierrot, because I sure as fuck don't get it. I am your friend - non, I am your best friend - but when I ask for this favour, you say no. Then when it is Max, you say yes?"
"It's different," Pierre says again, sharply, as though sharpness alone will make Charles drop the subject.
He really doesn't know Charles if he thinks that will work. "It is not different. Not at all. What, unless you are trying to say that you don't want me?"
"Of course I-" Pierre starts, then cuts himself off with a groan, dragging a hand down his face. "I don't want to do this with you, Charles."
"Well, I want to do this with you," Charles retorts, unfazed and as fuming as ever. "What is it, huh, Pierre? You prefer Max over me?"
"Of course not," Pierre says, and he has the audacity to sound almost offended.
"But you must, if you fucked him and not me," Charles snaps. He's not entirely sure what he's trying to accomplish here, but he knows - he knows that he's furious, and Pierre is being a fucking asshole, and he needs Pierre to admit that much. At least.
Pierre, however, seems determined to continue being a stubborn asshole. "It wasn't like that," he insists, and Charles sees red.
"It's exactly like that! I asked you to fuck me, to help me through my heat, and you said no because you do not want me."
And that, somehow, is the last straw.
"Shut up, Charles," Pierre growls - actually growls - at him. "Just, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I don't?" Charles snaps right back, goading. "Why don't you tell me, then?"
Pierre snarls again, guttural and furious, and Charles knows that he should be terrified. But right now, he's far too furious to care.
"Tell me," Charles goads again, because he knows that nothing will ever compel Pierre as much as a challenge will.
Pierre is breathing hard, his fists clenched, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. "You think you know what happened with Max, huh?" he asks, and Charles has never heard him sound like that. Despite himself, it sends a thrill through Charles' whole body. "You think you know what I want and don't want?"
Charles lets his belligerent silence do the talking for him, and Pierre's eyes flash. "Well, do you know that none of it is true? Do you know that none of the rumours of me with all those omegas are true?"
"What do you--" Charles begins, but Pierre cuts him off with a single hand held up, raised as sharply as a slap.
"Do you know, Charlito," he says, almost viciously, "that I've never been able to date any other omega for longer than a few months because I was always comparing them to you?"
Charles jolts where he stands, all the breath wrenched from him. "What--"
But Pierre doesn't give him a moment to process that. "Do you know that I only agreed to spend this heat with Max because he was desperate and out of options?"
"Do you know," Pierre continues, dangerously soft, "that I had to think of you just to be able to come at all?" He stalks a single step closer to Charles. "Do you know that I had to pretend it was you all the time just so that my knot wouldn't go down?" Another step, and Charles is shaking all over, but he can't move. Pierre has him pinned down, completely rooted to the spot with his scorching gaze and world-ending words.
"Do you know," Pierre concludes, softest of all, "why I really said I wouldn't spend a heat with you?"
Charles isn't sure how he even manages to form the word. "Why?"
Pierre's eyes are so, so dark as he stops just in front of Charles, raising one hand to ghost just millimetres above Charles' collarbone. "Because," he says, and his voice is rough. "I knew that if I did, Charles, if I fucked you even just once, I wouldn't be able to hold back. I would bite you, then and there, and I would make you mine."
All the while that he's been speaking, Pierre has been tracing his fingers upwards, a slow, slow torturous slide mere centimetres above Charles' skin. Charles can almost feel the heat of his touch, almost but not quite, and when Pierre stops just below Charles' mating gland - Charles whines and shudders forward, the combination of Pierre's hand there and that word mine too much for him to resist.
Pierre's fingers touch the overheated skin of Charles' mating gland, and the world explodes.
Charles' knees buckle, and his head spins, and he has to press his thighs together in a desperate effort to ease the sudden and burning need there. He's wet, he can feel it, leaking slick all over the place just from that one touch.
Pierre jerks his hand back, of course, but even that split-second of contact was enough to destroy Charles perfectly.
Pierre is panting, and he looks about as wrecked as Charles feels. "So do not stand there and tell me that I don't want you, Charles," he says, and his voice shakes - anger or desperation, Charles can't tell. "Not when I have done nothing but want you for as long as I have known how to want."
Charles shudders, the full weight of Pierre's words sinking in on him all at once. As Charles stands there, processing, he watches as the world rearranges itself entirely.
Charles breathes in, and then he breathes out. "Fuck you, Pear," he says, only a little shakily. "No, seriously, fuck you. How obvious do you need me to be? I literally asked you to spend my heat with me!"
For a moment, Pierre looks so indignant that he forgets to be angry. "You asked it as a favour to a friend!" he protests. "I just said, I can't do that! Not if it's you."
"Yeah, well," Charles says waspishly, "I only asked it like that because I thought you would say no otherwise."
And all at once, Pierre's expression transforms as he comes to the same sudden and brilliant realisation Charles just had.
"Charles," he says, shell-shocked. "If you're saying what I think you're saying..."
He glances down at his hands, clenches them tightly into fists again, then looks back up at Charles, his gaze burning. "You have to know, you can't take it back. I'm not going to let you take it back. Not if you mean it."
"God, Pierre, you are so fucking stupid," Charles says, and alright, maybe he is still a little angry about the whole situation, after all. (He thinks he has the right to be, though.) "Why do you think I was so angry that you went for Max?"
When Pierre doesn't say anything immediately, Charles snaps off a sharp step into Pierre's space, flicking his fingers against Pierre's forehead. "Yeah, it's because I wanted you to choose me. Only me."
Pierre's hand comes up, grabbing Charles' wrist in a bruise-tight hold. He draws Charles' hand away from his face, but then he doesn't let go, just keeps holding on, fingers circling Charles' wrist like they're meant to fit there. "Only you?" he echoes, and it sounds like a question.
Charles nods, because there was never any other answer, and he's about to say it, too, but then Pierre kisses the words right off his mouth.
If Charles' world hadn't already exploded so thoroughly earlier, then it would now.
It's a good kiss. No, it's better than a good kiss - it's a fucking incredible kiss; Pierre's one hand still wrapped around Charles' wrist while the other finds its way to his waist, like it belongs there. Pierre kisses him like he's still a little angry, but also like he's never meant anything more, pouring every part of his soul into it. Pierre kisses him like he's already imagining the night they're going to spend together after this, and he kisses Charles like how he's planning to fuck him later.
Charles has no objections to that. None at all.
Well. Except the one.
He pulls away from the kiss, pressing his palm hard to the side of Pierre's face. "You're going to spend my next heat with me," he says, orders more like, and it's far too possessive, but he can't bring himself to care. Not one goddamned bit.
Pierre growls, low in his throat, and pulls Charles even closer to him. "No, chéri," he says, too-softly. "I'm going to spend every single heat with you from now on. Forever."
"Forever," Charles breathes, and then he kisses Pierre again, hard, making it a promise. "Forever."
#posted this at 01:16 which is not QUITE 1016 but as close as i could get on this fine evening#HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRIONYYYY#myfic#piarles fic#10 x 16#maxierre#(technically)#(they're really only there as a plot device to get us to piarles endgame)#in other news WHOA MY GOD THIS GOT LONG#(who's surprised....)#but i SWEAR the intention was just to write you something short and sweet for your birthday today since#since we'll only be releasing the main fic later#(well; i say short and sweet; but i don't think SWEETNESS was ever the intention. i wanted to write possessiveness)#(and also miscommunication and misunderstanding and all them GLORIOUS angsty tropes)#and since i have absolutely no self-control to speak of... here we are#BRIONY. my love. i love you so much#please accept this humble offering of my first ever publicly posted a/b/o on the occasion of your birthday#sorry for making the boys angry at each other but i unfortunately think it's very hot to make them scream confessions at each other#hot angry confessions... CHEF'S KISS#and i really hope you like this too!! and go as insane as i did over certain lines#because by God... i fear that you have created a monster#now that i have discovered a/b/o i am NEVER LOOKING BACK#this was so fucking fun to write oh my god. JEEZ#but anyways!! getting distracted here#HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN MY LOVE#and before you say this is too much.... NO. we can never celebrate your birthday too much#this is just more proof to that end#LOVE YOU ENDLESSLY ❤️❤️❤️#briony's birthday bonanza 😘
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It's been awhile, Geralt x Jaskier enthusiasts, but here is your newest installment of...
Otherwise known as...
Things that sound like Geraskier fic writers made them up, but that are, in fact, book canon.
This time with commentary on the original Polish wording from @cherrypoison1889! Thanks, Cherry!
Today we're talking about dopplers, otherwise known as shape shifters, also called vexlings in the world of The Witcher. Dopplers are often used to expose the fact that Dandelion is a vulnerability for Geralt, that he loves him.
There are quite a few Geraskier fics that play with this trope. (I will give you a rec or two at the end of the post.)
It makes sense! Plus, the show used a doppler, (more on that later) so the concept is right there!
But does the concept of using a doppler to reveal Geralt's true feelings for Jaskier just exist in the fevered imagination of Geraskier fic writers?? Is this pure fanon? Or canon?
Well, you may have guessed (since I didn't write all this out for my health!)...
It is canon.
In The Witcher book, Sword of Destiny, we meet a doppler called Dudu, who turns into Dandelion (Jaskier) to protect himself from Geralt. He even has a few choice words to say about what he sees in Geralt's thoughts.
Want the details? Of course you do, you've read this far, why not?
When Geralt meets Dudu in this story, the doppler is in the form of a halfling called Dainty Biberveldt. Dudu has bonked Dainty on the head, stolen his shit, taken his form, and is running around Novigrad making business deals with his ill gotten gains.
Dainty wants his shit back from the doppler, but does not want to turn Dudu over to the city guards because Dainty is a decent person who knows that they will murder the doppler in an absolutely horrific way that I will not describe to you. Novigrad is rife with violent bigotry towards non humans, and dopplers in particular have been slaughtered to near extinction. They've been subject to genocide, basically, just because they creep people out. (I could write a thesis just on the way this short story handles themes of racism)
But anywho. That's how we get Geralt's involvement. Geralt is pitching in to get Dudu under control so they don't have to involve bigoted law enforcement. (We stan Dainty ACAB Biberveldt in this house)
This particular scene opens when Geralt has pursued the doppler into a crowded marketplace and has finally cornered him in a tent. Dandelion is elsewhere in the market, being a slut, so he is nowhere to be seen. When Geralt corners Dudu, they are alone, and the doppler panics. He can't get away. So, he decides to be crafty.
First, he turns into Geralt as a way to protect himself. The book describes Dudu changing into Geralt, down to the last detail. Now there are two identical witchers in the tent. Then Dudu speaks.
"Don't come any closer," the second witcher said huskily and smiled. "Don't come any nearer, Geralt. I won't let you lay your hands on me."
So now he looks just like Geralt and has his husky voice. Perhaps he is hoping Geralt will not be able to harm someone who looks like himself. Perhaps he just wants to be equal to him physically.
Either way, Geralt's self esteem is too low for the first one to work. Here is how Geralt responds to an exact copy of himself.
"What a hideous smile I have," thought Geralt, reaching for his sword. "What a hideous face I have. And how hideously I squint? So is that what I look like? Damn."
So, Geralt reaches for his sword immediately, and the only reaction he has for himself is disgust.
Here is where I asked Cherry for her thoughts. Is Geralt as mean to himself in the original Polish? Hideous is pretty strong a word! Here is what she said:
Cherrypoison1889: Geralt is indeed very harsh on himself, when he sees the doppler transform into him. In Polish, he uses the word "paskudne" to describe himself, which is literally hideous. However, he also calls his face "gęba" which is a more vulgar word for face, which in Polish is "Twarz". So he's even harsher on himself, I'd say.
Oh noooo. But just when you think Geralt's low self esteem is going to be a strategic advantage, it betrays him. Why? Because when Dudu says, you can't defeat me, because I am you and I know everything you know...
"I am you," the doppler repeated. "you will not gain an advantage over me. You cannot defeat me, because I am you!"
That is where Geralt starts to lose ground. Why? Because Geralt of Rivia says, no, you can't really copy me! Because you are a good person, and I'm a bad bad bad man. I kill people. I'm a killer. You cannot relate. You cannot even begin to understand the mind of a bad evil killer man like me.
"No," the witcher countered, "you are not. And do you know why? Because you're a poor, little, good-natured doppler. A doppler who, after all, could have killed Biberveldt and buried his body in the undergrowth, by so doing gaining total safety and utter certainty that he would not be unmasked, ever, by anybody....But you didn't kill him...Because you're a poor, little, good-natured doppler, whose close friends call him Dudu...you only know how to copy what is good in us, because you don't understand the bad in us."
Geralt isn't saying this to be strategic. He truly believes it! He knows Dudu has seen his thoughts! Listen to what he says next...
"you aren't capable of defying me, because I am what you are unable of copying (sic). You are absolutely aware of this, Dudu. Because you took over my thoughts for a moment."
So, Geralt is like, you saw what a mess it was in there. You know what a killer I am. You may as well give up now.
I thought 'took over my thoughts' was a little bit of an awkward phrasing, it almost implies thought control, when I feel like the context is thought reading, so I asked Cherry about that. She said:
Cherrypoison1889: As for the "taking thoughts over" bit, it is the same in Polish, I am afraid. the word Sapko uses is "przejąć" which means exactly that, although I assume that the "take over" in English was meant to be understood as "acquiring" although I can't be sure of that. It sure does sound a touch awkward.
But back to the story, Tellico (Dudu) has now been inside Geralt's head. So he knows that's absolute bullshit, even if Geralt doesn't. He has seen what is in Geralt's heart, which prompts him to take another shape.
Tellico straightened up abruptly. His face's features, still those of the Witcher, blurred and spread out, and his white hair curled and began to darken.
"You're right, Geralt," he said indistinctly, because his lips had begun to change shape. "I took over your thoughts. Only briefly, but it was sufficient. Do you know what I'm going to do now?"
Do you? Do you dear reader, know what he's going to do now? I'm going to let you make a guess.
The leather witcher jacket took on a glossy, cornflower blue colour. The doppler smiled, straightened his plum bonnet with its egret's feather, and tightened the strap of the lute slung over his shoulder, the lute which had been a sword a moment ago.
Well, if you've read the books up to this point, we all know who's form he has taken. Cornflower blue, egret's feather, lute....smart doppler.
"I'll tell you what I"m going to do, Witcher," he said, with the rippling laughter characteristic of Dandelion. "I'll go on my way, squeeze my way into the crowd and change quietly into any old body, even a beggar. Because I prefer being a beggar in Novigrad to being a doppler in the wilds."
He then has a powerful monologue about being subject to extermination and genocide. About hunger and fear and freezing to death. He makes a very touching plea to Geralt, asking the Witcher why he is denied the right of survival, granted to everyone else, just because he is a doppler. It is about a page and half long and I HIGHLY recommend people read Sword of Destiny, because this is good shit. He says he will stay in Novigrad.
"As a resident of Novigrad, I'll trade, weave wicker baskets, beg or steal; as one of you I'll do what one of you usually does...."
The Witcher said nothing.
Now, Dudu, in Dandelion's shape, having seen Geralt's thoughts, takes his gamble. And boy does he have guts. He tells Geralt about himself, about his supposed bad bad heart.
"Yes, as I said," Tellico continued calmly. "I'm going. And you, Geralt, will not even try to stop me. Because I, Geralt, knew your thoughts for a moment. Including the ones you don't want to admit to, the ones you even hide from yourself. Because to stop me you'd have to kill me. And the thought of killing me in cold blood fills you with disgust doesn't it?
The Witcher said nothing.
Tellico adjusted the strap of his lute again, turned away and walked towards the exit. He walked confidently, but Geralt saw him hunch his neck and shoulders in expectation of the whistle of a sword blade. He put his sword in his scabbard. The doppler stopped in mid-step and looked around.
"Farewell", Geralt, he said. "Thank you."
"Farewell, Dudu," the Witcher replied. "Good luck."
Dudu wins that one, quite handily.
The doppler turned away and headed towards the crowded bazaar, with Dandelion's sprightly, cheerful, swinging gait. Like Dandelion, he swung his left arm vigorously, and just like Dandelion he grinned at the wenches as he passed them.
As he walks away, Dudu even plays the lute and sings "exactly like Dandelion". Then he shouts back advice for Geralt to pass on to the bard.
"Pass that on to Dandelion, if you remember," he called. "And tell him that Winter is a lousy title. The ballad should be called The Eternal Fire. Farewell, Witcher."
Dudu has seen Geralt's thoughts EVEN THE ONES HE WILL NOT ADMIT TO EVEN THE ONES HE HIDES FROM HIMSELF, and his next choice was to turn into Dandelion.
Now, do I think that the author meant to imply that Geralt is trying to hide his love of Dandelion? No. Slim chance of that. However, it isn't like it's a secret that Geralt hates killing creatures who do no harm or who cannot fight back. So there is still something a bit fuzzy to me about the thoughts that Geralt hides from himself.
It is ripe territory for a Geralt x Dandelion enjoyer to exploit, cultivate, and use for their fics and headcanons.
I asked Cherry for her thoughts about this, about what Geralt's hidden thoughts are having read the original Polish, and she said this:
Cherrypoison1889:
I feel like Dudu used Geralt's self-loathing against him, in a way. As in, if Geralt were to kill Dudu-as-Dandy, he would admit to himself that he is a ruthless, horrible person, who kills "intelligent" beings, despite what he claims, which would also make him a hypocrite. And we know Geralt is a big softie, so he wouldn't do it anyway. I think changing into Dandy was an additional precaution, just an extra measure in case Dudu turned out to be wrong.
I really liked this story, I don't remember reading it back when I read the books (it was ages ago, so I might be wrong anyway). It's really funny, and Geralt is babbie. Darling boy, he just bought himself a new jacket and it got ruined in the frenzy...
Babbie Geralt, that's our darling.
It is sad that Geralt has so much self loathing that it didn't help Dudu to look like him, but it is very sweet that Dandelion is such a point of vulnerability for Geralt, and that Dudu had his number.
Dudu wins this round soundly. The story isn't over. I won't spoil it in case you guys want to read it. But it has a great ending. It is definitely one of my favorites.
I will just never get over how easily he gets the upper hand on Geralt here. Geralt of Rivia, legendary monster hunter, defeated by little Dudu because of his low self worth, his mushy heart, his solidarity with non humans, and his love of a slutty bard.
Now, recommendations.
The Doppler Effect, by @a-kind-of-merry-war This is the first doppler fic I read in the fandom and it has alll the delicious emotional drama, pining, and sexiness that you want from a fic like this. It is excellent.
Images of You, by @pherryt This one is a delightful 'continuation' of what happens in Sword of Destiny. After Dudu learns about Geralt's feelings, he essentially matchmakes Geralt and Dandelion eventually receiving a sexy thank-you of his own.
Them, by @gilligangoodfellow I feel like dopplers and Dudu in particular is so ripe for exploration in fic. So it is wonderful to see a fic like this. It's a short character study of Dudu as gender fluid, with the doppler coming out to Zoltan. Seriously, try it.
Alright, thanks for reading, folks!
For more Geralt and Dandelion "I can't believe it's not fanon..."stay tuned. I am organizing a master post with all of the posts I've done. So keep your eyes out. (in the mean time, most of them seem to show up in the tag, just not all of them)
And lastly, THANK YOU CHERRY! I love having a partner to do these posts with!!
#the witcher#geralt of rivia#jaskier#dandelion#geraskier#gerlion#the witcher books#i can't believe it's not fanon#canon or fanon
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"specially abled" and "disabled" are absolutely, unequivocally not interchangeable terms. & yeah, it actually is that deep.
I wish my autoimmune disease made me specially abled instead of regularly ill. I'm a pro now at managing constantly-changing treatment regimens, coordinating monthly (if not more) doctor visits & endless bloodwork, but alas- that's not a superpower. it's the day-to-day reality of living with a disability.
I can only speak as a someone who was relatively healthy before I got sick, but the mourning period I went through was brutal. getting diagnosed with an incurable disease brings a metric fuckton of grief with it, requiring a huge perspective shift.
I'm an intensely independent, self-reliant person- sometimes to my own detriment. unsurprisingly, coming to terms with this new reality was no small task.
when I was finally diagnosed, I made a playlist (my go-to coping mechanism). I played one song on a loop because of its namesake line, & it still packs an emotional gut-punch for me: "I needed to lose you to love me."
I was angry at my body for 'failing' me- for having zero control over such an all-important outcome (my health). I had to reconcile myself to the reality that my life was different now. I had to lose my old view of myself to love the new version that needed more sleep, more sick days, more accommodations.
it took me years to get comfortable using the term "disability" to help describe what's now a big part of my lived experience (especially since mine is invisible). it went from being a foreign term I could've never imagined using for myself to my bridge to self acceptance.
(note: I have my own complex relationship with the term, as do most people. I’m talking about the harm in equating terms here, not implying that anyone should use these words to describe themselves. that’s entirely up to the individual.)
there's nothing romantic about my disease- a quality that "specially abled" imbues for me. do I- & all disabled people- have special abilities, valuable experience & unique skills? you bet your ass we do. one has absolutely nothing to do with the other.
every person has the right to choose the terms they're comfortable with to describe their experience. for me? treating "disability" like a dirty word 1) glosses over (if not entirely erases) the very real, life-altering struggle inherent to my condition, & 2) muddies the waters, potentially making it even more difficult for disabled people to get the accommodations we need when we need them.
using terms like "specially abled" isn't some evil, awful thing, though. if anything, it tells me that the person is trying to be delicate & respectful with their word choices. I genuinely appreciate that, even if it's misguided (in my opinion).
when in doubt? listen to how people describe themselves. honor them by using the same descriptors (unless they tell you otherwise). choose to believe people when they tell you how terms affect them.
forgive yourself if you don't always get it right- who does? perfection isn't the point- effort is the point. kindness is the point. respect is the point. how we get there is as varied as people, but it starts with the words we use.
#disability#disabled#disabilities#autoimmune#autoimmune disease#i'd say 'back to our regularly scheduled ql programming' but it was a take in the ql community that prompted this so-#back to kind respectful programming (manifesting)#mor rambles
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⋆⋆⋆ ┊ heavens blessing, levi ackerman . . .
warnings: rivals to lovers, bickering/arguments, sad love confession, close-death experience, levi is kind of mean in the beginning
type: flangst ( my fav <3 )
a/n: i made this at like, 3am, so please excuse how horrible it is :’)
MY life was one thing—a fight to the top. a fight to power.
levi ackerman ranked just above me in our cadet training. that second place title killed me.
i used to hate when people compared us. when they said, “she’s only second to levi.” if anything, i loathed it. i should be on top, i should be the captain—but of course, when the time came around, he had two more titan kills than me. now, we are tied.
levi never failed to make it known that he was ranked higher. if anything, he found it amusing that it was he who qualified and not me. and boy, did he abuse his power.
now, levi was walking past us, handing out shift assignments.
“eren, border control.” he moves on, “armin, go meet hanji for the security meeting.” and finally, he stops at me. instead of reading off his clipboard like he did for the others, he places it behind him, and stares straight at me.
“last and very least..” he slants his head, “y/n. stable duty.”
anger envelopes me. “what? you can’t do that! i’m the best soldier here, i’d be much more use out there!”
he clicks his tongue. “ooh, that’s where you’re wrong.” he leans closer, “you’re second-best. remember?”
i grumble. “just because you ranked above me—by, might i remind you, two kills—doesn’t mean you can just push me around. i’m still the best solider here, ranking or not.
“and i have a feeling you’re just putting me on stable duty so i don’t have a chance to pass you in kills.” i spit.
he takes a deep breath, and leans toward me. his eyes are almost frightening—cold, icey and direct. i want to shrink under his stare, his posture, his very aura.
“you’re right.” he says, “i do rank above you. and you know what that means?” his eyes narrow. “that means i can do whatever the fuck i want with you.”
i open my mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give me the chance.
“do you want another week of stable duty? because i can do that. talk back to me again, and you’ll face the consequences.”
my jaw clenches in anger. my eyes glare into his, but both him and i can tell i’m losing this battle.
“you got it?” he says. when i don’t respond, he repeats himself. “do you understand, soldier?”
i murmur a “yes, captain.”
“louder.”
“yes,” i inhale, before spitting out the word—“captain.”
“say it nicer.”
something inside me snaps, “no. you know what?” i push him back, “i’m done. give me stable duty, at-least it will keep me away from you, and your sadistic, weirdo self.”
with that, i storm away. a little childish, i agree, but i knew if i stayed any longer i’d argue with levi until the sun set. at-least i get a break, today.
behind me, i hear a few of the new soldiers defending me. they say things like, “don’t you think that was a bit far, levi?” or, “i kind of agree, her skills would be useful out there..” but they were instantly shut down by levi.
— - mid-night . . approx. six hours later.
i felt disgusting. after hours of working in the stables, a long, hot shower was just the thing i needed. i wrung the water out of my hair, and since it was around eleven pm i knew everyone would be asleep. so, i threw on my pyjama’s, and stepped out of the shower corridors.
i wanted to murder levi, consequences be damned. he never failed to make an absolute fool out of me. one day, i swore i’d get him back.
as i turned the corner, my heart stopper in my chest when i saw a figure in-front of me, but it was too late—i had already collided with them.
“huh—! watch it—“ levi cuts himself off when he realises it’s me. “oh. what are you doing here?”
“uh, crazy concept, but i also live here.” i spit. his eyes narrow, before travelling over me, head to toe and back to my face.
“lights out was an hour ago. you shouldn’t be out here.”
“that’s why i was trying to get back to my room, before you rudely got in my way.” i say. he blinks. “so.. move.”
the corner of his lip snags up. “say please.”
i scoff. “you’re such a prick,” i spit, pushing past him. before i can keep walking, he roughly grabs my arm, stopping me.
“remember who’s in control here, y/n.” he says coldly, “or, did you forget all of your training?” he tuts, “you have to be dismissed before you can walk away from your superiors.”
“eat shit, ackerman.”
“that’s captain levi to you.”
i rip my arm from his grasp. “you’re too cocky for your own good.” i turn to face him, “from now on, ranking or not, you need to learn to respect me. i can just as easily surpass you.
“you’ll need to get used to calling me captain l/n. just a matter of time, if you keep up with abusing your power just to mess with me.”
“tough chance.” he says with a slight chuckle, “goodnight, y/n.”
“off yourself.”
with that, i spin on my heel and stalk away from him.
— - the next day . . dawn
i was ready for another day of stable duty. if anything, i was kind of happy to spend another peaceful day with the horses. i was prepared for it.
“yeah, about that.” levi says. this time, he isn’t looking at me, but at the ground. “erwin..” he grits, “insisted you come on the mission today. said that.. your skills would be useful.”
my brows raise. a small smile finds my lips. “what was that? sorry, i couldn’t hear you. something about.. how i’m skilled?”
“i’m not repeating myself.” he snarls, “get your gear, and meet us by the gate. don’t be late.”
he stalls away like an angry child who didn’t get his favourite toy. i chuckle, and walk toward the supply room.
i meet the rest of them by the gate. the line consisted of a few of the rookies—eren, reiner, connie, and jean, and beside them, hanji, erwin and levi, who’s holding the reins to a horse beside him which i suspect is mine.
with a tall chest, i walk toward levi. “i believe that’s mine.”
he spares me one look, before making a tch sound with his lips, throwing the reins toward me.
hanji briefs us a look, before whispering in a not-so-subtle voice, “are you sure it’s a good idea to pair them together? i don’t think the rookies need to hear their bickering all day.”
levi’s head snaps toward them, “we don’t bicker.”
“yeah. he’s just a pain in my ass most the time, that’s all.” i say with a smirk.
he looks to me. “if anything, you’re the thorn in my side. always needing saving, always complaining-“
“uh—! name one time i’ve ever needed your saving. and i don’t complain!”
“uh, let’s see, two days ago?” he deadpans.
“that was not saving—“
“yeah. you definitely don’t bicker.” jean chuckles.
“shut up, rookie!” levi and i say simultaneously. we look to each-other, opening our mouths to speak before erwin cuts us both off.
“today, you two. are you forgetting we have responsibilities? your flirting can wait till later.” erwin says, pulling the reins so his horse turns.
my face heats up. “we’re not flirting!” we say together again.
“stop saying what i say.” levi narrows his eyes.
“you’re saying what i’m saying!”
“you were given an order.” erwin’s voice hardens. erwin wasn’t usually too hard on us, but his patience can only stretch so far before it snaps.
i look down, and mutter a, “sorry, sir.”
he nods, just once. “good. now, we have a mission to get to.”
“yes sir!”
— - approx. one hour later . .
titans were all around us, at every angle. a huge herd just appeared out of no-where while we were travelling to the next way-point, and thank god we happened to be passing through a city.
levi and i were together, like usual, and we had all split up into groups of two. and like usual.. we made it into a competition.
“i bet you two training days i’ll kill more than you.”
“hah—! you got yourself a deal.” levi says, before turning and zipping away from me.
ahead of me were two ten-meter titans—easy money. i press the blade, zipping toward them, manoeuvring away from their hands and slicing my blade across his nape. it falls to the ground with a loud thud, and i lock my line to the second ones nape.
THUD.
. . . five titans later, i had gotten a bit carried away. i didn’t realize i was using so much gas, and that my blades were on their last pair.
shit, shit, shit! is all i can think as i race faster away from the five-meter titan right on my tail. i was dead, so dead. i had run out of gas, and i realised before i could think i had reached a dead-end. my leg is slashed from when i fell, and my run is looking more like a desperate limp.
the titan was closing in on me. i turned, scanning the area for something i could do, but that was it. i was cornered. there was no running.
the titan crouches in-front of me, and for the first time in my life i was truly, rawly scared. the titans never scared me when i was a kid, or a cadet, but now..
the titan’s mouth was curled into a horrifying smile. it’s eyes were bulging, hands and chin covered in blood from a previous city’s massacre.
this was it. as i was lifted off the ground, i accepted my fate. my eyes moved toward the sun. i didn’t want the last thing i’d look at to be it’s face.
huh. i never noticed how warm the sun was. i guess i should’ve appreciated nature a bit more. i would have, if i knew this was the day i was going to die.
it’s mouth opened. i could smell it’s foul breath, smelling of human flesh.
i guess you win, levi. just this once.
SHING!
“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER!”
SLASH.
i fell to the ground. my back slammed against the pavement, and i cried out in pain. my head was fuzzy, mostly from the fall.
i hear the wind in my ear as i am picked up, and the sound of metal whipping as i’m brought to the roof.
my vision focuses when i am placed down on a roof. oh. it’s levi. he is speaking, but i can’t really hear him that well.
“damnit, damnit!”
his hands are on my face. his eyes are scanning me for injuries. why is he doing that? why does he care..
“fuck, please be okay, REINER, OVER HERE!”
“SAY SOMETHING!”
oh. now i can hear him.
i wince, my eyes fluttering as they focused on levi’s face. no, that can’t be levi.. why is he crying? levi wouldn’t cry.
“what happened?” i register it to be reiner’s voice, and i turn to him. i push myself up, crying out from the pain in my back, my head. i touch my hand to the back of my head, looking at the blood on my fingers.
“it’s alright, it’s nothing, i’m fine—!”
two arms are wrapped around me. clutching me tight. daring to never let go.
levi.. is hugging me.
“god damnit.. you idiot! what were you thinking?!”
“you’re.. hugging me.” i mean to say in my head, but i say out-loud by accident.
he pulls away, grasping my face in his hands. his hands are shaking. “don’t you ever do that again. you hear me?! i’ll give you damn stable duties everyday if you don’t smarten up!”
“i- you— i can’t promise i won’t—“
“nearly killing yourself over a stupid bet, really?! i can’t believe you—“
“levi.”
“out of all the stupid, idiotic, irrational things you’ve done—“
“levi—“
“seriously! if i didn’t get here when i did, you’d have been dead, and over what? an unsettled—“
“LEVI!”
“what?!”
i pant, placing a hand on his shoulder. “stop. fucking. talking.”
he stares at me for a second. then, a smile cracks on his lips. then a laugh. “i love you so fucking much.”
copr. goldessia. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, share on other platforms without credit/permission.
#attack on titan#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi aot#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader#aot one shot#aot image#fluff
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63, bonten ofc.
BONTEN X FEM!READER.
contains - smut, gangbang, cum-eating (sanzu is very nasty here), blindfolds/bondage, slight dumbification, and overstimulation.
author’s note - oh em gee!! bonten! i was too excited writing this so i kinda made sanzu the main guy idk!
“how about we play a guessing game? we tie you to that table over there, put a blindfold on you, and you tell us which one of us is fucking you just by how we feel inside you.”
it’s sanzu’s voice you hear as you’re splayed across the large office table, body naked and on display for the executives. he wraps his tie over your eyes, successfully blocking your field of vision so he could move onto the real fun. “you ready to play, angelwhore?”
you nod your head — “mhm” — anticipating what’s to happen next. the rustling sounds of fabric and metal from their expensive belts clanking is enough to have you releasing even more slick, preparing you further for the long night ahead. you feel long slender hands run up and down your thighs, teasingly between your folds and thumbing at your aching clit. quickly, those fingers find purchase within your walls, steadily fucking them up against your sweet spot. just from those fingers alone, it’d be pretty damn hard to figure out who’s making you feel good and if he were to speak, his cover would be blown and sanzu’s little game wouldn’t be so fun anymore.
soon enough, those fingers reach deeper, a foreign feeling now aiding the sensation. cold, stainless steel rings.
rings, rings, rings. who wore rings? it couldn’t have been mikey, his fingers aren’t as long. definitely not rindou, he uses his fists too much to even think about decorating them with anything other than brass knuckles. your mind shifts to find anyone who’d fit the description, who’s good with their fingers and care enough about their appearance to don rings. koko? or ran?
“who’s got his fingers deep inside you?” sanzu goads in a singsong manner from the back of the room, watching as you squirm to chase the high one of them is leading you too. with a pace as teasing as his, your clouded mind finally figured out who it is.
“it’s ran! r-right?” sanzu smiles at your query, scars etching into that pretty diamond shape you love. “attagirl, see how fun this is? all ya gotta do is guess correctly ‘nd you can cum as much as you’d like.”
ran continues to edge you to your orgasm with his limber fingers, gradually increasing in pace until you cry out from pleasure and make a pretty mess of his digits. slowly, he removes his fingers and brings them up to your lips. “taste yourself, princess.” and instinctively, you do so.
there’s a brief moment of dormancy before you’re met with the sensation of a thick cock burying itself within your walls. the pace is reluctant almost, like the person inside you can’t believe that you feel so good. so wet. his hands rest at your waist and softly grip the flesh as he takes advantage of the warm heat enveloped around him. it’s hitto. he’s always been a shy lover, ever so gentle when it came to you because he’d always been scared of losing self control.
after letting kakuchou use your body to get off and coax another orgasm out of you. it was easy to guess after that — mikey, because he had positioned your body to ride him. koko, because you could hear his breathy groans as he fucked you, takeomi, because the pungent scent of cigars on his breath gave him away and rindou, because his pace was hard and unfaltering.
you were too fucked out to even continue afterward, yet you did. there wasn’t much more guessing to do since it was only sanzu left. he leans down to kneel at the edge of the table, pulling your body towards his with your legs spread. you were absolutely stuffed to the brim with a mix of your cum and the other execs. and just like the sick bastard he is, he dips his tongue into your hole, letting his nose rub at your clit while he groans at the soft babbles that you let out.
haru spends his time between your legs, eating you out and making you an even bigger mess, letting the sticky mixture soak down onto the lacquered oak. he maintains eye contact all throughout his ministrations and even when your sensitive walls clamp down onto him to signal your release. he finally takes a break after a few more minutes to lean back and admire his work, the other men in the room with him setting their own paces as they stroke themselves.
“yer a fun little thing, look’it how you good ya entertain us. pretty little honorary whore.”
#🎀.prompts!#bonten smut#bonten x reader#tokyo revengers smut#tokyorev smut#tr smut#tr x reader#tokyorev x reader#sanzu smut#sanzu x reader#mikey smut#mikey x reader#ran smut#ran x reader#kakuchou smut#kakuchou x reader#koko smut#kokonoi x reader#koko x reader#takeomi smut#takeomi x reader#rindou smut#rindou x reader#seraph.replies!
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Ok some thoughts about senator Maul AU because I keep thinking about it
Palpatine never finds an apprentice in this AU, so he ends up not being such a huge threat
The events of Phantom Menace only kinda happened - Naboo was attacked by the Trade Federation, but there was no Sith to pursue them and kill Qui-Gon, so things got resolved much more easily
Qui-Gon lives, so he gets to train Anakin, and Dooku doesn't get tempted by the dark side
I think Dooku still quits the Jedi Order, but this time it's because he feels like he could do more good as a politician than as a jedi. He keeps a good relationship with the Jedi Order and the Republic and doesn't become a separatist
Every time he's in Coruscant he visits Qui-Gon and Anakin (and Obi-Wan) and chats with them over a nice lunch, which is good because it gives Anakin a politician role model that isn't Palpatine, and a better perspective of his options - he can leave the Order if he finds a new purpose, it's not a betrayal or a failure
Maul was raised in Dathomir so he's not a sith murder machine, but since he's such a powerful Force-senstitive he was raised closer to his mother and the Nightsisters than to his brothers and the Nightbrothers
(Savage and Feral are alive and happy btw. They visit Maul in Coruscant sometimes. I think he might also have one or two sisters because why not)
He still doesn't like Jedi but it's like. He doesn't want to kill them, he just thinks they're way too limiting and self-righteous. Like how Obi-Wan doesn't like politicians
He rarely makes speeches on the senate, so hearing him speak is a rare treat
Picture holonet social media hornyposting under every clip of him speaking because he has a very sexy voice
His outfits are also pretty daring (read: sexy) compared to most (male) senators. The entire Dathomir delegation dresses pretty similarly, but he gets the most attention
Maul vs Padmé who wore it better type posts
He and Padmé have this weird kinda-rivalry because they're very opposite in a lot of ways, but they still vote on the same side in a lot of topics since they both have a very "I am doing this for my people" mentality
He also absolutely hates Palpatine because he gets extremely rotten vibes from him (he's more attuned to the dark side than the Jedi so he probably Feels Palpatine's dark side vibes better than the Jedi. He Feels Palpatine is Bad)
When/if the Jedi Order ever finds out Palpatine is a sith he will be very unsurprised
Ventress is a representative and Maul's "apprentice", learning the Senate life from him
I'm making her younger than her "canon" age here (by about 10ish years) because it makes more sense to me and because giving Maul a government-assigned baby sister is funny
From what we see in the movies each world seems to only have one senator but I want the Dathomir delegation to have at least two because I think it's more fitting (and realistic, every world needs more than one senator what the fuck)
I think it would be funny if Maul swears he's gonna quit soon and Ventress will take his place in the senate but then the other senator retires first and makes Ventress her successor so Maul has to stay a senator for longer. He just wants to get out of this fucking planet
On the Jedi side of this AU I think Anakin grows into a much more disciplined jedi because Qui-Gon the rules bender would definitely stay in contact with Shmi so Anakin's anxieties regarding his mom will be more controlled, and they would be contacted immediately when she gets kidnapped by the tuskens so they save her faster and she doesn't die and neither do the tuskens and everything is fine
Plus Anakin gets to know his new family better and have a brother and add a new dad to his collection <3
Maybe Obi-Wan gets Ahsoka as a padawan this time, so she can have a master who actually wants to teach, and also be kinda-siblings with Anakin and cause chaos with him while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan aren't looking
The Separatists never really take off, so the clone wars never happen, but I think the attacks on senators that were happening at the start of AotC still happen because I think it's fun to have drama and have Jedi escorts assigned to senators (read: good excuse to set up an obimaul and allow the anidala plot to happen)
I want Maul to be miserable wet cats with Obi-Wan on Kamino so I am allowing the clones to exist. Purely for comedic plot opportunity. And because I love clones so I want them to exist
But I think this time they only made a single batch of like 10-100 clones and were waiting for the Jedi to get back to them with approval to make more
Maul sees this and goes "Absolutely the fuck NOT" so no more clones are made after those. Sad!
With Maul there to help the Jango fight is much more successful (and 50% less humiliating on Obi-Wan's side) so they capture him and no one has to die
Sidious had to hire Jango this time since I am not letting him have an apprentice, so Jango is like "I was hired by some old weirdo in a cloak who called himself Darth Sidious who sounded and looked a lot like the chancellor from Naboo" and Maul feels so fucking vindicated that YES the bad vibes he gets from Palpatine were correct can we PLEASE kill him now
Jango gets arrested and maybe he makes a deal to work under the Jedi instead of staying in jail so he can take care of Boba instead of leaving him to his own luck
Boba being raised with Jedi younglings while Jango is busy offworld....
The clones also become part of the Jedi Order so they can help Jedi with peacekeeping and defense and stuff
Palpatine gets found out and arrested and/or killed by the Jedi and everyone else gets to live happily ever after. Eventually.
... this is. Way longer than planned. I'm having fun
#hm i should make an original post tag#senator maul au#long post#maul#darth maul#ventress#padmé#palpatine#obi-wan#ahsoka#anakin#qui-gon#count dooku#... ok that's enough tagging characters. find this if you will. don't find this if you willn't.#this post spent so many days in my drafts because there's just so many thoughts to write down#and this isn't even every thought#i want maul to take obi-wan to dathomir expecting mother talzin to get rid of kenobi for him but she actually welcomes him#because he's dooku's grandpadawan and dooku is an old friend. and maul is mega pissed. like. how dare you get along with my mom.#also. live ahsoka (and ventress) reaction every time obi-wan flirty-banters with maul#and delayed obi-wan reaction when he remembers maul is a senator and this is highly inappropriate behavior#maul does not react he just glares at obi-wan#also imagining maul using magic and fighting with a magic-infused staff. sexy.#i need to post this already or else it will remain forever in my drafts#so let it be known this is not a complete solid idea this is an idea in progress#have fun thinking about it with me
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The Story of Minglan
I am so upset about Buwei's death but very curious about what is coming next. Since this is a c-drama and they can't have an immoral Emperor on the throne as an endgame, I suppose that the Yong family is going down one way or another. Let's hope they take the Qi household with them, especially Princess Pingning.
Team Prince Yan!
***
Yawn.
My lack of sympathy for this woman and her whole family cannot be overstated.
***
Did any of you care whether other people lived or died?
Fuck you both.
And the best part is that his stupid ass thought that if he was to whine in front of the Emperor about Minglan, this useless man would grant him the marriage 🤣🤣
***
He has already forgotten that she beat Buwei to death because of him, smh, and they are back to business as usual.
Human lives literally mean nothing to either of them. I wouldn't be able to forgive her if she murdered a pet hamster to hurt me, let alone a whole human being 😡😡
***
Hopefully, he will be lucky enough not to meet you in his next life.
***
Oh, boo-hoo.
How terrible for your mother and you that your delusions of grandeur are just that. Delusions. Classism is hell of a drug.
I hope you get squashed.
***
Do it!! Please! Make my day!!
***
LMAO, WHAT HARMONIOUS RELATIONSHIP?
You have literally had people raped and kidnapped, and very likely murdered. And here you are, threatening to murder more. The cognitive dissonance, I cannot 🤣🤣
***
Oh, yes, your daughter is going to be so happy in this marriage 🙄
Sooooooo happy!! Everything a loving parent would want for their child 🙄🙄
They are all literally insane. Unlimited power and wealth have rotted their brains.
***
That this needs to be spelled out for him is just 🤯🤯
And, like, we don't even go as far as Consort Yong. His own shitty mother could and would do this if he was to somehow elope with Minglan. This is also why there is absolutely no chance the Sheng family would allow this marriage to happen without the Duke and Duchess of Qi fully onboard and Minglan would never do anything that would jeopardise her entire family, such as run off with him without their permission.
***
MTE, Qi Heng, I fully agree with you on this.
Why anyone would bother to even cross the street for your worthless ass, let alone bloody their hands to get you, is very much beyond me.
***
LMAO, YOU ARE A USELESS MOTHER!
He is not a "thing", he is a whole human and you are talking about marriage here, an entwining of lives. How happy is she going to be, married to a man who resents her? Who married her only because you threatened to kill his parents and the woman he loves? Are you serious? OK, I can buy that an endlessly indulged princess will have the brain power and impulse control of a toddler and may not be able to see the full consequences of this, but what is your excuse? Moreover, what is your husband's excuse? All of you have worms for brains.
***
I'VE BEEN SAYING!!
Why must you make me agree with Qi Heng, smh?
Anyway, I can't wait to watch Zhu Yilong in something else. No love for this particular character but he's really fantastic, very subtle and very expressive.
***
Oh, thank god.
Hopefully, now Minglan can let him go and go back to being her usual intelligent self. This doomed side ship has been getting on my last nerve.
***
What the absolute fuck are you talking about, Gu Tingye? I thought you were supposed to be smart and looking out for Minglan!
Yes, please kidnap a fucking Imperial princess and see how well that works out both for the House of Qi and Sheng!
Why is everyone stupid all of a sudden?
***
How is Yuanruo the one speaking common sense all of a sudden?
Gu Tingye, what the fuck is wrong with you?
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Eye of the Storm III
author note: our favourite himbo dragon fae is back＼(≧▽≦)／now this is instalment is a bit self indulgent, as I’ve been really been struggling with university lately. Special shout out to everyone on the academic pathway, we got this!! I’ve also wanted a chance to explore that one line Lilia says about how time flows differently for fae, and this gave me the perfect excuse!
Please note that this is a female character.
characters: Malleus Draconia x F!Fae Reader
warnings: angst, academic anxiety
“I would hardly call this a ‘neutral location’ Lilia!”
Here you were, whisper yelling after the man who seemed to be the cause of most of your issues lately. Said man seemed to be absolutely beside himself with glee, barely acknowledging your clear frustration with him, “whatever do you mean, dear F/N?” Lilia didn’t even shorten his step to respond to you, continuing to glide down the corridor of the College’s main building.
You cursed internally as you picked up your pace to keep up with him. You had a feeling he was doing it on purpose, he had been conveniently avoiding all of your questions since you had enrolled at Night Raven College, citing ‘back to school’ activities that he needed to get in order. Hence why you were now practically chasing him through the main building.
“What do I mean? The dorm is modelled after the castle in Briar Valley! Malleus basically controls the dorm! What part of that is neutral?!” Lilia skidded to a halt at your frustrated words, and you almost walked straight into the back of him. This new, diminutive form he was partial to during his time on campus was definitely taking some time to get used to. Whilst you were only a little bit taller than him, he still radiated an aura that made it seem like he was ten feet taller than you, especially when he flashed that smile that had a hint of condescension in it. Like he was right now.
“Oh you noticed? I wasn’t sure you would, all things considered. Isn’t it reassuring? A source of familiarity in an unknown place?” Lilia flashed his signature fanged grin your way and you responded with an open glare.
“Why would that make me feel reassured? I’ve basically been transferred from one foreign castle to another!”
“Don’t be like that, dear. You have the whole of the college to explore your relationship with Malleus, you needn’t be worried about being simply confined to the dorm.”
You knew you shouldn’t have trusted this fae. Lilia was always a step ahead. He had manufactured a situation where you felt you were getting some freedom from this bizarre situation whilst simultaneously still making it so they ultimately had the upper hand. Lilia could see the grievance still clear on your expression, so he continued,
“besides, this college is an excellent opportunity for you, F/N. It would do you well to expand your horizons of the world outside of the Sombre Wilds.” You opened your mouth to protest, but Lilia raised a finger to stop you. A habit of his when it came to you. “Not just for yourself, but imagine the wealth of experience you could take back to the Sombre Wilds if you choose to graduate? Even if you choose not to, even a year’s worth of experience at this college would be of great benefit to you and the Sombre Wilds.”
Lilia placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a good natured squeeze, his smile free of any of its previous condescension, “stop worrying yourself so much with your current situation with Malleus, and focus on yourself. In the end, what will happen, will happen. Don’t squander a promising opportunity over fears of the unknown.”
You hated to think it, but Lilia did have a point. You’d never thought of it like that, how you could use this experience to bring benefit back to your home. You continued to ponder this, only for your thoughts to be cut into by Lilia.
“Speaking of focusing on yourself, you better get a move on, otherwise you’ll be late to class.” You snapped out of your thoughts to catch Lilia gliding away down the corridor, giving you his signature fanged smile.
Ack! You’d forgotten it was lunch! What class did you even have? Where did you go? Before you could even ask, Lilia had already vanished!
You had made it to class just in time. You’d never thought that the endlessly loud shouting of Malleus’ lime green bodyguard would ever come in handy, but hearing him bellowing for you through the campus’ main building had helped you locate him rather easily, for him to usher you to your shared class. You noticed when he wasn’t attempting to be stuck to Malleus’ hip, he’d be stuck to yours by proxy. Whilst he definitely seemed wary of you, he never directed the disdain he launched at most of the school population at you.
Your first few weeks worth of classes were miserable. It felt like everything was an obstacle in your way. By far the biggest was time. For fae, time is inconsequential, whereas for humans it is fleeting. You could barely keep up with your new fast paced lifestyle. If it wasn’t for Sebek herding you from one class to another, you were sure you’d have missed most of them.
Next was the classes themselves. Whilst you managed to hold your own in the more physical and practical magic side of the curriculum, you found yourself quickly falling behind on the more academic side. Assignments were starting to pile up, assigned readings were getting longer and longer and yet you felt you didn’t understand the content you had learned in the first week.
By the end of the week, a lump had formed in your throat that you couldn’t budge. You were hit with a fresh batch of assignments and books to read, and you were overwhelmed. You grit your teeth until your jaw ached to distract yourself from the tell tale burning sensation at your eyes. You wanted to lie to yourself and say it was from the lack of sleep from nights spent trying to catch up, but you knew it wasn’t just that.
You thought your day couldn’t get any worse as you stumbled through the dorm on your way back to your room, your arms piled high with books and notes. But luck was not in your favour, as you collided with a hard surface as you turned down the corridor, sending you and the contents in your arms tumbling to the floor.
You sat on the floor, looking at the scattered pages of your notes in defeat. If the ground could swallow you up right now and let you disappear, that would be ideal. What had you even walked into? Was there a door there that you had forgotten? Before you could even venture a glance, a gloved hand came into your view. Your eyes followed up the arm of the offered palm, and locked onto concerned green ones.
Malleus.
“Are you alright? I hope I haven’t injured you.” Malleus asked, his voice soft, his concern for you clear as day. You continued to stare dumbly. With how overwhelmed you had been feeling these past few weeks, your situation with Malleus has slipped your mind. This was likely helped by the fact that you hadn’t really seen him since you had arrived, as you shared no classes, but it didn’t explain why you didn’t see him around the dorm. But you had no time to think about that.
Malleus was starting to look a little dejected as you just stared blankly at his offered hand. But really, Malleus had no idea what he had invoked. The simple act of him asking you if you were alright was the final straw, and had your lip wobbling, tears streaming before you even realised. Malleus retracted his hand as if it had been stung, and a look of panic spread across his face.
Sobs started to bubble out of your chest before you could stop them, and you pressed a hand to your cheek in a failed attempt to brush away your tears. “I-i’m sorry... I-i...” you tried to choke out through your tears. Your voice snapped Malleus out of his frozen panic, and he was beside you in an instant. His hands hovered, wanting to touch, to help, but awkward and unsure of where to put them. “No, no, there is no need for you to apologise. Tell me where it hurts and I will make it better--”
“I-i hate it here, Malleus!” You all but wailed, the wave of emotion that have built up in you over these past few weeks finally bursting free, “I never know the time, everything is so quick, and I feel like the only one who never knows what is happening! What is wrong with me?” Your voice cracked towards the end of your tearful rant, and you buried your face in your hands in despair.
It was silent, other than your muffled sobbing into your hands. You hadn’t realised that Malleus had even moved until you felt an arm hook underneath your knees and suddenly you were lifted from the ground and cradled in warmth. You startled at the action, but you didn’t have the time to protest as you suddenly felt magic bloom around you, and you were teleported.
Before you knew it, you were in a room you weren’t familiar with. Malleus strode with purpose across the room, and soon he sat upon the bed, situating you sideways across his lap. Your protests were silenced again when fingers gently gripped your chin and tilted your face upwards, meeting emerald eyes again. Malleus’ expression was serious as he studied your face as you sniffled, taking in the growing circles beneath your eyes and your paler complexion.
“You haven’t been sleeping.” He stated neutrally, his eyes sliding up to meet yours, “have you been taking your meals? When was the last time you ate?” You shrank under his gaze, and his serious expression softened. His hand released your chin to cup at your cheek instead, thumb swiping at the tears that still fell down your cheeks.
“I... Um... I-i think I had something for lunch yesterday but... Time, I-i’m not very good at it and...” You felt your lip begin to shake again as a fresh onslaught of tears blurred your vision, feeling embarrassed at your own inability to master such a simple concept as time. Seeing you becoming agitated again, Malleus shushed you softly, his thumb swiping soothingly across the plane of your cheek.
“Don’t fret. Time is not something fae worry themselves over. It is understandable that you would be confused in a human dominated environment, where time is of the essence.” Malleus spoke softly, before waving his free hand to conjure a small bowl of fruit, "but you mustn't become distracted from your meals. Here," he offers you the bowl, but you ignore it.
"B-but it's not just one problem!" You cried, unable to shake your grief despite his comfort, "the classes, the assignments, i-i hardly understand them. Most of this I've never heard of before and--" You were cut off be a plump grape being pressed to your lips, blinking your tears back to see Malleus gazing down at you fondly.
"One problem at a time," he stated, "we'll deal with this together, one at a time. But first, we focus on your health. So eat." He pressed the grape to your lips with emphasis at his words, until you relented and let it slip into your mouth, despite mumbled complaints.
Malleus dutifully fed you each piece of fruit from the bowl, and if you hadn't been so caught up with your own misery, you'd have noticed how content he looked as he did so, and the flicker of disappointment over his features when the bowl ran empty. With a flick of his wrist, the bowl he conjured disappeared, and he was shifting you off of his lap to lay upon the bed.
"Sleep." He ordered, and although soft in delivery, he was giving you no room to argue. Despite that, you still tried, "but my assignments! I need to--"
"Sleep. You need to sleep." Malleus reached out a hand and stroked it along your hair, nails gently scratching down your scalp and running down through the length. Your eyes already began to droop at the pleasant sensation, and he continued the motion in an effort to lull you away to sleep.
Fighting the pull to sleep was futile, try as you might to blink or shake your head, exhaustion quickly coming to claim you. "Why are you being so nice to me?" You mumbled drowsily, and Malleus hummed softly in acknowledgement of your question. His hand left your hair, travelling down your shoulder to take your hand.
"Why would I not be? You are my beloved." He answered, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. He waited for your response, but received nothing, for you'd already slipped away into slumber. Malleus smiled tenderly, gently placing your hand back by your side, soon tucking a blanket over your slumbering form. How beautiful you looked, and how he longed to hold you, just like before. But he could wait.
He could always wait for you.
A short, sharp rapt on the door sounded before the door swung open without pause, Lilia wandering in with a pile of books and papers floating beside him.
"Malleus, funnily enough I've found F/N's school materials littered along the corridor. You've been pining for a reason to approach her, why don't you give them back and-- Oh." Lilia's eyes landed on you, still sleeping soundly in Malleus' bed. His ruby eyes travelled over to Malleus, situated in the chair at his desk, an intrigued smile growing across his lips.
"What do we have here? This is a scene I can remember. Your courting went well so soon? Am I alright to approach, or will you growl at me again?" Lilia teased, only receiving a deadpan glare from Malleus in response.
Lilia walked towards Malleus, the books magically depositing on the desk while Malleus grabbed the papers out of the air, surveying them. "Has something happened?" Lilia asked, his head tilted in curiosity as he looked between you both.
Malleus only hummed as he began sorting your assignments into some sort of order. "F/N has been wronged by this college and it's human practices." Malleus stated with disdain and Lilia quirked an inquisitive brow at his charge's words.
"How so?"
"She is unused to the fleeting lives of the children of men and their desire to race time. It has left her feeling unworthy." Malleus responded, fetching his pen from his uniform pocket and beginning to write.
"Ahh of course, I should have realised that would be an issue. F/N has never really left the Wilds, after all." Lilia sighed, feeling a pinch of guilt over his own negligence. But a small smile soon returned to his features, "what do you plan to do about it?"
"I shall complete these assignments, and then I'll have a word with that crow." Malleus huffed, his pen gliding across the paper with purpose. Lilia frowned slightly, and leaned against the desk, "you can't do F/N's assignments for her, Malleus."
"I can do whatever I want for my beloved." Malleus retorted petulantly, not looking at Lilia but beginning to glare at the paper. Lilia's lips quirked upward in amusement at Malleus' obvious defensiveness. Ah, young love. Who was he to dampen the flames?
"Well," Lilia began, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he leaned towards Malleus, "this is a grand opportunity, why don't you..." Lilia began to whisper conspiratorially into Malleus' ears, whose glare slowly melted away into a look of contemplation...
Taglist: @justreadings, @justgiulia @yuistan @1arminsimp
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#malleus draconia#twst malleus#malleus x y/n#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia x y/n#twst x reader#twst x y/n#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fic
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The Escape - Part 42 - FIN
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34 - Part 35 - Part 36 - Part 37 - Part 38 - Part 39 - Part 40 - Part 41
Warning: Buggy x fem reader, not proof-read - I am not so happy with the last chapters of this story, but I will still share it with you guys, since you all have kept on reading until now. Thanks. <3
That is the final part, thank you all for reading and sticking around - you are all amazing!
As you stand by the ship's railing, gazing out at the vast expanse of the open sea, a familiar presence interrupts your solitude. Cabaji, holding a glass of wine, joins you, extending a toast with a forgiving smile.
"So, he took on the Straw Hats all by himself?" Cabaji inquires, a hint of amusement and disbelief tinting his voice.
"Absolutely!" you respond, affirming the tale with a smile. You recognize Cabaji as Buggy's trusted right-hand man, probably aware of all the happenings on the ship and beyond.
"I'm glad you're back, Y/n. After Crocodile took you, our Captain was a shadow of his former self. He tried to act nonchalant, as if he had struck a perfect deal, but we all knew the truth. He was suffering from your absence," Cabaji confides, his words laced with genuine concern.
You fall silent, taking a sip of your wine, contemplating Cabaji's admission. The weight of trust and the challenges it poses hang heavy in the air.
"It's difficult to regain trust once it's been broken," you finally respond, your gaze meeting Cabaji's eyes, acknowledging the shared understanding.
"It is indeed," Cabaji agrees, his expression mirroring your sentiment. "And Captain Buggy will likely dedicate the rest of his pirate life to earning back your trust. And probably even try to find the One Piece just for you..”
A mixture of emotions swirl within you—apprehension, hope, and the lingering pain of past betrayals. Yet, as you stand there, the sea breeze caressing your face, you feel just relief. You had part of your life under control again. You would not let go of this now.
The two of you stand there, united in your understanding, silently sharing the weight of the journey that lies ahead. The open sea stretches out before you as you silently nip on your wine.
Back at the festivities, music fills the air, carried by the skilled hands and nimble fingers of crew members who have mastered a variety of instruments. The rhythmic melodies entice even the most reserved to sway and dance, their steps guided by the infectious energy of the moment.
As the night progresses, the ship becomes a haven of joy and camaraderie, a sanctuary where burdens are momentarily set aside. Laughter and song intertwine, creating a symphony of celebration that resonates deep within the hearts of those in attendance.
As the night sky blankets the ship in a comforting darkness, Buggy approaches you, taking your hand and sets aside his own and your glass of wine. “Follow me..!”, he whispers and then leads you to a secluded corner, away from prying eyes and the lively festivities that continue to resonate throughout the vessel. Here, in the hushed embrace of solitude, he gently pushes you against the wall of the ship.
The air is heavy with anticipation as Buggy's hand delicately grazes yours, his touch sending a shiver of warmth down your spine. His gaze, filled with a mix of adoration and vulnerability, seeks solace in the depths of your eyes.
With a tender yet nervous smile, Buggy takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His voice, barely above a whisper, carries a weight of sincerity as he speaks:
"Y/n, I can't deny the depth of my feelings for you," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of longing and vulnerability. "Every moment we spent apart made me realize just how much you mean to me. You are the anchor that keeps me grounded amidst the chaos of the pirate's life."
You smile: “I hope I am not the kind of anchor that drags you down…”
He laughs gently and shakes his head.
“No, never..”
A gentle breeze rustles through the sails above, intertwining with the beating of your hearts. The world around you seems to fade into insignificance as Buggy's words resonate in the stillness of the night.
"I've made mistakes in the past, hurt you in ways I can never undo," Buggy continues, his voice tinged with remorse. "But I want you to know that I am committed to changing, to becoming the partner you deserve. Loving you is not a burden or a game to me. It is a privilege, an honor that I cherish with every fiber of my being."
His words hang in the air, suspended between you like a fragile bridge. Yet, there is an undeniable sincerity, a raw vulnerability that emanates from Buggy's every word and gesture. This is the first time he has spoken to you like this. You don't even blame the alcohol tonight. You realize it is simply because he had lost you once and was afraid of never being able to meet you again.
And then, with a trembling yet determined resolve, Buggy leans in, closing the remaining space between you. The world around you fades into obscurity as his lips meet yours, a tender and passionate kiss that speaks volumes of his love and devotion.
In that stolen moment, time stands still, encapsulating the depth of your connection. The weight of his words and the tenderness of his touch affirm the sincerity of his confession. He hasn't been this gentle with you before. You enjoy every second of this new, kind Captain Buggy.
“So, shall we go to my cabin now and continue with what we had to interrupt earlier? I think no one will notice now when we are gone…”
As the whispered invitation lingers in the air, Buggy's eyes meet yours, a hint of desire flickering within them. The playful banter between you continues, charged with a mix of anticipation and mutual consent.
A mischievous smile dances upon your lips as you respond, teasingly pushing yourself against his chest. "Take me, but this time it's on my terms. No more decisions against my will," you whisper, the words filled with playful defiance.
Buggy's expression softens, a glimmer of understanding shining in his eyes. "Whatever you wish for," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of reverence.
In a sudden flourish of movement, Buggy detaches his arms, placing them strategically under your knees and behind your back. With a gentle push, he guides you to fall into his waiting embrace, capturing you securely against his chest. Laughter bubbles forth from your lips, knowing full well that he would never allow you to stumble or falter.
As Buggy reattaches his arms, he holds you close, swiftly carrying you towards his cabin. The ship's corridors become a blur as you surrender to the exhilaration of the moment, the rhythm of his steps in perfect synchrony with the pounding of your hearts.
At the threshold of his cabin, Buggy pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turns to face you, a mixture of vulnerability and strength in his gaze. "Last chance to turn back, to live a different life," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.
You meet his gaze, your eyes filled with a newfound sense of liberation and determination.
"No, Buggy. Today is the first time I truly feel free.”
#one piece#buggytheclown#buggy the clown x reader#one piece buggy#buggy x reader#buggy x you#long fanfic#long reads#nanowrimo 2023
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Who would you consider the most GNC character in Crimson Peak?
Interesting question!
Aesthetically none of them are, really. Thomas and Lucille are outdated in their wardrobes, as Edith notices, but they're right on target for their expected gender presentations. Edith, too- the suit she wears to her publisher's office may have menswear inspiration, but it's a style that was quite mainstream and popular for women in the era she's portraying (c. 1895- 6 years before the movie is actually set, but we'll let it slide because the costumes are so gorgeous).
Now, if you get into gender roles, everything is on its head. One thing I believe Del Toro did intentionally was playing with gendered archetypes in Gothic stories. Thomas takes on the "femme fatale" role, seducing the hero(ine) into a trap before ultimately regretting his actions too late and trying to make it right. And he's been occupying a conventionally feminine space in his own life since childhood, too, with his sister protecting and quite literally saving him since they were children. His sole contribution to the murders is also unusual for a male character: poison, normally considered a "feminine" weapon. All the brutality and direct violence is Lucille's doing.
Speaking of Lucille, she's all over the place re: gendered behavior. On the one hand, taking on the protector role for Thomas is definitely outside the norm for Gothic female leads. On the other, by the standards of her time, she slots perfectly into the Angel In the House archetype: a woman who acts as an emotional rock for her man, has no ambitions outside the home, controls the domestic sphere absolutely, and gives of herself endlessly for others. Self-sacrifice was a much-lauded "feminine virtue" in the Victorian era, and I think that's an important lens through which to view Lucille's actions, in terms of gender roles. There are layers here- as I said, she takes on the more active "masculine" role in her relationship with Thomas, but at a deeper and more historically-informed level, she's a dark mirror of a Proper Victorian Lady. For Gothic literature, she breaks gender roles; for the context of her era, less so.
(Even her hobbies are feminine-coded for the time period: natural sciences like lepidopterology were considered appropriate for a lady, if she had no intent towards a career; reading and playing the piano and writing poetry doubly so.)
Edith stands on the uncertain ground of the New Woman, a lady of the 1880s-1900s who broke with conventional gender roles in some ways while upholding them in others. The New Woman was usually feminine in appearance, but she worked outside the home, had sociopolitical opinions and publicly voiced them, and embraced "daring" activities like riding bicycles or smoking (Edith does neither, but one unused costume sketch featured her in cycling bloomers standing next to a bike). Media of the day lauded and ridiculed women like this by turns. And Edith very much lives the contradictions. She's attempting to publish a novel, but she acts as her widowed father's hostess- normal for an unmarried adult daughter back then -and shows evidence of expecting to take on a domestic role at Allerdale Hall once she marries. She is described by her character bio as being a suffragist, but hating politics in general.
In the story, she takes on a role conventionally filled by a man for all her nightgown and candelabra are iconically Gothic Heroine: unraveling the mystery, saving one male "damsel in distress," and violently taking down the final villain standing. So she's sort of there in the middle, in a lot of ways.
(Alan, of course, is just very unhappy to be here. And pretty much Clever, Dashing Victwardian Hero Classic, in the wrong story.)
tl;dr- In terms of presentation, none of them. In terms of behavior and interpersonal roles...probably Thomas. Poor little meow meow, weak-willed and always in need of saving. He's a fainting amoral damsel, Your Honor, and we love him for it.
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Transcending Teachers:
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
{ @consciousnessbaddie and I came up with this revolutionary idea for a post together. We both wanted to share our own perspectives. }
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I want to say that the goal of everyone here should be to transcend above all teachers and gurus and evolve on your own journey of true self-realization.
We, along with everything else, are all completely one and united as consciousness. Why are you placing the teachings from other teachers and gurus upon a pedestal above you? Everyone here is meant to evolve and transcend as conscious creators.
We all discovered the law of consciousness from the source of Neville Goddard after he learned of his power from his mentor Abdullah.
I have seen too many people in this community who have Neville Goddard held on a high pedestal, and he is treated as if he is the all-knowing God who knows all the answers to everything.
Why are you choosing to worship Neville when his only role to play out was to help you awaken to your very own power? Realize that he came into your life and lead you to the law of consciousness because you were ready to discover your true self and awaken to your power.
Neville started out with a lot of limiting beliefs in his own journey, and he evolved out of that state of mind after experiencing the promise. His beliefs then shifted, and he drastically evolved in his teachings after his awakening from the promise.
Throughout all of his teachings, Neville only intended for you to realize that you truly are the God of your own reality, so you could simply evolve on your spiritual journey, transform your mindset, and become the master of your own experiences as the operant power.
You and you alone are the master of your own reality. Not Neville, or any other teacher of guru. This journey of your spiritual awakening to your power is entirely all about you and nobody else.
Be your own teacher and master of your reality. Dare to embrace your own power as the creator of your reality with an attitude of self-confidence from knowing who you truly are and the omnipotent power you embody. Choose to live by faith in yourself as the one and only master because at the end of the night, you are the only one who holds the power to alter your whole entire reality into whatever you desire to experience.
My main objective here is to help everyone realize who the hell they are and the infinite, omnipotent power of your entire true nature as awareness. The end goal here is for you to completely transcend all teachers and gurus and become the master of your own destiny. You are the only one who is in complete control of every little aspect of your reality.
Embrace the power you already have within you with confidence in yourself and choose to take control of your own experiences.
You are the same source of infinite awareness that manifested our human forms and this whole entire glorious universe. Your unlimited power has never ever been a damn joke. Do you realize this?
You embody true infinite power at your deepest core. Awake from the dream and realize that infinite power is what you truly are.
Why the hell are you giving your power away to other teachers, gurus, or manifestation mentors? This journey is quite simply all about you, not them.
Speaking of turning to others, throughout your spiritual awakening, you can absolutely be sure to find yourself in everyone around you since we are all one awareness. The one and only purpose of all these wise teachers and gurus that you repeatedly give your power away to is to help you awaken from the deep slumber of the lies you have been fed your whole entire life and realize your very own innate power as the master of your reality.
Everybody's journey of self-discovery and mastering your true magnificent power is completely different from the other. Everyone is on their own path.
You should never have any teacher, guru, or manifestation mentor on a pedestal above you because that simply means to give your own power away to those who have already their spiritual awakening. Now, it's your turn to completely empower yourself and step into the spotlight in order to transform yourself into the confident manifesting master that you were born to be.
You are much more capable of absolute greatness than you could ever possibly realize. The human mind cannot even fathom how magnificent and infinite you truly are as awareness.
You are the absolute embodiment of magnificent, limitless power. *You are power.*
All these teachers and gurus embody the same innate power as you do. The only difference is your false perception of yourself and your abilities from the mindset of victimhood. That's where your self-concept comes to play in. That's why you doubt yourself and your own power.
{Absolutely no more victim mentality is allowed when you discover how powerful and incredible you are as consciousness.}
Take all these teachers, gurus, and manifestation mentors down from the pedestal and revalue yourself and your own abilities as an omnipotent creator. March to the beat of your own drum and take what resonates with you. Be your own master.
There is absolutely no flicker of any power outside of your true nature as awareness. All is shaped by consciousness.
We are all the ultimate creators and masters of our own realities having different experiences, and so we are on our own path of learning how to master our lives. We are now experiencing our own versions of our spiritual awakening at the same time.
Nobody else can tell you how to experience your own journey of spiritual awakening or what path you are to be taking. This is all for you to figure out for yourself, and you are more than capable.
Trust your yourself, trust your judgment, and take your own hand as you walk your path. This is a such beautiful, individualized journey of awakening and self-realization. Your spiritual awakening is meant to free you from the chains and empower you as the creator of your own reality.
You are absolutely limitless and all-powerful. Be confident in yourself and realize that you can experience absolutely anything that you desire. Absolutely nothing is off-limits for you as the one and only operant power.
Transform yourselves and dare to have faith in your own abilities. You will simply be amazed at what you are truly capable of, and that is only the beginning of a beautiful awakening. You are the God of your own reality. Do you hear me? You are infinite, omnipotent, and all-powerful. Evolve from your favorite teachers and gurus and rise above what you already know.
Be your own teacher. Be your own guru. Be your own master and take charge of your own experiences as the operant power.
This journey is simply about you: not Neville, not your favorite blogger, not your favorite teacher, not your favorite guru - this is all about you.
Allow yourself to blossom and flourish.
Evolve and transcend.
#loassumption#law of assumption#manifesting#manifestation#law of manifestation#neville goddard#nondualism#nonduality
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I’m going to vent some more about my ex because it’s good therapy lol
Feel free to keep scrolling.
Lol so remember my terrible abusive ex I broke up with last month that I vented on here about? Two years ago I made a reddit post on AITH because we got into this argument about eating thanksgiving at each others families houses and how he would get mad at me when I wouldn't eat a huge meal at his family's house but then he didn't eat at my families house (Which is honestly such a shame because my family's food is gas) and I also make some of the food at our thanksgiving so by the time I would get there to eat I wouldn't be hungry because I had just been guilted into eating a full plate an hour before.
I deleted the post because it blew up like crazy and everyone was calling him controlling and abusive and I was thinking "that seems a little much for a thanksgiving argument" I was getting a bunch of DMs of people telling me I needed to dump him and that if I needed help I could go to a clinic and I was just like "Tf are these people talking about!? This was just an argument about thanksgiving food…" I just think it's funny the answers were right there in front of me of thousands of strangers telling me I was in an abusive relationship and I ignored it. You truly don't know what it's like to be in a relationship like that until you're in one. You will convince yourself everything is fine and that everyone else is crazy for thinking that he's crazy. Just look at some of these comments lol
this is just a few of them. I remembered this post and decided to go back and re-read the comments after recognizing that he was abusive. I remember defending him so hard in my DMs being like “no you don’t understand you got him all wrong” turns out they had him all right lol and I was the delusional one. I’ve been doing along of self reflection and what not lately I’ve been trying to ever who I was before we got together because I feel like I was a different person. Less of a people pleaser, less emotional, less worried about what others think of me. I’m having to re-write my brain chemistry I feel. I still have to stop myself because I will ask myself “does ‘ex’ like when I do this?” And I have to remind myself it doesn’t matter what he likes anymore.
When we lived together he would insist i did all the cooking which is fine because I’m good at cooking. But the thing is I can actually only cook Italian American food, the reason for that is because it’s my favorite food and it’s all I ever want to eat. So it’s the only thing I make that’s any good. Because you know… it’s what i like so it’s what I make. Well about 2 years into our relationship he decides he’s going on a no carb diet. Which was an issue because I am on an all carb diet lol… I made food as normal for awhile and then one day he just went absolutely ballistic because he said I was abusing him because I wasn’t respecting his diet because I kept making pasta, which I wasn’t making pasta every day obviously… I didn’t make Italian every day but at least 2 times a week. but on this particular day I had made some kind of pasta but I had made him zucchini noodles, I even went out and bought a little thing to shred them with that day. It was probaly chicken parm because I eat that at least once a week. I once went three weeks with eating chicken parm every day and it was heaven . But apparently he didn’t like them and instead of being rational and just saying he didn’t like them he decided to have a toddler level fit because he didn’t what what I made. I was just like “okay then don’t eat it l…” he proceeded to not speak to me for three days and he even shoulder checked me in the hall way when he walked past me and it had me seeing red. So ever since then when I would make pasta I would make him a separate dinner which was so annoying. Because like he’s a grown fucking man… I shouldn’t have to make him a separate dinner it’s not my fault he decided to go on a no carb diet for no reason probably just to try and get me to stop making pasta which he never really liked (this was huge red flag and I should have known it would never work) he should have to deal with that himself I’m not his mom or his wife so i shouldn’t have just been like “okay learn how to cook then man child” but I’m too nice of a person and the guilt would have made me lose sleep. Because he would have just eaten cheese and lunch meat like a dumb ass because if I didn’t cook for him that’s what he would eat because he was an ACTUAL man child and couldn’t cook anything but scrambled eggs even then he wouldn’t use grease or butter so they would just fuse with the pan and I had to scrub it off because he would just put it in the dishwasher as if that was going to do anything.
One time I had made like a vegan butternut squash soup because he likes butternut squash, I don’t I think it’s gnarly. I even whipped out an emulsion blender for it, real fancy like. Well he decided he wanted chicken with it for some unknown reason even though HE requested it for dinner so he knew no meat was involved. so he decided to throw a frozen chicken tender into a pan and he cooked it until it was trawled and that shit was like not even close to cooked and he was going to eat it so I had to stop eating, get up and recook his chicken because he would have given himself food poisoning. I didn’t even get so much of a thank you for possible saving his stupid life and he just ate it and left the pan with burnt bits for me to scrub because he again didn’t oil the pan so the chicken stuck to it and burnt onto the pan.
You may read this and think “omg how do you not realize this is abuse” well that’s because that was just how I lived for 5 years. It had gotten normal I understood how he was and he always told me “this is just how I am” so I figured “who would I be to change him if that’s his personality?” Now I do truly believe that is his real personality and he’ll never change. Mostly because when we broke up he straight told me “this is how I am I’m not changing for you or anyone” like it was something to be proud of. He truly believes the break up is something that can be reversed. I’m not sure if he even thinks we’re still broken up if that makes sense. He texted me as asked me if I wanted to go out to diner and I was like “lol no?” And he was like “I miss you though don’t you miss me?” And I was like “lol…no?” Like what is there to miss my guy? Like of course you miss me I did everything for you. I knew the second he realized “oh shit now I have to clean and cook?” he would want me back. I called it. I knew it was coming. It was a lot sooner than I expected tbh though…
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we have so little about toges history, I’m wondering what your thoughts are about his life before joining the school?
so sorry for the delay, i just finished finals and almost passed away from the stress ! now walk with me anon, hold my hand and walk with me into the sunset where we can gaze lovingly at the amount of nonsense i will be releasing into this unsuspecting world. please understand i have to preface this by saying that 85% of what will be said here is absolutely based on my own interpretation and headcanons.
trigger warnings: referenced suicide, child abuse, self-mutilation (character deafens themself but not explicitly described), neglect, suicidal tendencies, and basically canon typical violence
that makes it sound a lot worse than it is i promise lol
so first ! let’s establish everything we know canonically that may have some indicator to his childhood
• his first name means “thorn”
• he’s only been speaking in onigiri ingredients since before he could remember.
• the inumaki clan canonically would communicate with their hearts, but supposedly toge disrupted a streak of trying to rid the technique from their clan
• according to the light novel, the inumaki clan is well-known and vaunted, enough where toge is easy to track down and prepare against.
• he was the only one within the first years to be sent on missions alone, is considered the second best student behind yuuta (at the time, maki probably passed him by now), has extremely high athletic ability, and his cursed speech eventually tears his throat apart
• kamo noritoshi is the first to bring up protecting yourself from cursed speech and honestly brought up toge a lot during the school games, i thought toge needed more dynamics with other characters so um yes
• he unintentionally cursed others in his youth, and was adamant that nobara avoid killing
with that being said, likely the from the moment of his birth, toge was already cursing the people around him.
• while cursed speech focuses on words and intentions, i headcanon that sounds and reactions can have a less controlled impact. so when he cries for the first time, the fear and distress in his voice forced his mother into a trance of holding and rocking him until, hours later it stops. it scares his parents, his family, only heightened by the sight of the snake and fangs adorning his face.
• he’s too young to know what he’s doing, every time he cries it’s like a direct command to his mother. every time she snaps out of the trance, she’s afraid and she’s angry and she resents him. his father, not wanting to take the blame of a cursed child, refuses his existence. the members of his clan whisper in the hallways, their eyes hateful and full of blame. after all, it had been so long since a cursed child was born, the jujutsu society had nearly accepted them again in their placid role of acting as windows. his very existence threatened decades of groveling and submissive behavior, he was a threat, like a thorn that burrows until you bleed.
• that’s how his aunt found his mother, deafening herself over his crying form. she inadvertently found his weakness, disabling herself forever just so she wouldn’t fall victim to his curse again. some of the clan would say it was too late, being brainwashed over and over again had left it’s toll. she wanders like a ghost in the hallway. somehow it was always his fault, even when he didn’t have a voice to he heard. later, when they find her unmoving in her room, he’s blamed for that too. he believes them, muffles his cries because even to the people who beat him, he fears cursing them.
• it was always standard practice for the cursed members of his family to speak in safe words. it used to be done so with care, with intention to protect, a willingness to find a language of mutual understanding and respect. but his clan didn’t want him to learn a single syllable, afraid of what he would do, afraid of what he would learn to say. he was never allowed outside unless under direct supervision. never saw a child his age, never allowed to watch anything, never allowed to ask questions.
• in the end, it’s a family servant that takes the responsibility. indifferent to his existence, but making a joke out of it nonetheless. it started because the servant thought it would be funny if he was limited only to muttering “mentaiko,” when he was upset and snowballed from there. long before he ever knew the word for mother or father, he was slurring onigiri ingredients with a raspy, underdeveloped voice with servants who laughed, his clan looked on in disdain, and he never could catch his mother or father’s eye.
• it isn’t long before a member of the clan comes forward to the higher ups, ratting out his existence as if it were a dirty secret to share. a symbol of their loyalty to showcase the cursed child, eagerly awaiting their demands for execution. it wasn’t as if anyone would object.
• against their expectations, the higher ups did not call for his head, instead they called for his voice. as if he were a dangerous weapon laying in wait, they confiscated him from his family who gave him up with utmost eagerness.
• the higher ups, unlike his family, were sorcerers of a somewhat high caliber who knew how to protect themselves against him. even so, they insisted on a binding vow that had become a staple mark of the cursed users in his family. for every command he used, the stronger it was, the stronger the backlash would be. and then, only then, did they teach him to use his cursed speech. he learned the taste of blood as intimately as he knew to fear his own voice. over and over again, he tore his voice apart under their command. he hurts the people he’s against, always falling short of control and resenting himself for it. he accidentally kills one who attacks him without mercy, he afraid, so afraid, and he can’t control it. when it’s over, he hates and burns and bleeds and cries. he’s a child and he hates his voice, he’s a child and all he knows is that he brings nothing but suffering to the people around him. he’s a cursed child, and no one has ever let him forget it.
• it comes to a head when the kamo clan head meets with the higher ups, and leaves the heir to wait. kamo noritoshi has been taken from his mother, and has already spent day after day absorbing what they say in the hopes that he’ll see her again. inumaki toge is a not so subtle secret among the clan heads, and they poison him against the other. whispers of his existence as an outlaw, a danger to them, kept only until his usefulness bleeds out in a future mission.
• kamo sees him hiding in the garden and the rage of losing his mother, the desperation to please his clan, the inability to understand his own emotions lashes out in his tongue. he says his own father’s words, nothing organic yet with all the misplaced rage. he pushes and when there is no response, he wants to hurt him and calls for his own technique. it’s a split second, before he hears the others voice for the first time, disuse and cracked like a corner animal, he cries, ‘stay back!’
• kamo is sent flying, his head hits a tree, and everything is dark.
• the backlash is immense, the kamo clan calls for his head. the higher ups are furious, even as he grips his own bloodied throat. they wanted a weapon, but a weapon that only obeyed the movement of its master. he huddles in a dark room, despite the lack of schooling, he knows what an execution is. he knows what it means for him far better than the schooling other children would receive.
• the interaction frightens kamo, who has never experienced the effects of cursed speech. already in contact with megumi and gojo (as mentioned in the fun facts), he requests that gojo teach him how to protect himself from it.
• surprisingly, that’s what changes everything for toge. the fear of the kamo heir brings forth the wrath of gojo, though not in the way anyone expected. he saves him, much like the way he saved the sorcerers before him. much to toge’s clan displeasure, gojo returns him with a promise to visit every week. it’s a promise as much as a threat to his family.
• they place him in a separate building and reluctantly, under the pressure of gojo do they employ a tutor. he’s behind, but he catches up quickly, thriving in his newfound freedom. he learns to take care of himself, and quickly takes a liking to cooking. on the colder nights, especially when the halls feel too empty, he cooks himself a meal and stares outside, trying to pretend like the silence is a friend instead of a suffocating reminder. he’s a ghost in his clan, resented and ignored, but gojo’s protection is a security blanket.
• he’s too dangerous to ever be in normal school, something even gojo can’t change. but he finds ways to give him peers nonetheless. the kamo heir refuses to be near him again, but he meets megumi a few times in his youth. strangely enough, it is his deadpan, uncaring attitude that brings out the nurturing nature he never knew he had. in his adolescent years, they expose him to panda, who against everyone’s expectation, encourages a mischievous side. gojo was no help in that aspect, who took too much pride in making him smile for the first time with
• he meets maki the summer before their expected first year when she walks out of her family, a spitfire who hides behind iron clad walls and insists she needs no one. but he knows what it feels like to be entirely alone, and something told him that this was her first time truly by herself. they stay in the dorms, despite months to go. panda may have had yaga, but they had no where else to go.
• he can tell quickly she never lived on her own, she eats junk food and stays awake at odd hours, restless in her sleep. he makes extra food initially as a peace offering, and offers her a plate. she turns it down every time but he never stops trying.
• it’s only after he’s sent on a mission that almost went wrong. the higher ups never liked that he escaped, so the moment he became a student, he was sent on missions that left him battered and bleeding. he almost dies but he forgets to be afraid, it’s muted acceptance only undertaken by waking up under shoko’s care. there’s a plate of onigiri on his bedside, and he remembers how the servants used to mock him. maki is half waiting at the door, she sits at his bedside and eats her misshapen work alongside him and it’s enough.
• they’re inseparable after that, and when panda joins them, it feels like everything he ever wanted as a child. quiet nights are disrupted by panda stumbling into his room to watch youtube, lonely mornings broken by maki dragging him onto the field, meals shared between friends who look at him as if he’s worth more than the blood soaked on his hands. the missions don’t stop, his throat is a scarred and jumbled mess. but he has a home now, and that’s enough.
• then yuuta walks through the door, and it’s like seeing the scared little boy toge once was. except, yuuta is afraid of him. just like his family, just like the kamo heir, just like the people he never even met in their society. he doesn’t want to scare him, but he also doesn’t want to leave him alone. part of him wonders if that’s his true curse, to always chase others away, to always upset the balance with his mere existence.
• the first time yuuta calls him kind, an odd feeling of distress suffocates, makes him feel like a liar. but the fear has finally the left the others eyes, not looking at him like a monster or a weapon or an enemy, but someone to admire. he craves it so much it scares him and when their hands linger on a high-five, he realizes how much he doesn’t want to let go.
• when gojo asks him to die for yuuta, the idea of curses and hierarchy never even cross his mind. he was born to die, a binding vow wrapped like a snake around his throat. he’s waited his entire life for it, but dying for yuuta? it ignites a passion he never thought he’d have. so when he sends getou flying, not unlike how the kamo heir did that day years ago, he doesn’t feel self-hatred or fear. instead, there is satisfaction. not just for yuuta, but for maki, for panda. he’d die for them, again and again, because it’s only because of them that he’s still alive.
• he bites back tears when yuuta has to leave, they’re alike in so many ways except for one. when yuuta loves, it’s with bloody nails dragging on the ground in his refusal to leave, gritted teeth and desperation. but when toge loves, it’s at distance, always waiting for it to slip away, always too afraid to chase anything that didn’t end in him bleeding. but he craves, and he wants, and everyday he has to fight not to give chase. he bites his tongue and let’s him go, trying not to let him know how much it burns. but yuuta knows, somehow he always knows despite the few months they’ve had each other.
• he learns to sign for him, sheepish movements still unpracticed but with so much care behind a sheepish grin. he signs every word he says, every word he reads, even along to the videos they watch. he loves yuuta and it scares him, it reminds him of the little boy muffling his cries as his throat shreds to pieces. it scares him because even in his self-hatred, he doesn’t doubt that yuuta would take him blood-soaked and all. that he would somehow see the bloodshed as necessary, the pain that came with his existence as a worthy price instead of an inherent flaw.
• but none of it matters when yuuta board the plane. he knows unspoken words, the only kind he’s ever had. but somehow yuuta hears all of them. they don’t say what they mean, unspoken promises left for the day he comes back. so toge does what he’s done since the day the snake and fangs forever tainted his existence. he stands back and he watches from the window, waiting. but this time, there isn’t silence, there is home.
anyway, i always ramble so much about them, half of it probably doesn’t make sense but. thank you for the ask !! i have so many feelings, if gege won’t give him a backstory, i will. please feel free to send me more questions !! it shouldn’t take so long but jc can i talk a lot 🧍♀️
#inumaki toge#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#yuuta okkotsu#inuokko#ottoge#jjk panda#maki zenin#megumi fushiguro#itadori yuuji#inumaki toge backstory
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Speaking of frisk how do you think their life was like before and how does them being the anomaly look from a in universe stand point did they just wake up with the power to control time are they being controlled by the player are they some kind of vessel similar to deltarune's
ohohooh, this is a good one. let's see:
hmm well, if we consider deltarune theorizing, i feel like the "in the grand scheme of things, [suzy] might be the reason you came here in the first place" + the deltarune legend ending by "banishing the angel (ie: us, probably)'s heaven + asriel explicitly raising the question of WHY frisk climbed the mountain, i have a theory that whatever happens at the end of deltarune will result in or at least explain how the events of undertale came to be. specifically, our involvement in the story
I don't think frisk is a simple vessel. nor do i think they are their own person in the sense that kris is. because on one hand we lack the player/PC conflict that we have in deltarune since what frisk does DURING the gameplay perfectly reflects our own decisions. if we do a pacifist, so does frisk. if we do a neutral so does frisk. if we kill they kill, if we spare they spare etc.
at the same time, however, we can't say that frisk is a pure self insert. while it's true that their actions and ours match, well, 1) them not being the fallen human we named at the start is basically the main plot twist of the game, 2) the fallen child being the narrator + the name on the SAVE file + flowey's speech to convince us not to reset all seem to imply that we play AS chara within the game (as in, that is our role in the story), and 3) the separation between player and frisk post pacifist is necessary for the game to pose the moral dilemma about resetting/using the SAVE power for the good of the characters,and not our entertainment.
as you can see, it's a very messy situation! the metatextual plot of undertale is nowhere near as clear and neat as the one in deltarune. the game plays in blurring the lines between YOU and the game, especially with the two PCs (frisk and "chara"/the fallen human)
as a consequence, seeing it from an in-univeree perspective gets tricky, because you can't remove our contribution to the story entirely (that would do a disservice to both the characters and the story undertale tells), but integrating it diagetically is really fucking hard.
overall, an interpretation i personally like to use for frisk's (and the other fallen humans)'s SAVE powers is this:
it's a byproduct of determination
they are unaware of it during their lives on the surface (no save file at the beginning of the game)
they only become capable of SAVEing once they fall in the underground, where they are the most determined being around
this would be a result of the barrier's magic isolating the underground from the rest of the world = other humans who also have determination
consequently, once returned to the surface, the SAVE power becomes unavailable once again. too many determined beings in the world.
this is why asriel and chara fell to the humans' attack.
does this mean time passed differently between the underground and the surface while the barrier was up? could be! that sounds fun.
us still being able to reset after breaking the barrier is explained through us, players, since by being real humans, not characters in the story, our determination overshadows everything else, barrier or no barrier.
absolutely nothing about this was secretly planned by toby fox, i am under no illusion of that fact. this is simply how i like to explain a necessary game mechanic that, while included within the story, ended up creating some complications in the worldbuilding.
hope this answers your question!
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Are the Jedi a cult?
So my wife and I were talking about Star Wars while eating dinner, and we landed on the topic of the Jedi. I mentioned my absolute hatred of the Jedi approach to child-raising. Like, oh, you want your group members to deny attachments? I know, give them all disorganized and disrupted attachments to primary caregivers!
And then a THOUGHT hit me: are the Jedi a cult? Specifically, to what degree do their beliefs and actions resonate with Steven Hassan’s BITE Model of Authoritarian Control? I pulled it up and my wife immediately said, “Wow, that would do NUMBERS on Tumblr. Please help prove my wife right because she’s awesome.
For the unaware, BITE is an acronym that stands for Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotion. It refers to four different types of control that organizations can have over their members. The higher a given organization scores, the more cult-like that organization is likely to be. (Disclaimer: this post is exclusively for shitposting reasons and I am extremely not a mental health or sociology expert.)
Behavior Control
Regulate individual’s physical reality - unclear?
Dictate where, how, and with whom the member lives and associates or isolates - literally yes that’s the whole thing that PROMPTED this post
When, how and with whom the member has sex - yep, celibacy rules!
Control types of clothing and hairstyles - yes, unless you’re mace windu
Regulate diet – food and drink, hunger and/or fasting - no, not that i know of
Manipulation and deprivation of sleep - nope
Financial exploitation, manipulation or dependence - i am absolutely not going to research the star wars economy for this shitpost. we’re leaving it at “unclear.”
Restrict leisure, entertainment, vacation time - lol do the jedi get vacation? like, at all?
Major time spent with group indoctrination and rituals and/or self indoctrination including the Internet - can you imagine if the jedi had twitter? god, anakin would be such a pain in the ass about it. anyway, this feels like what the jedi council is, so yes.
Permission required for major decisions - SPEAKING OF THE JEDI COUNCIL... also, according to my wife, “obi-wan consults with the jedi council more than raiden consults with the elder gods.” i don’t understand this reference, but i’m glad some of you will.
Rewards and punishments used to modify behaviors, both positive and negative - again, the jedi council!!! like, there’s the whole “well you’re not a master YET” nonsense and... this post might turn me into an anakin skywalker apologist
Discourage individualism, encourage group-think - this is literally what caused the council to collapse. no one had an original thought.
Impose rigid rules and regulations - oh my god SOOOOOO MANY.
Punish disobedience by beating, torture, burning, cutting, rape, or tattooing/branding - happily, a no on this one. holy shit.
Threaten harm to family and friends - technically, this is a “no,” but it’s specifically because you’re not supposed to have any of those, so i’m giving this a half point. also, see everything that happened with Shmi Skywalker.
Force individual to rape or be raped - again, no.
Encourage and engage in corporal punishment - we don’t see what goes on in the crèches, but since we don’t have evidence, this is a no.
Instill dependency and obedience - they LITERALLY have a master/padawan system where you can’t question your superior, like???
Kidnapping - hot take but i totally think this is what they do with some younglings. that said, this is just my hot take, so this is technically still a no.
Beating - again, no
Torture - no
Rape - no
Separation of Families - actually yes??? like, true, i don’t have proof that the kids are kidnapped, but they fully separate children from their families at extremely young ages!
Imprisonment - no
Murder - listen, we could be here all day debating whether all, most, many, some, few, or none of the jedi’s killings are justified. but like... they’re warrior monks, so i’ll give this one a pass.
Score: 11.5/25
Information Control
Deception:
a. Deliberately withhold information - i didn’t remember this one so i asked my wife and she immediately went “yeah, definitely”
b. Distort information to make it more acceptable - “What I told you is true... from a certain point of view” - Obi-Wan Kenobi (this is a yes)
c. Systematically lie to the cult member - DARTH FUCKING VADER had to tell Luke about his parentage! like! obi-wan! what the hell!
Minimize or discourage access to non-cult sources of information, including:
a. Internet, TV, radio, books, articles, newspapers, magazines, media - this probably gets a “no” on a technicality. how would we even measure this?
b. Critical information - nope
c. Former members - again, this is a technical “no,” but it’s only because i really don’t think there are any “former members.”
d. Keep members busy so they don’t have time to think and investigate - arguably yes, given how much they’re constantly running all over the galaxy. like, they’re definitely not the only law enforcement/army in the galaxy, so what gives?
e. Control through cell phone with texting, calls, internet tracking - huh, i wonder if those blue video things are tracked? do we have any confirmation of that? i’m pretty sure they have the capability to do so, so i’m giving this a half point.
Compartmentalize information into Outsider vs. Insider doctrines
a. Ensure that information is not freely accessible - again, no way to measure this, so no
b. Control information at different levels and missions within group - oh ABSOLUTELY. i’ll cut them a tiny bit of slack because they have to do this for like, legitimate national security interests sometimes, but they also do it for bullshit information control reasons.
c. Allow only leadership to decide who needs to know what and when - again, this is literally just the jedi council
Encourage spying on other members
a. Impose a buddy system to monitor and control member - hello again, master/padawan relationship!
b. Report deviant thoughts, feelings and actions to leadership - you have ONE bad dream about your secret wife dying in labor, and everyone’s on your case about it.
c. Ensure that individual behavior is monitored by group - yep
Extensive use of cult-generated information and propaganda, including:
a. Newsletters, magazines, journals, audiotapes, videotapes, YouTube, movies and other media - another no on a technicality. also, this gives me the horrifying mental image of Jedi YouTubers, so now you have to suffer with that.
b. Misquoting statements or using them out of context from non-cult sources - nah
Unethical use of confession
a. Information about sins used to disrupt and/or dissolve identity boundaries - oh, you’re sad because you miss your enslaved mother? well THAT’S just proof you could NEVER be a jedi!
b. Withholding forgiveness or absolution - do they even have a process for forgiveness or absolution? am i losing my mind or do we not see this? anyway, no.
c. Manipulation of memory, possible false memories - nope
Score: 9.5/19
Thought Control
Require members to internalize the group’s doctrine as truth
a. Adopting the group’s ‘map of reality’ as reality - this is just crèche training
b. Instill black and white thinking - jesus, CONSTANTLY. “once you go over to the dark side, forever will it dominate your destiny!”
c. Decide between good vs. evil - see above
d. Organize people into us vs. them (insiders vs. outsiders) - see above again
Change person’s name and identity - huh, this one’s actually a sith thing. bonus points for the villains actually doing the cult-y thing this time, i guess.
Use of loaded language and clichés which constrict knowledge, stop critical thoughts and reduce complexities into platitudinous buzz words - the fact that yoda’s advice to a terrified first-grader is “Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering” really says it all here.
Encourage only ‘good and proper’ thoughts - once again, see above.
Hypnotic techniques are used to alter mental states, undermine critical thinking and even to age regress the member - nope
Memories are manipulated and false memories are created - not that we see, no.
Teaching thought-stopping techniques which shut down reality testing by stopping negative thoughts and allowing only positive thoughts, including:
a. Denial, rationalization, justification, wishful thinking - those earlier yoda quotes are really pulling their weight in this section. goddamn.
b. Meditating - i have to assume meditation is a part of jedi training, because like... come on. of course it is. that said, i don’t know if it’s specifically used to stop negative thoughts, so we’ll give it a half point.
c. Chanting, Praying, Speaking in Tongues, Singing, or Humming - i put these all in one because they’re all religion-focused, but in a way that doesn’t map onto the jedi/star wars experience of religion. and the answer is no to all.
Rejection of rational analysis, critical thinking, constructive criticism - the jedi are so afraid of constructive criticism that anyone who tries gets hit with immediate professional consequences and social shaming
Forbid critical questions about leader, doctrine, or policy allowed - again, see above! it’s wild how many times i’ve said that here!
Labeling alternative belief systems as illegitimate, evil, or not useful - they literally call it the dark side. like, i’m not saying that Force choking or lighting is a good thing, but really, guys?
Instill new “map of reality” - eh, not really
Score: 10.5/16
Emotion Control
(upon seeing this i went “oh, i’m sure this will go GREAT.”)
Manipulate and narrow the range of feelings – some emotions and/or needs are deemed as evil, wrong or selfish - fear, anger, the need for a parental figure... yep! all demonized!
Teach emotion-stopping techniques to block feelings of homesickness, anger, doubt - yes again
Make the person feel that problems are always their own fault, never the leader’s or the group’s fault - your fear and grief about missing your mom are YOUR fault, anakin! it’s definitely not our fault that we took you away from your mom and left her to die!
Promote feelings of guilt or unworthiness, such as:
a. Identity guilt - eh, not really
b. You are not living up to your potential - oh absolutely yes. “you were supposed to bring balance to the force!!1!11!!!” like, i know it’s not said as a control tactic, but that’s a lot to put on a person! (side note: i was correct earlier; this post is totally turning me into an anakin skywalker apologist.)
c. Your family is deficient - i actually don’t think they do this, so like... hurray for the bare minimum.
d. Your past is suspect - they don’t explicitly say this, so even though i get the vibes, i have to give them a no.
e. Your affiliations are unwise - fuck off this LITERALLY sounds like a yoda quote! i don’t care if he didn’t actually say this, i’m counting it.
f. Your thoughts, feelings, actions are irrelevant or selfish - including your desire to grieve your mother, aunt, and uncle!
g. Social guilt - no relationships allowed!
f. Historical guilt - nope
Instill fear, such as fear of:
a. Thinking independently - yeah there’s no way the council allows that
b. The outside world - actually, no. they’re in pretty regular contact with the outside world, despite the fact that they ignore the increasing corruption of the galactic republic.
c. Enemies - hello dark [side] my old friend...
d. Losing one’s salvation - the only way the jedi could be worse is if there were some version of this. the only afterlife they have is being a blue ghost, which is rad as hell.
e. Leaving or being shunned by the group - technically, no, but see above - no one ever leaves this group.
f. Other’s disapproval - if mace windu looked at me with disappointment in his eyes i would DISSOLVE
g. Historical guilt - nope
Extremes of emotional highs and lows – love bombing and praise one moment and then declaring you are horrible sinner - qui-gon and yoda both do this to anakin and luke, respectively.
Ritualistic and sometimes public confession of sins - the jedi council is responsible for so many of these
Phobia indoctrination: inculcating irrational fears about leaving the group or questioning the leader’s authority
a. No happiness or fulfillment possible outside of the group - yep
b. Terrible consequences if you leave: hell, demon possession, incurable diseases, accidents, suicide, insanity, 10,000 reincarnations, etc. - no, but i also don’t think leaving the group is presented as an option? i know i keep giving half points, but it’s my high-effort shitpost and i’ll do it if i want to.
c. Shunning of those who leave; fear of being rejected by friends and family - see the above logic. hey look, the half-points evened out!
d. Never a legitimate reason to leave; those who leave are weak, undisciplined, unspiritual, worldly, brainwashed by family or counselor, or seduced by money, sex, or rock and roll - oh my god can you IMAGINE yoda complaining about former jedi being “seduced by money, sex, or rock and roll.” someone get frank oz on this, stat. that said, people who join the dark side are explicitly said to be “seduced” by it, so... maybe? half-points abound!
e. Threats of harm to ex-member and family - nope
Score: 14.5/25
Total Score: 46/85, or 54.12%. Honestly, that’s not quite as high as I was expecting, but that’s still like... concerningly high! like, if you join an organization and describe it as “just over half-cult,” that’s really bad! jedis! what are you doing!
#star wars#cult#bite model#jedi#anakin skywalker#is it true that tumblr only tracks your first 5 tags when putting your posts in the search results?#i guess i'll find out#i spent over 90 minutes on this#also if you are about to well ackshually me about my star wars opinions#consider: i do not care#all of my opinions are both sexy and correct thank you very much#a day in mah life
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