#he was RAPING AN ELEVEN YEAR OLD!
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So @hejeksbs saw that post about fandom olds freaking out about IWTV stuff being posted on the AO3, and said they’re new to fandom and fandom culture and don’t understand. So congrats, Hejek, you’re one of today’s lucky 10,000. This is going to be a basic primer, but I encourage others to chime in with details. (Also, thanks for reminding me I need an Interview exhibit in the museum. I had that written down somewhere.)
So if you go back to the 1990s and early 2000s—the pre-AO3 digital years—you’re going to see an official disclaimer on just about every fic. These basically said “I don’t own anything here, please don’t sue me.” Some were quoted elaborate.
These started because of Anne Rice.
See, Anne Rice was, how can I say this nicely…an asshole? The day she died there were literally people posting crab rave and “Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead” from The Wizard of Oz on Tumblr. Because before Harry Potter fanfiction was pretty frowned upon and you might get a C&D if you didn’t keep your head down properly, but Anne Rice.
ANNE RICE.
Anne Rice literally recruited her “loyal fans” to harass people who made fanworks. At least one person was doxxed to her workplace by rabid Ricers, and at the time fanfiction was taboo enough you could absolutely get fired for that. I was eleven and friends with someone who was 13 who’d just read Interview and drew this wonky I-am-a-kid-who-can’t-really-draw-yet-but-I-loved-this-SO-MUCH piece of fanart of Louis and Lestat, and she literally dipped off the internet because she got an extremely nasty “I’m suing you” threat from Rice. (Are you out there, Mercury000? It’s me, sailorsharon0722.)
Anne Rice did everything in her power to ensure there was no IWTV fandom at all. I’ve heard from people older than me that she used to host a “vampire’s ball” every year in New Orleans for her “loyal fans” but if you showed up and she felt your costume outshone her own, she’d make you leave. People didn’t dare so much as put “Lestat” and “fanfiction” in the same sentence.
And then, irony of ironies, when her reputation got so bad she was struggling to sell books, she…became a Christian and started writing Bible fanfiction to sell.
Yeah.
Over the years there were claims she’d changed her mind about fanfiction, but nobody ever had evidence to back this up. I even saw a dude on Quora claiming to be a close friend of hers saying we were all lying, and he got absolutely ratioed by fans going “I still have my C&D letter, you wanna fucking try again?”
Incidentally, I would like to point out that her attitude wasn’t uniform. It’s easy to say “that’s just how it was,” but Neil Gaiman has been around since the 1980s and has always appreciated fanfiction. Stephen King’s approach is “please tell me, to my face, that me explicitly writing about Cthulhu isn’t fanfiction” and otherwise pretty lassez-faire (he has no interest in knowing you’re writing fanfiction of his stuff, he just genuinely doesn’t care), and his first book was published in the early 1970s. Gene Roddenberry, creator of Star Trek, actually accepted submissions of fanfiction scripts DURING THE SHOW’S ORIGINAL RUN, at least according to popular lore. (@dduane, can you check me on this?) Mercedes Lackey—who’s 1980s-and-1990s fantasy royalty—has been asked on Quora about why she “changed her mind about fanfiction” and her response was “I never changed my mind, I just had to talk my publisher into accepting it. I’ve always been okay with it but I had to say no because of my contract.” Sure, Diana Galbaldon was out there comparing fanfiction to rape(????), but even among those who disapproved of fanfiction, Rice’s attitude and actions were extreme. And they persisted into the 2000s, too, with her egging on fans who harassed and sent death threats to a YouTube reviewer who didn’t like one of her books.
AO3 changed ALL of that.
AO3 said “here is our well-researched legal claim that fanfiction is legal, and if someone gives you shit about works you have posted on our website, our lawyers will represent you. You can post safely here. It’s okay. We got your back.”
Even so, the fear about Anne Rice continued. And can you blame people? This woman’s name held the same power in fannish conversations as “Voldemort.” (A moniker by which I’ve actually heard her called.) She all but destroyed the old guard, on purpose.
….and then a new generation of fans happened. A new generation that didn’t remember life before AO3, had never known anyone who literally had to move house to get away from Rice’s minions’ threats and harassment. I know we use “nature is healing” as a joke on this website, but really truly, that’s what happened here. She left charred tree trunks and bushes that were old-school fans and from their ashes tiny little 2010s-fans seedlings began to grow.
The thousand-odd fics you saw in those screenshots (which I feel I should clarify are from before the new show came out—a show that must have her turning in her grave, because she was absolutely adamant that all her vampires were STRAIGHT and if you thought otherwise you were DISGUSTING, and I hope she spins so hard her corpse combusts) are absolutely shocking to us older fans because it’s like staggering out of a nuclear wasteland and spotting a little garden with signs saying “free nuclear-illness medical services” and realizing it’s real. What the fuck, what the fuck, but also, holy shit y’all we’re so proud of you. YES. Keep going. Don’t let the witch get you down.
EDIT: I’ve been informed by someone in the notes that IT ACTUALLY GETS WORSE:
I’m not going to transcribe the whole thing because I’m on mobile and most of it is just bog-standard post notes, but what’s relevant is @theoriginalvelocipastor saying “OP forgot the part where she [Anne Rice] would take ideas from fanfiction.”
Like holy motherFUCKER this woman’s hypocrisy.
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I’ve recently seen some The Rocky Horror Picture Show discourse. And like people are questioning if Rocky Horror is transmisogynistic. Of course it does. Dr. Frank-N-Furter is intentionally a transmisogynistic villain. That’s the point.
It’s intended as ironic of course, as deliberate camp. The musical is intended as a parody of old sci-fi and horror movies, mixed with a camp drag aesthetic inspired by the contemporary glam rock movement. The mad scientist villains in the movies being parodied were often queer-coded, and vaguely effeminate.
So to parody that, Frank-n-Furter goes far beyond the queer-coding, and is outrageously effeminate and evil. He rapes people, kills them with an axe and serves them for dinner and force-fems them to take part in his climactic stage show. He is a Frankenstein parody, who literally makes an artificial man in order to fuck him (a joke about Frankenstein I’ve seen on tumblr). And does it all while wearing stockings, a bustier and heavy make-up. He is deliberately the ultimate evil man in a dress trope, referencing Psycho and all effeminate mad scientists in media.
That Frank-N-Furter isn’t explicitly a trans woman doesn’t matter. The musical deliberately blurs the line. The line “I’m just a sweet transvestite, from Transsexual, Transylvania” is like a perfect encapsulation of how horror movies treat transfemininity. “Men in dresses” (transvestites) trans women (transsexual) and a symbol of predatory horror movie villainy (Transylvania) are all conflated, making a pun of out how they all begin with “trans”.
Of course, it’s intended to be ironic. It’s a parody of queer-coded villainy in old horror movies by turning it up to eleven, so that you can’t take it seriously. The whole movie has this drag show camp aesthetic that it celebrates, and the supposed representatives of heteronormativity, Brad and Janet are turned in the end. Frank-N-Furter becomes a symbol of a hedonistic queer liberation “Give yourself over to absolute pleasure.. Don’t dream it, be it.”
This is the clear intent of Rocky Horror, and it’s how it became a “queer classic”. Does it work? I’ll admit that I enjoy the movie version. The glam rock aesthetic is fun, the songs are catchy, and they keep coming at a quick pace. A lot of it is admittedly that I love the old horror and sci-fi movies it’s parodying, so my cultural touchstones are similar. I’m the kind of person to get a thrill out of knowing that Frank-N-Furter at one point uses the exact same prop that Peter Cushing used in the second Hammer Frankenstein movie.
That is a different question however from how well it succeeds at subverting the transmisogynistic tropes it handles. Even in the most sympathetic possible account of the musical, it’s doing the equivalent of handling live grenades. Is it the creators tropes to subvert in the first place? Is it the fans?
Let’s talk about Rocky Horror’s creator, Richard O’Brien. He is certainly a weird and contradictory person, he identifies as a third gender and “70% male and 30% female“, and is using estrogen. So arguably he is a transfem enby and thus transmisogyny-affected. But he’s also a transmisogynist who doesn’t believe trans women are “real women”.( I would like to know what exact percentage of “female” as a transfem person turns you into a bad fake trans woman.)
Of course the important thing about O’Brien is that he is rich. He is in a vastly different class position than the majority of transfems. So while he may be taking estrogen and living as a third gender, he is simultaneously isolated by his own wealth from the effects of the transmisogyny he bolsters in the media (see Caitlyn Jenner for another example of a wealthy transfem doing the same thing).
And O’Brien is rich because Rocky Horror is a huge success. The stage show has seen tons of productions, the original ran for 7 years in the West End, and the movie is a slow but certain money maker, with probably the longest theatrical run out of any movie in history. He is swimming in residuals.
This raises the more interesting question of Rocky Horror’s position in the wider culture, and it’s status as “queer media”. It’s a movie which is just not passively watched but celebrated and performed by its fandom. People show up in cosplay to showings, “shadow casts” perform while the movie plays. And of course the original stage musical is still performed.
So we have to ask ourselves, what are people performing? And who is performing it? And I’ve already answered the former question earlier. Rocky Horror is largely an ironic performance of transmisogyny. And the fact is, the majority of people doing that performance are not the main targets of transmisogyny. They are largely TME cishet, queer and trans people. It’s “ironic” transmisogyny to be sure, I think most fans of Rocky Horror who have any understanding of what it is doing view Frank-N-Furter as the true hero of the show. But is it really their thing to be ironic about? Are transmisogyny-exempt people really the people who should reclaim with irony and camp transmisogynistic tropes in horror media? I don’t think so, and that’s why there is so much resentment about Rocky Horror from transfems. And it’s creator doesn’t help, because while he’s arguably transfem, he also spreads transmisogyny in the media.
It illustrates a lot of things, for example how imprecise “queer” is as a description of people. It’s an umbrella term, and does group together people who have much in common. But it also erases the material differences within the community. Queer people aren’t all equally oppressed.
So Rocky Horror status as queer media, as a campy celebration of queerness and parody of anti-queer tropes in genre films is kinda grating. Because it enables TME queer people to perform and celebrate Rocky Horror, because they are queer and it’s about “queerness”, when there are specifically transmisogynistic tropes parodied in the musical. It isn’t really their place to do so.
It appropriates specific transmisogynistic tropes in the media by thoughtlessly subsuming it into the general anti-queerness which it is part of.
Of course there are transfems who got to explore their gender at Rocky Horror showings. But I think the reason they did that is because mtf crossdressing is accepted as part of a camp ironic performance in such a context. It makes it feel safer to perform femininity in public, because you can backtrack and say it’s purely ironic. That’s no different from the comedy crossdressing in American Halloween parties, and I think we can all agree those are often transmisogynistic.
And of course, Rocky Horror is an example of how cis men can perform femininity, and get celebrated for it in mainstream society, while escaping the effects of transmisogyny that transfems experience, and in fact often furthering that transmisogyny. It’s often a (negative) performance of transfemininity, in which actual transfems play no part and are mocked.
Tim Curry is a very good example. He made his career from playing Frank-N-Furter, and he probably couldn’t have done that if he was actually transfem, and not just crossdressing for an ironic performance on stage and screen. Like I don’t have anything against him in particular, quite the opposite, he’s one of my favourite actors, love him in everything from Clue to Muppet Treasure Island to Gabriel Knight. My objection is to the patriarchal and transmisogynistic system that favors cishet men like him.
Speaking of crossdressing on stage, the drag culture which Rocky Horror is inspired by of course has a complex history. It’s deeply rooted in both African-American and queer culture, and transfems have played major roles in drag. But Rocky Horror is if anything even an appropriation of drag culture. It represents drag’s commercialization and recuperation into the mainstream. It took drag out of the gay bars being raided by the police and onto the more respectable West End stage, making a lot of money in the process.
Rocky Horror beyond any qualities it has as a stage and film musical, due to its popularity represents a lot of complex issues. It’s important to queer culture, but it also represents the commercialization and recuperation of queer drag into the cishet mainstream. And within the queer community, it is a shining example of how TME queers can appropriate specifically transfem struggles as their own. It shows how cis men can gain wealth and fame performing transmisogynistic caricatures (even if they are ironic and don’t mean it).
I’m not saying if you enjoy the musical that you should stop enjoying it. But maybe if you are TME, Dr Frank-N-Furter is not your “problematic queer icon” to reclaim.
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Sleeping With Ghosts [[Series Masterlist]]
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC
There's nothing worse than finding out you've been lied to. Five years after having her heart ripped out, a knock at Charlotte's door turns her whole world upside down and she doesn't know how to feel about it.
or
Simon fucked up big time and has his own world turned upside down. Price thinks it might be karma.
TW: Smut, angst, fluff, mental health issues, past abuse, torture, mentions of past rape, pregnancy, PTSD, mentions of attempted suicide, the usual warnings for COD looool
A/N:
I finally caved and made a Tumblr lmao I'll be honest, this fandom intimidates the fuck out of me. Cross posting here from Ao3.
This story follows a Two Act structure. It will begin with the prologue which is set in current times (really kicking this story off with a bang lmaoooo). Then Act One will be set in the past and then Act Two is back in the present.
I’m going to be playing with different POVs to get a real sense of what's going on and there will be a lot of Ghost POV because I love being in his brain :’) I also won’t be tagging each chapter individually so please read the tags here and they will be updated as needed.
Now, to clarify some shit;
I’ve played around with the timeline and shit to make things work better and had to fill in some gaps. We know that Ghost joined the military after the 911 attacks and I had him be 18 when that happened (meaning he was born in 1983). If I made him any older, he’d be even older than I wanted him to be at present times. As it was now, he turned out at 40 in 2023 (when I started this fic). I didn't really want him to be that old (not that 40s old, but you know lmao) so for the sake of this story, ‘present time’ is 2019 and he’s 36.
And the last note; I’m in fact from Manchester myself. Ghost doesn’t have a Manchester accent in the least. No idea why, I always presumed it was something about him joining the military, maybe he picked up an accent similar to a London one or something, but boy is that accent not Mancunian. Not that its a bad thing because I fucking hate Mancunian accents and I say that as someone who has one lololol I won't be mentioning the fact his accent isn't quite right in the story ‘cause that's just awkward :’)
Some chapters will be accompanied with a song that fits (sometimes loosely) the theme of the chapter.
Prologue
Act One: Chapter One
Act One: Chapter Two
Act One: Chapter Three
Act One: Chapter Four
Act One: Chapter Five
Act One: Chapter Six
Act One: Chapter Seven
Act One: Chapter Eight
Act One: Chapter Nine
Act One: Chapter Ten
Act One: Chapter Eleven
Act One: Chapter Twelve
Act One: Chapter Thirteen
Act One: Chapter Fourteen
Act One: Chapter Fifteen
Act One: Chapter Sixteen
Act One: Chapter Seventeen
Act One: Chapter Eighteen
Act One: Chapter Nineteen
Act One: Chapter Twenty
Act One: Chapter Twenty One
Act One: Chapter Twenty Two
Act One: Chapter Twenty Three
Act One: Chapter Twenty Four
Act One: Chapter Twenty Five
Act One: Chapter Twenty Six
Act One: Chapter Twenty Seven
Interlude
Act Two: Chapter One
Act Two: Chapter Two
Act Two: Chapter Three
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x oc#ghost x oc#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x oc
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Snippets of the Travis Stoll fic because i need motivation:
“I’m mature because you left me to take care of an entire cabin of people when I was twelve.” Travis rubs his arms self-consciously. “I had to grow up. Kids would die if I didn’t.”
~~
Travis Stoll loses his virginity when he is twelve years to a sixteen year old daughter of Demeter on the grass behind the Ares cabin, and honestly, he wishes that their landmines had blown him up.
He is twelve years old and a counselor now, and Tammy is in charge of the camp store.
He's counselor now. The children shivering on the floor of cabin eleven, they're his responsibility.
But he doesn't have enough money for blankets and toiletries, and Tammy-- Tammy tells him that if he comes with her and does what she asks, she'll give both of them to him for free, so he does.
He goes with her.
He's twelve years old. He knows what rape is. Knows this isn't it, because he consented, right?
(Wrong.)
~~
Travis’ leg is bouncing up and down. It’s a bit rhythmatic, and calming, if anything could be considered calm. He’s tense, and stiff, and the sound makes him wince every once in a while, when he forgets it’s his leg that’s tapping on the cool flooring, and not someone else’s winding footsteps. Malcolm would just pop! Into existance, scaring the shit out of Travis, but at least letting him know it wasn’t someone else, but… Travis doesn’t want Cecil, or Connor, -or anyone else really- to see him like this.
Not now, when they’re all so scared- when he’s so scared.
~~
“Come on,” Travis fake whines at one point in an attempt to forget everything, “Drop the illusion! Become your true self!” He pouts, as Malcolm continues to ignore him, typing something without looking, at a speed that most would probably consider fast. “Your authentic identity! Drop all pretences in a society that worships fakeness! Embrace your realist inner spirit! Should I go on?”
Malcolm sighs, and while he rolls his eyes, he mutters, “You’ve been spending too much time in Cabin Ten.”
“Have not,” Travis scoffs.
“Have so,” but he shifts anyway, ceasing the- admittedly childish- argument (which was not cool, thank you very much, some of us have bad and annoying coping methods, Malcolm-), the short blond hair shifting to a slightly longer, curlier brown, and the grey eyes turning green.
It didn’t change much, really- Malcolm was still incredibly short- seriously, 5’2?- but Malcolm now had two bandages around his mouth and nose which were slightly wrinkled due to his mouth being shut.
Travis assumed Connor put them on. Malcolm often didn’t bother with bandages, and Drew was more clinical in her approach. It didn’t matter, really, except it made Travis wonder if Malcolm was missing them. His friends. His friends Travis has taken from-
Malcolm nudges him, whispering, “Hey. You alright?”
Travis opens his mouth to respond, but the only thing to come out is a strangled sigh.
~~
Travis is prone to wandering. He thinks it might be a Hermes kid thing, the reasoning spread somewhere in between the cabin being so incredibly small that you share bunks and sleep on the floor, and that if you ever have to go to the bathroom in the night, chances are the entire cabin knows about it because they either get stepped on, or move, or the fact that Hermes is the god of travel.
Travis doesn’t really like either explanation- he was selfish like that, wanting one thing to himself, just one thing, but, well. He was counselor, wasn’t he. Chiron always said, counselors have to share, counselors have to–
Why isn’t he allowed to be selfish?
~~
Travis started in on the waffle fries, drizzling them with syrup first.
“You know they’re called waffle fries,” Malcolm pointed out, looking slightly disgusted, “because of the shape, not because they’re actually made of waffles.”
“Don’t limit me.”
“It’s another cabin eleven thing, isn’t it?”
“Camp thing, really. Surprised you haven’t noticed yet- you’ve been here, what, two years now?”
“It’s not like I often go to the dining pavilion,” Malcolm retorted, and Travis gives a Cheshire Cat grin at the opening Malcolm has given him.
“So you admit you never eat? Cause you know what that sounds li-”
“I do not have an eating disorder, I simply prefer eating in the kitchen before everyone else.”
“So what problem did this come from- ooh, wait no, let me guess- it is because,” Travis waved his arms for dramatic affect, “you were having too many sensory overloads so you got permission to eat in the kitchens, come on, Mr. Pace, congratulate me!” Travis half bowed in his seat, but Malcolm didn’t seem to notice, staring at his own hands a moment too long.
“Hey,” Travis tries. “You okay?”
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The Evolution of Pop Punk Gojo / No Scrubs
Honestly the real answer as to why he's such a pop punk gremlin in May Death Never Stop You is bc I wanted him to be lol. But I did come up with a backstory for it even if I doubt it'll ever make the fic itself.
Keep in mind this is not at all part of the story and Gojo / No Scrubs can play whatever music you want, any songs I call out specifically are really just examples.
BABY PUNK IN THE MAKING ERA: 2000
It’s 2000. The Sony Walkman CD player has been around for over 15 years; the iPod is only a year away.
Gojo is ten years-old and he’s just lost his useless minders in the crowded, tangled streets around Harajuku.
Being allowed out alone (for a given definition of alone, but at the very least without the usual entourage befitting the young master of an ancient house) is a new experience for him. He’s spent the entirety of his life enclosed within the guarded walls of the Gojo clan, learning his clan’s history and techniques. It’s been a very sheltered and secluded existence, and not entirely without reason; since the heralded birth of the Six Eyes holder, assassins and curses alike have been after him. The existence of Gojo Satoru changed the world order, and he was guarded accordingly. It’s rare he has a chance to leave the clan compound, rarer still to be out alone.
But he’s almost eleven now, and he’s mastered his clan’s Limitless Blue technique as well as Infinity; even first-grade curses wouldn’t give him much trouble anymore. He no longer needs the stifling protection of his clan to the degree he had as a small child, and accordingly the hold his clan has on him is growing tenuous. So he’s given the day in Tokyo, ostensibly to find himself a present for his birthday.
He probably would have just gone with cake— he has a rampant sweet tooth, but is rarely allowed to eat sweets— but he’s distracted by blaring, foreign music.
He finds himself alone in front of a record store blasting rock music from a boombox speaker in the front. The store is full of punk clothing, streetwear, and endless rows of CDs all stuffed full of questionably dressed youths. The whole store is very Western, which is a novelty for a child with a very traditional and secluded upbringing in the already secluded Jujutsu society— it’s noisy and loud and seems to be the antithesis to everything his clan has tried to teach him about etiquette and propriety as the scion of a noble house; suffice it to say, he loves it at first sight.
So of course the first thing he does is buy himself a Sony Walkman and grab a handful of CDs from the front table.
The hapless and chronically underpaid part-timer who happened to stock the front display that day was not prepared to accidentally set the most powerful Jujutsu sorcerer on his road of anti-establishment chaos, but really what else did you expect from putting up all that 90's alt-grunge?
Siamese Dream ℗ Smashing Pumpkins, 1994 | Nevermind ℗ Nirvana, 1991 | Third Eye Blind ℗ Third Eye Blind, 1997
Gojo basically grew up in a house with little exposure to music, so throwing himself directly into a genre baked in themes of social alienation, angst, and loneliness that happened to perfectly reflect his own life experiences was something of a happy coincidence. He didn't understand nearly enough English at the time to comprehend the lyrics, but the feeling was conveyed nonetheless.
At some point during his pre-teen angst era he gets access to a computer. His very traditional and insulated family have no fucking clue what the hell a computer even is, so when he says he wants one and goes and gets it they have no idea what kind of open frontier they're giving him with access to the internet. 2001 rolls around and Gojo gets his hands on his first iPod, and promptly becomes that kid on iTunes who racks up hundreds of dollars worth of music purchases before even realizing what he's done.
Most Played Tracks on Gojo's poor Sony Walkman:
Nirvana: Come As You Are, Rape Me, Smells Like Teen Spirit, In Bloom
Smashing Pumpkins: Mayonaise, Today, Cherub Rock, 1979, Bullet with Butterfly Wings
Soundgarden: Black Hole Sun, Spoonman
Third Eye Blind: Semi-Charmed Life, How's It Going to Be, Jumper, Narcolepsy
--MIDDLE SCHOOL GLORY DAYS ERA | 2002 - 2005--
He's in junior high when Fall Out Boy drops Take This To Your Grave in 2003. He's a tiny body of angst and arrogance at the time, so the rebellious-spirited, nihilistic bad-boy aesthetic of pop-punk really resonated with him. He gets really into it; middle school sucks for everyone, but it especially sucks when you've been heralded as a once-in-a-generation sorcerer with god-like powers yet somehow you're still shucked into an elitist young master's private school full of normal (if not blindingly rich) people.
Gojo is very good looking and very good at everything he tries his hand at, so it's not a matter of popularity necessarily. People flock to him all the time, but even amongst a crowd of enamored pre-teens he's never felt more alone. His arrogant personality keeps everyone at a distance, just as he likes it. It all seems so pointless to him, when he's going to Jujutsu Tech for high school anyway. These people don't matter, and they may as well be aliens with how much they live in an entirely different world than Gojo.
Take This To Your Grave ℗ Fall Out Boy, 2003 | American Idiot ℗ Green Day, 2004 | Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge ℗ My Chemical Romance, 2004
This is also around the time he commits himself to actually learning English well enough to understand the lyrics - no matter how fast or convoluted the accent - and he spends a lot of time ignoring the world in his room with his headphones at full blast. A rite of passage for any self-respecting preteen full of existential fatalism.
Completely alone even as he's put on a pedestal by Jujutsu society, music is really his only solace. It makes a profound impact on him, if only because it's the only human touch that can still reach him through his Infinity. He's pushed everyone out of his life but Gerard Way and Patrick Stump, which I also firmly believe is a preteen rite of passage.
He definitely lays around in bed and debates blowing things up, except unlike regular preteens who regularly stomp up to their room and slam the door shut and tell the world to fuck off he's actually capable of doing it. He doesn't though, and instead just listens to You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison for the hundredth time.
Songs that Made it Onto Gojo's iPod Shuffle:
Blink 182: What's my Age Again, Mutt, Stay Together For the Kids
Bowling for Soup: 1985
Fall Out Boy: Homesick at Space Camp, Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over, Saturday
Green Day: Jesus of Suburbia, American Idiot, Holiday,
Good Charlotte: The Anthem, Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous
Lit: My Own Worst Enemy
The Killers: When You Were Young, Mr. Brightside, Somebody Told Me
My Chemical Romance: You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison, I Never Told You What I do For a Living, I'm Not Okay (I Promise), Famous Last Words, Helena
Sum 41: Fat Lip, In Too Deep
Weezer: Say it AIn't So
--HIGH SCHOOL ANGST ERA | 2005 - 2008--
Gojo finally starts his tenure as a student at Jujutsu Tech and it's... unexpected. There are only two other sorcerers in his year and he's not really getting along with either of them. Not that he really puts in anything but a nominal effort. He's spent all of his junior high career as the king of his school, and that was among a bunch of kids who couldn't even comprehend his actual greatness.
Now he's returned to the Jujutsu World, and becomes the irreverent, chaotic, rule-flaunting little shit we all love and adore.
He's a bit disillusioned by it all, to be honest. Life, generally, but also all the pageantry that goes into every facet of it. There's a certain anxiety and depression that goes along with looking at your own life, which is the premise of most of Pete Wentz's lyrics on Fall Out Boy's Under the Cork Tree and also just the thematic overview of Gojo's high school existence. There's an emptiness that comes after the existential dread of self-introspection that Gojo promptly fills up with Fall Out Boy, and then with the addition of Infinity on High (his favorite album, entirely because it has Infinity in the name) even more Fall Out Boy.
From Under the Cork Tree ℗ Fall Out Boy, 2005 | So Wrong, It's Right ℗ All Time Low, 2007 | Infinity on High ℗ Fall Out Boy, 2007
It's an era of Fall Out Boy for him, interspersed with some other great bands of the time/genre. This is also around the time that online music radio Pandora was making its rounds amongst the online music scene, which Gojo spent a surprising amount of time in, for someone who had little to no interest in making music himself.
It would have been nice to be able to bond with his fellow students over music, like he's seen in plenty of movies, but Shoko is a die-hard City Pop fan and Suguru is one of those disturbing 'I just listen to whatever's on the radio' types. Maybe there are other kids in the other years that have better taste, but Gojo's not really the sort to be broadcasting his likes or interests like that - doesn't really fit his 'bad boy' image.
He starts high school pretty firmly entrenched in his pop-punk / emo phase, but it's a pretty tumultuous three years of his life - and society in general, with the internet becoming mainstream and smartphones hitting consumer markets globally - and his music tastes reflect this.
Most Played Tracks on Gojo's Hot Pink iPod Nano:
All Time Low: Dear Maria Count Me In, Six Feet Under the Stars, Coffee Shop Soundtrack, Stay Awake
Cage the Elephant: In One Ear, Back Against the Wall
Fall Out Boy: Sugar We're Going Down, Dance Dance, Nobody Puts Baby in The Corner, A Little Less Sixteen Candles, Thnks fr the Mmrs, This Ain't a Scene It's an Arms Race, The Take Over the Break's Over, Coffee's for Closers
Modest Mouse: Float On, Dashboard
My Chemical Romance: Cancer, Disenchanted
Panic! At the Disco: I Write Sins Not Tragedies, But It's Better if You Do
Paramore: Misery Business, That's What You Get, Decode
Red Hot Chili Peppers: Dani California, Scar Tissue, Under the Bridge
Taking Back Sunday: Makedamnsure, Twenty Twenty Surgery, Cute Without the 'E' (Cut from the Team)
The Strokes: Reptilia, Last Night, Someday
--- ADULTING IS FOR OTHER PEOPLE ERA | 2008+ ---
Post Star Plasma Vessel/Suguru's defection Gojo is a Mess™, but you'll never know it because he continues on acting like an irreverent little shit who doesn't care about anything.
He goes through a period where he doesn't consciously reject the songs that encapsulated his idyllic teenage life, but nonetheless pivots away from the pop-punk genre. He spends a lot of time pulling that Pablo Escobar Narcos meme and staring blankly out into bleak vistas in total silence and solitude. In hindsight, for all his teenage angst and loneliness, his time with Shoko and Suguru had been the least lonely he'd ever felt. Now that he's once again entirely on his own - Shoko off being a doctor and Suguru going off the deep end - he realizes he'd had a brief taste of the feeling of belonging he'd been missing his whole life.
He gets into a lot of indie pop and post-punk stuff, with more electric and synthetic sounds and upbeat tempos.
He traded in his trusty iPod Nano to an iPod Touch, and shortly after switched to the iPhone when it hit the global markets in 2009. Yeah, he was one of those Apple heads, the kind who always had to have the latest Macs and Apple products. In his defense, he was not a tech snob so much as a music snob, and at the time iTunes was the dominant music platform.
Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix ℗ Phoenix, 2009 | Oracular Spectacular ℗ MGMT, 2007 | The Modern Glitch ℗ The Wombats, 2011
He spends most of his early 20's in an indie phase, gets into a lot of electronic, and then from there uses the powers of the internet and gets into all sorts of other genres. One way or another he spends some time in the disco/house music neighborhood, a genre he and Makoto will spectacularly bond over, only to then do a total 180 and decide to form a pop-punk band together.
By the time he's stuck in his second life, it's been decades since he's listened to some of those songs he used to love as an angsty teenager. As an adult he lost track of all his old CDs, probably gathering dust in the attic of the Gojo clan house he avoids at all costs, and as the world moved towards streaming services he stopped keeping up with his staggering iTunes library. It's not as if he forgot those bands or anything, but as the world's strongest sorcerer he rarely had the time to listen to music like he used to.
When he gets dragged back into life as Todoroki Touya, it's been ages since he's heard Fall Out Boy and frankly, he misses it.
There's a glaring lack of the grunge, pop-punk and emo music in this new world he's in, and after digging around online - and begrudgingly, the local library for history books once the internet proves unforthcoming - he learns that most of those bands he used to love don't even exist in this world. Quirks appeared in this parallel universe just around the time Gojo himself had been born. The global upheaval that followed that profound change in human existence caused a chain of events that would have all the disenfranchised youths of the 90's and 2000's too distracted by global chaos, world wars and civil terrorism to make the music he loved and remembered. Music is art after all, and art is a direct response to the experiences of the people who make it.
As far as Gojo's concerned, not having the likes of Nirvana or My Chemical Romance in an entire human history is an absolutely travesty, so he sets out to not only bring those songs back for himself but also as the one good deed he'll ever care to do in this second life of his. And if he happens to make tons of money and reach critical acclaim while he does it... that's just a bonus.
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𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 | 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙏𝙬𝙤
WICKED HEARTS
Pilot | MASTERLIST
Author’s note: This is a POC FRIENDLY blog. I am a black girl and I want to write more fics that don’t leave the reader racially ambiguous. This is self-indulgent and I’m just sharing it with you. Jojo is far from realistic. So, I don’t need to be either. Please don’t leave hate! Thanks!
This is a DARK romance so there will be toxic relationship themes, NSFW themes, descriptions of violence, and gore. There will also be unintentional sexism and racism from the characters toward the reader. The reader is canonically black in this AU but it is written for people from all walks of life to enjoy.
TW? Dio forces his will onto the reader. (Could be triggering but not rape :) )
vampire dividers by mmadeinheavenn
"You are my JOY..." Art by KDash_01 on Twitter!
Authors Note (2/7/2023): this temporary note will be removed soon. I use eleven labs AI to make reading more accessible bc it's hard for me to just sit and read stuff but I ran out of monthly credits to use the program so the audiobook for this chapter will be added later. I am very sorry! - Maron.
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
Several years have passed since your incident with Dio. You avoided seeing him and he didn't try seeking you out…at first.
You introduced yourself to Jonathan and the both of you became fast friends. Although it was platonic, Dio couldn’t stand the fact that someone that belonged to him was able to be in the presence of Jonathan. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t care that things were messed up because of him. Jonathan shouldn’t get to talk to you. This newfound jealousy sat at his core and festered. Dio had been putting on a front the entire time of being “Good guy Dio.” It was the only way he could ever gain back the trust of everyone else. Soon he would turn on them.
Dio began poisoning his own adoptive father. The very person that showed kindness to him, giving him the benefit of the doubt when no one else would. He lost you but he only continued burning bridges with the ones he loved. Were the two of you new lovers now? He couldn’t stand the thought of it. He didn’t want to believe it because you were too smart for a fool like Jonathan. The idea still ate away at him. Jonathan was a fool but he was indeed much nicer than Dio.
The rumors of you dating Jonathan were only present in Dio’s head. It was clear to any and everyone that the two of you were just friends. Jonathan often asked about Erina but it seemed like she wanted nothing to do with the Joestar boys. The only thing he could do was respect that. Jonathan would also apologize to you on behalf of Dio. It wasn’t needed or wanted but you accepted it regardless. You shared your way of making tea and baked goods over the years. You were a very prominent family friend. Something that Dio could no longer ignore.
You heard of George Joestar’s sickness and he personally requested that he have some of your famous dessert and tea. You were happy to prepare it for him but it was only once you were ready to have Jonathan deliver, you got the news that the man went out of town. You arrived at the Joestar manor and the door was answered by their butler. That meant that Dio was the only other person taking care of George.
You met with their father. He looked pale and as if he hadn’t slept in days. It was like he could collapse at any moment. “Hello there, Mr. Joestar.” You greeted the old man with a sweet smile. “I brought your favorite.”You showed him a slice of cake. “Jonathan told me you shouldn’t be eating any sweets but I couldn’t help it.” You then took the tea kettle out of your bag. “I was also able to make it here while the tea was still warm.”
A small smile crept up on the man’s face. “Thank you so much, (y/n). You’ve been a true asset to my boys over the years, but most of all, to me.” You laughed, seating yourself in a nearby chair. “Oh, no worries Mr. Joestar. I believe that I’m just doing the bare minimum.”
Dio lingered outside the door of George’s room. He didn’t even want to admit something like this but he could say he was jealous of his father as well. He was jealous of anyone you gave your time to because of how exclusive your relationship was before.
The muffled voices ceased speaking. Dio began to leave. He didn’t want to see you right now but he was not fast enough. Just as he turned away, he heard the door open and close followed by faint footsteps. As flustered as he had gotten over you, he couldn’t help but face you. There was no way. In what world could he actually be able to ignore you when you were only a few feet away?
When you noticed Dio, it was clear he was eavesdropping. You wanted to believe your feelings for him had faded but a small bit of them was mostly there. You never paid any mind to him until now. He had grown just as big as Jonathan. Then you noticed his arm. It was in a sling as if he had broken it.
“What happened to you?” You whispered, holding your hand up to your mouth in disbelief. The attire you had on wasn’t something Dio had seen before. It was fit for the cold weather but could be considered promiscuous. A Victorian-style corset dress that highlighted your bust with sleeves that hang off the shoulders. It hugged your curves and left nothing to his imagination. All topped with a beautiful fur cloak that concealed the rest of your body. It seemed as though you dressed a lot nicer than you had when you were only children.
“It is nothing of your concern.”
You huffed. “I don’t believe it’s nothing.” You laughed out loud, but just a little. This made Dio grit his teeth. “And why do you care? It’s clear that you’ve married some rich bastard. Go bother him.”
“Still as bitter as ever.” You muttered. “I’m not married, Dio. Jonathan hasn’t told you about me I assumed?” You made your way over to him, examining his arm without touching it just yet. “No. Jonathan hasn’t told me anything about you of the sort. It’s like you want nothing to do with me.” His voice was laced with venom. He held so much anger. All of it would just diminish if you just became his again.
“The Pendletons had given me a small loan to begin my own tea company a few years ago. I’ve paid them back since then.” You smiled softly. Dio’s face softened at you. Did you finally find salvation from your financial problems…without him? “The tea company you’ve always talked about having…?” Dio remembered all the times that you’d mention being the owner of a tea company in private. It was just something he thought you’d talk about in passing. How could he not have known?!
The Pendletons!? How could they? Dio was supposed to be the one helping you achieve your dreams. Not them. This only made his hate grow more. He was beginning to face the harsh reality that your life never revolved around him.
You nodded. “My life is my own now.” Grabbing him by his big shoulder, you ushered him to come with you. The oversized man followed. They must’ve tried really hard to hide an entire tea company from him. It didn’t sit right with him that he was completely flushed out of your life. Now there would be a dozen men constantly pining after you.
Dio told you the directions to his study and that’s where you would take care of him. A part of you really wanted to see if he was actually handicapped or if this was a ploy for sympathy. Other than Jonathan and Erina, you were the only person who knew the real Dio and the lengths he could go to. “How did you hurt your arm?” You asked politely. Your fingers grazed themselves over his sling. “A street fight.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes. “You’re too lavish and frilly for street fights at your age. Am I really supposed to believe that?” You placed your high-end purse to the side and your jewelry made audible jingling sounds as you removed your fur coat.
Frustrated, Dio ripped off the sling, throwing it to the ground. “Okay. I lied. What do you want me to say? Jonathan attacked me.”
“Mmm.” You pursed your lips. “Jonathan doesn’t strike me as one to attack his own brother. And to think, the two of you were getting along so well.” You placed a hand on your cheek. You’ve changed so much and grown up quite beautifully. “Oh, so you think I’m lying?” Dio narrowed his eyes at you. “You lied about your arm just now.” You snapped. “I bet you’ve done something wrong and now you’re trying to act hurt for sympathy.”
“You don’t know anything, woman.” He spat. “You barely even know the man in front of you.”
You quickly grabbed your handbag. “Fine. Then I have no reason to stay here.” You shrugged to yourself as you put your coat back on. “Wait!” Dio raised his voice a few octaves. You felt his arm grab yours. “Yes?”
“Don’t…leave.”
The grip he had on your arm tightened with every word. “I’m begging you. Please don’t leave.” Dio cried his crocodile tears. You wanted so badly to believe him but you knew better.
“Dio…” You flashed him a sad smile, raising your free hand to his cheek. You wiped his fake tears and he leaned to your touch. “I still have feelings for you. I’ve already accepted that I will never stop loving you and I’ve held our relationship close to my heart…”
Dio’s face lit up. You had to admit that he looked very adorable when he didn’t have such a scowl on his face. “My feelings have remained for you as well. I haven’t had any relations with any other woman in hopes that one day you-“
“I don’t believe we can be together.”
A force that was never known before today filled Dio. The pit in your stomach that causes one to throw up. The feeling that makes you want to throw yourself off of a nearby cliff. Rejection.
You expect Dio to insinuate violence again, but he didn’t. He let go of your arm. “What?” The words fell breathlessly from his mouth. “But I did everything right.” The man cried more, except his voice wasn’t soft. It was deep and raspy. You frowned. “Dio, if you see your behavior now, then you’re solidifying my suspicions of you not changing your outlook on life.”
Once again, Dio let you go. It was probably the right thing to do. Dio was clearly no good and his presence would only hold you back.
This devil wouldn’t be able to accept the harsh reality.
Dio did what any man of his stature would. He drank.
It was unlike him to drink but essentially losing you again was enough to drive him to crippling alcoholism. He roamed the streets, not caring about any danger that came his way. It was all over anyway. Jonathan knew he was poisoning George and could be back with evidence at any moment. Dio would rot in jail and he would never see you again.
In a drunken state, Dio bumped into a duo of ruffians who were also drunk and didn’t take kindly to his misstep. The idea crossed his mind to use the mask on the men. It would surely kill them. It was how he was planning to kill Jonathan, after all.
Instead, he learned a new secret. Something far more valuable than anything else he would have known about the mask. In the process of being attacked by his vampire victims, Dio hurt the very arm that he had been using as leverage in the past, needing the arm sling for real this time. It was embarrassing, but he didn’t care. Not one bit. There was a change in his plan that could turn everything in his favor.
A day later, you got the news that Dio died. The Joestar mansion caught fire. The news got to you the next morning. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t cry for him. Dio was sad and miserable but you always hoped that he would come to his senses. Now, you could never be with him.
But life goes on.
You managed your tea company as normal but you found it hard to build connections with other men. No suitors gave you the same attention he did. They wanted you because you were pretty or for your money so their attempts to romance you were very disingenuous. You had gotten thoughts about visiting Jonathan but you believed you still needed time. Seeing him would only make you think about Dio.
You often beat yourself up for being so harsh with Dio. Perhaps, leaving him to figure things out on his own was too cruel of you. The next day, word got to you that Jonathan recovered but there was still no sign of Dio’s body. You assumed the worst and that his body was burned beyond recognition or still buried under the rubble. Either way, it contributed to your sadness and made your job hard. You decided that you would have an assistant take over while you allowed yourself to mourn the loss.
Jonathan and Erina spent their time together. They caught up and began to bond again. You went back to visit the Joestar mansion…or what was left of it. You left flowers for Dio the first day. You hoped that he was resting in a better place now.
You checked into a nearby Inn. You planned to stay there for a few days and maybe visit Erina too. You were still trying to work things out.
You were shown to your room. It was the most expensive suite. You had it all to yourself. You often treated yourself and being able to have good living conditions made the situation a bit more bearable. But when nightfall came about, your neighbors would realize that this inn was a house of horrors.
You settled down, bathed yourself, and got ready for the next day. Your night had been going like any other but this night, in particular, had you more on edge. You felt as if you were being watched. Sometimes you would even feel a presence behind you but when you looked…it was nothing?
Perhaps you were put off by the sudden bad news. You figured things took a toll on you and the best idea was to get some rest. Unfortunately, it seems that your sheets weren’t the cleanest. Anyone else would be furious at paying for such a nice suite to have dirty sheets, but from your humble beginnings, you understood that mistakes happen. You would simply request new sheets. You went to the front desk and talked to the staff. They sent a young man up there to change your sheets immediately.
You thanked the staff and began to walk to your room. It had only been a few minutes since you left but there was already no sight of the boy. “Fast service, I guess.”
When you got to your room, your door was wide open. The room was dark and it was freezing cold as if all the windows were open. “What in god’s name…?” You reluctantly entered your room. You used the light of the moon to navigate your way. You found your matches and began to relight the candles that were scattered about. You closed your window and tried to warm up once again. When you arrived at the bathroom, you heard…gurgling.
You placed your hand on the door of the bathroom, trying to gain the courage to open it. You were already getting spooked by the random noises and figures you were seeing through the night. The last thing you wanted was a haunted inn room.
You barely pushed the door before you heard a deep voice emit from behind you. It was sly and very familiar to you. Could you have been hallucinating!?
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
You quickly spun around. Greeted by a huge man you’ve never seen before, you opened your mouth to scream. His speed allowed him to cover your mouth in an instant with his face obscured by the uneven levels of darkness in the room. The other hand lightly caressed your arm now that he was behind you.
Tears welled up and immediately began spilling out of your eyes. You grabbed the hand of your attacker, trying to pry it away from your mouth so that you could cry for help.
But it was like he had the strength of 1000 men!
“It’s honestly so touching that you’ve come all this way to show your appreciation for me. Even after ignoring me for 7 years.”
You squirmed, trying to get out of his grip. This has to be a hallucination or ghost of sorts. This suite was haunted. It had to be.
The attacker let you tire yourself out before bluntly dropping you to the ground. You huffed as you tried to crawl away. They watched your pathetic attempt to run away, slowly walking alongside you.
“Somebody help me!” You cried out as you reached the door, only for it to slowly shut in your face. The intruder picked you up before turning you around. Then you saw his face.
His face.
“Dio? You’re alive?” A wave of different emotions washed over you as you processed the face of the man in front of you.
It was Dio.
But Dio Brando died in a fire.
“My lovely (y/n).”
A clawed hand tenderly rubbed your face, staining it with blood. The metallic smell invaded your senses. Your fight or flight mode was going off, like, 30 times more than necessary. “You’re not real!” You squeezed your eyes shut. “Dio died. Stop pretending to be him.”
“Oh, but I am. Your eyes do not deceive you, my dear.”
The person in front of you was clearly Dio, but he looked so different. His hair was messy and he was completely covered in blood.
“Wh-what happened to you? How did you live?” You choked out. You didn’t know whether to be overjoyed or completely scared out of your mind. Why was he covered in blood?
Dio laughed. “Oh, Darling, I should have been more honest with you at our last meeting.” He smirked at your behavior. It felt so much better being in direct control this way. He originally didn’t like the idea of scaring you but he seemed to have changed his mind.
Before he could continue, there was a knock on the door.
“Ma’am? We heard screaming coming from your room! Is everything alright?” The night attendant spoke muffled speech through the door. “Oh, it seems we have a guest.” Dio placed you on your feet and walked to the door. He opened it to reveal an innocent bystander that he pulled inside. He didn’t allow them to scream or even make a sound before he drained them of all of their life essence, making them as skinny as a skeleton.
You wailed and cried at the sight of witnessing death so closely. With the leftover strength you had, you ran and locked yourself in the bathroom. ‘Dio is a monster!’ You internally panicked. Were you going to die too? Was this his angry spirit coming to punish you for the petty antics the two of you engaged in? Your life was finally beginning to go well. Why? Why would this happen?
“Darling? Don’t tell me you’ve gone in there anyway, despite my requests for you not to.”
It was Dio again. He was jiggling the knob and trying to get inside.
You took deep breaths, looking around for an escape. There was a small window at the very top of the room you could crawl out of. It seemed like it would work but then you heard a groaning sound.
The gurgling from before got louder until you turned around to see the Inn worker from before. His skin was saggy, pale, and covered in blood while he walked with a limp over to you. It was a zombie.
Not another moment passed. The door was forcefully removed from the hinges, breaking in half and falling to the ground like scraps of paper. Dio made quick work of the zombie, destroying its body and tossing the remains to the side.
“I can tell you how I lived.” Dio grabbed you and removed you from the bathroom. “I think you should listen to me, for once.”
Appearing in his hands was a peculiar-looking mask. “With the help of this, you can live as I do.” Like a painting, Dio paralleled the mask with his very own face.
You shook your head. “N-No! I don’t want to be a monster.” You tried to pull away but he did not budge. “I don’t remember when I asked such a thing.” He pulled you closer. “Live as I do, (y/n). Reject your humanity. Live forever with me and we can rule the world.” As he spoke, you could see the teeth in his mouth. His canines were longer than the average humans, becoming more visible after noticing them for the first time.
You wanted to believe so badly that this was just a dream. A nightmare. Anything that meant that it wasn’t real. This was too much. Dio was dead. Dio died in a damn house fire!!
“No!” You shouted, yanking your arm away from him. It was painful but you managed to slip through his grasp and fall to the floor. You stumbled to your feet, attempting to run to the door but Dio tripped you. You didn’t stop. You crawled until you could get on your feet again, but Dio pulled your leg back towards him. A haunting smile crept up on his face. “Dio, please!” You screamed, clawing and kicking at the man. You bruised him, drawing blood, but he didn’t care. You could fight until you got tired. “No! Stop!” The monstrous man tried to force the mask on your face. You didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be a creature like him. “Please, stop!” You continued to fight him, your muscles burning at the overexertion.
“Resisting only makes it more painful.” He whispered into your ear, barely moving a muscle as you fought for your life. “No! This isn’t right. Please stop!” Your muffled cries fell on deaf ears as he smothered your face with the mask. He used the fresh blood coating his hand to activate it, causing the spikes to come out and penetrate your skull. The sound of your burning transformation filled the entire Inn. It was almost a miracle that you didn’t lose your voice from all the screaming.
“The pain is only temporary, my dear.”
#jojo's bizarre adventure#dio brando x reader#dio x reader#dio x black reader#dio brando x black reader#dio#dio brando#POC reader#angst#dio headcanons#dio fanfiction#dark romance
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𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑬𝒍𝒊𝒐’𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈!
𝑹𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔:
I will be writing smut, fluff, comfort, and angst. I'm not experienced with writing as much as other writers are, so don't expect the best.
No sa or rape of any sort because we don't tolerate that.
No piss/shit/fart kinks ya dirty fucks.
No pedophilia. Age gaps only can consist of five years apart in my story's when 18+
No human servitude.
I write for any sexuality and any gender.
I do write drabbles and hcs.
I don't write agere/little space on this blog, I'll set up another blog for that!!
I don't care how old you are I can't stop you from reading my stuff 😕🙏🏻
Requests are open!!
𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔 & 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓
The Walking Dead:
Rick Grimes
Carl Grimes
Daryl Dixon
Negan Smith
Glenn Rhee
Ron Anderson
Enid Rhee
Maggie Rhee
Michonne Grimes
(Bonus: I might write for others too. Maybe Shane idk.)
The End Of The Fucking World:
Alyssa Foley
James (last name unknown)
Heartstopper:
Charlie Spring
Nick Nelson
Tao Xu
Elle Argent
Darcy Olsson
Tara Jones
Sahar Zahid
Issac Henderson
13 Reasons Why:
Clay Jenson
Hannah Baker
Justin Foley
Alex Standall
Jessica Davis
IT:
Bill Denbrough
Richie Tozier
Beverly Marsh
Stanley Uris
Mike Hanlon
Henry Bowers
Patrick Hockstetter
Victor Criss
Belch Huggins
The Flash (IMDb):
Berry Allen
Cisco Ramon
Caitlin Snow
Harry Potter:
Harry Potter
Hermione Granger
Ron Weasley
Fred Weasley
George Weasley
Draco Malfoy
Tom Riddle
James Potter
Remus Lupin
Sirius Black
Mattheo Riddle
Theodore Nott
Regulas Black
Stranger Things:
Mike Wheeler
Will Byers
Jonathan Byers
Nancy Wheeler
Lucas Sinclair
Dustin Henderson
Steve Harrington
Henry Creel
Eleven
Eddie Munson
Criminal Minds:
Spencer Reid
Aaron Hotchner
Derek Morgan
Penelope Garcia
Jennifer Jareau
Twilight:
Bella Swan
Edward Cullen
Jasper Hale
Alice Cullen
Rosalie Hale
Carlisle Cullen
Emmett Cullen
Jacob Black
Seth Clearwater
Esme Cullen
Thirteen:
Tracy Freeland
Evie Zamora
Mason Freeland
Melanie Freeland
Anne With An E:
Gilbert Blythe
Anne Shirley
Dianna Berry
Cole Mackenzie
Jerry Baynard
The Goldfinch:
Theodore Decker (older and younger)
Boris Pavlikovsky (older and younger)
The Turning:
Miles Fairchild
Kate Mandell
Flora Fairchild (NO SMUT)
When You Finish Saving The World:
Ziggy Katz
Lila
American Horror Story:
Tate Langdon
Violet Harmon
Kit Walker
Lana Winters
Zoe Benson
Kyle Spencer
Cordelia Goode
Fiona Goode
Jimmy Darling
James Patrick March
Elizabeth/The Countess
Kai Anderson
Winter Anderson
Ally Mayfair-Richards
Austin Sommers
Mr. Gallant
Edward Mott
Rory Monahan
Shameless:
Fiona Gallagher
Lip Gallagher
Ian Gallagher
Mickey Milkovich
Mandy Milkovich
Carl Gallagher
I Believe In Unicorns:
Davina
Sterling
Tokio Hotel:
Bill Kaulitz
Tom Kaulitz
Georg Listing
Gustav Schäfer
Slashers/Halloween movies characters:
Max Dennison
Billy Loomis
Stu Macher
Sydney Prescott
Bo Sinclair
Lester Sinclair
Vincent Sinclair
Jason Voorhees
Freddy Kruger
Michael Myers
Jason Dean
Patrick Bateman
Brahms Heelshire
BONUS singers/actors/youtubers:
Sam Golbach
Colby Brock
Jake Webber
Albert (flamingo)
The Sturniolo Triplets
Finn Wolfhard
Noah Schnapp
And finally... ALEX TURNER 😋😋 (he's so husband material)
!!PLEASE USE THIS RESPECTFULLY AND WISELY!!
#who i write for#carl grimes x reader#kyle spencer#james patrick march#kit walker x reader#tate langdon x reader#twd daryl#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead daryl#daryl x reader#rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#negan smith#negan smut#negan x reader#twd negan#my rules#please read#please reblog
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Lose me to Love you (Loki x Female Reader) (AU) (18+)
Read Chapter 22 here / Series Masterlist
Chapter 23
Summary: Loki isn't the only one fighting with his inner demons. People from your past continues to turn up.
Trigger Warning: 18+, Description of rape and assault, panic attack, violence against women, Extreme dark themes, Sexual abuse, physical abuse, public sex, Rough violent sex, 18+, Steamy stuff, age difference ,Rough language, mention of suicide, talk of virginity and slut shaming, manipulative behaviour, mention of trauma, smut, toxic relationship between main characters. Dark themes, cult stuff
His palms felt clammy, he had been standing outside the orphanage for half an hour and you were taking your own sweet time coming out, as he noticed a girl approaching him he was slightly surprised. For some reason he kept picturing the eleven year old sweet girl that he knew instead of this fully matured grown woman that he probably would have fucked if he met her at the club. Just 18, he had to remind himself that you were barely an adult.
"Hiiii" you smiled at him and he snapped out of his thoughts.
"Y/n"
"Lokii..how are you?" You were the reason he was even alive today, for a moment the feeling overwhelmed him so he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him to hug you.
"Thank you darling, thank you..I'll take care of you I promise" the gratitude slipped past his lips and as he felt your arms around his waist his nerves went calm for a moment.
"So it was your birthday a few days ago, want to do something?" You looked at him as he said that.
"Not really..Where are we going?"
"Ummm my place" you hummed as he answered.
He drove you to his house and you looked around as you both entered the studio apartment he was renting in Brooklyn. It wasn't enough for you two but that's all he was able to do at the time, the divorce settlement has ruined him even further.
"It's cozy, I like it" you placed your backpack down on the couch and smiled again.
"Well you can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch, food is in the fridge, here's the..umm some money..you can go grocery shopping or get whatever you need..the girl stuff and all" he passed you a few dollar bills so you took it from him, everything was awkward with you two and he felt it in his bones.
"What do you do for work?" You asked him and he sighed
"A small gig at a club"
"What type of gig, are you a bartender?" He combed his hair with his fingers as he tried to avoid your constant gaze.
"A bouncer..you ask too many questions" The job always paid okay, that's also how he met Jolene as well, she frequented the club he worked at and she finally asked him out one fine day. When they got married she got him a position at her accounting firm but he was fired while he was resting after the wrist slitting incident. Now he wished that he never ever met her at all.
"That's hot..i like bouncers..they're soo strong and so manly" his brows furrowed as you said that, how the hell you had even been in a nightclub? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know that.
"Well I have to go meet someone..when I come back we can discuss your uhhhh future plans…if you want to get into college or–"
"No discussion required..I want to become an actor..we should probably move to LA" you mumbled nonchalantly before you proceeded to raid the fridge that was mostly empty.
"Excuse me?" He looked at you all perplexed, getting you into acting business didn't seem feasible to him.
"LA? Los angeles?"
"I know where LA is ..are you serious about this acting thing?"
"As serious as Joker was before his dad carved his face" he looked at you all confused again as you quipped "Really??never?? Oh my god we are definitely going to watch the dark knight once you come back.. Don't worry we don't need to watch the first part.. honestly 60 percent of people skipped the first part and went straight to TDK and somehow it makes perfect sense ..it's like you're not even missing anything important or worth knowing…you know…"
Your voice faded in the background as you continued to speak gibberish to him. However your sweet voice also filled his empty sad apartment and he liked that. Alot. That was the moment he knew that life wouldn't be the same from then, he knew he'd have to make several adjustments and since he had taken the responsibility of taking care of you, your dreams and aspirations became his as well.
His eyes opened to your shaking form and he absolutely abhorred that, every time you had a nightmare he felt afraid that you'd slip past his fingers like that one horrible time. It had happened a few days prior to your mother's anniversary during the second year of living together. He never talks about it because you don't seem to have any recollection of those two days, at first he wasn't sure how to deal with you, how to bring you back but on the third night you went to sleep and came back absolutely normal. You had a bad dream last night too but it was about Thor and he just knew this one was different from that. He knew you'd probably not remember this one because it involved your mother.
"Hey sweetheart" he turned the lamp on to see you properly. His heart rendered as he noticed the tears running down the corner of your eyes,
"Loloooo …mommmyy .. I want mommmy" you sniffled, your voice reminded him of that little girl he had left at the orphanage.
"I know baby..it's okay.. open your eyes..I'm here..im here" he shook your body a little and you woke up gasping for air,
"Lolooo mommyyy ..I need mommmy"
"Shhhhhh baby.. everything is okay..you're safe" he mumbled softly as he wiped your tears, his lips lingered over your forehead before he wrapped his arm around your waist and made you sit up so he could embrace you, you felt safe that way.
He leaned against the headboard while you clutched onto him and cried your heart out.
"I'm here baby, my sweet girl, come back to me, I'm right here, you have me i promise" he mumbled mindlessly
"Don't send me away ..they sent me away every time I had a nightmare..they sent me to that place I hated" you sniffled between your words and his eyes welled up.
"You have me okay? I got you baby, I got you i promise" you hugged him as tightly as you could and your foggy grief stricken mind lulled you to sleep but he couldn't sleep that night, next morning as usual you didn't remember the outburst like always, a few years ago he had asked Steve about that place you kept talking about after such nightmares and Steve told him that it was a psychiatric hospital where they sent you whenever you relapsed or whenever you showed the signs of dissociative Amnesia.
"What are you making?" You hugged him from behind so he smiled.
"Guess" you opened the lid of the pot and all the excitement disappeared
"Porridge" your face scrunched in disgust and it made him smile.
"Well you wanted to eat healthy remember"
"Just take me to the gym again, it's been months" you groaned as you moved around the kitchen to make tea
"I will.. as soon as he's caught" You hummed as he said that "Are you feeling okay sweetheart?" He asked you softly and you shrugged
"Yeahh why?" He sighed as you said that. He wanted to ignore it like he had done before but after last night and the way you were trying to help him cope with his trauma, it had made him reflect upon your own situation, you didn't get away unscathed from his father's abuse, sure he wasn't able to harm you irrevocably but the damage was already done when he had hurt your mother.
"Because of the nightmare? Do you remember what you saw?" He asked you and you stopped doing whatever you were doing.
"Nooo.. i .. I didn't have a nightmare last night..it was the night before remember?" You walked over to him to kiss him on the cheek and he hummed in response. He can't just dump it on you, that would only make the matters worse, he had to find a way to talk to you about this.
"Take me shopping today daddy, it's my birthday in a few days"
He picked you up and sat you down on the counter as you said that. Your birthday. He promised to fuck you senselessly on your birthday but the approaching date had him feeling someway, he couldn't decide if it was a good feeling or not, a part of him wanted to ravish you and enjoy every second of it. The other part though? that bastard wanted to keep himself away from your precious body as far as possible, he didn't deserve to fuck a girl like you, he was one of the reasons why girls like you lost their lives, he was the reason why their dreams got broken so how come he got so blessed as to have someone as pure as you saving herself for him.
"What else would you like to do? A party perhaps?" You thought about it as he said that.
"Or we could just spend it together..just the two of us" you answered him while your fingers played with his chest hairs so he kissed you.
"Aren't you bored of seeing my face all the time?" He chuckled after speaking.
"Ask that girl who spent 7 years without seeing this angelic face. She'd always say no" his eyes softened as you said that.
"For this to happen it had to be that way"
"For what to happen?" You asked him confused so he cupped your cheeks.
"For this to happen.." he kissed you passionately, it wasn't a touch and go type of kiss either, his tongue slid into your mouth so you sucked on it, he tasted like peppermint. Delicious "It had to be that way" you inhaled sharply as he finally decided to allow you to breathe.
"Does it bother you that I was into you way before you were into me?" You asked him
"You were just a child sweetheart, you didn't even know what you felt"
"Well I knew I wanted to kiss you, I was ten when I knew that I wanted to kiss you and –"
"Shut Up.. that's inappropriate as hell" He pressed his thumb onto your lips but his digit couldn't really stop you from smiling or talking even
"It's just the truth, and to this date you are still the prettiest boy i have ever seen in my life"
"Well i'm no boy now my darling" he wrapped your legs around his waist to pull you closer to him and his mouth travelled down from your lips, you moaned as he sucked the soft skin of your neck.
"Some parts of you is still the boy i met"
"Uhhhuh like what?" He chuckled condescendingly so you held his cheeks and kissed him lovingly, as lovingly as you could.
"Like these eyes, still as gentle as I remember, mommy always told me that you could judge a person fairly well by the look in their eyes, you have the kindest eyes lolo" his eyes teared up as you said that. He thought you'd give him a break after last night but you were hell bent on coddling him like a baby.
"Well your mommy wasn't really the best judge of character"
"Take it back" your voice broke because the meanie in him came out again so he kissed you again.
"I'm sorry baby" he murmured against your mouth and you almost melted into a puddle because of how tender he seemed at the moment "You're forgiven" He smiled as you whispered. He wondered how badly he'd have to hurt you to make him unforgivable in your eyes because no matter what he did or said you always forgave him and that too pretty easily.
"What else?" He asked you and it confused you for a moment before it finally dawned upon you. He wanted to know more about those boyish parts of him.
"The smile, still the same, everytime I felt scared at the orphanage I would just think about you and your smiling face, that calmed me down immediately" he kissed you again instead of responding with words "And your voice hasn't changed in the slightest either"
"You are such a sentimental little girl"
"Is that bad?"
"Not at all, I just don't want to disappoint you with my stoicism" a smile graced your features at the blatant lie.
"You're pretty sentimental yourself mister "
"No I'm not"
"Yes you are"
"Shhhhhh"
After force feeding you that unsavory porridge he took you shopping like you had asked him to, you also had to be at an audition tomorrow, you needed to find work or you knew he'd try and find other works, like that thing he used to do at the club, you hated not having him at home all night.
You picked a dress but you didn't want him to see it just yet. You both spent the whole day out, it was a peaceful day but it didn't stay that way. Ofcourse it didn't. It came crashing down on you.
Your soul almost evaporated as someone ran in front of the car, you both watched a woman lying unconscious in the middle of the deserted road and you wondered if she was alive.
"Is she…oh gooddd" you mumbled under your breath so he looked at you
"Stay in here okay?" He asked you so you nodded. She had long blonde hair so it wasn't Jolene, you hated that it was your first thought. Your worries didn't cease there because as Loki rolled her over, it was someone you knew, someone you both knew very well. He picked her up hurriedly before you two could get caught by a passerby or something. After laying her down on the backseat, he quickly got in and drove towards the apartment as fast as he could.
"Ummm is that uhh--"
"Yeah and I don't trust the bitch so we are going to take her home and you're going to help me tie her up as securely as we can okay?" You looked at him all perplexed and he glared at you so you nodded.
The cops on the patrol tonight asked him about her so he lied that she was a friend that had gotten drunk out of her mind. As soon as you all reached the apartment you helped him tie her up onto a chair.
"Lokiii what are we doing..is she even alive?" you asked him nervously so he walked towards you and grabbed you by the shoulders.
"She's alive and breathing, it makes no fucking sense that she'd end up right in front of our car of all people"
"We should tell Steve "
"No not after Thor's situation, I'm already on his radar"
"But what if this brings us more trouble?" he wiped the sweat beads from his forehead as you said that. Ever since his bastard father has escaped your lives has turned into a rollercoaster that just doesn't seem to stop rolling.
You both waited for her to come back to consciousness and when she did she started to struggle against the binds almost immediately.
"Why the fuck are you here?" He asked her as he pulled up a chair right in front of her, you dragged another chair from the kitchen table, it almost looked comical as you tried to be as quiet as you could but the situation wasn't funny at all.
"Lokiii? Y/n?"
Well no memory loss it seems.
"Why the fuck You have me tied up Loki? I know you enjoyed that one time I had--" your eyes widened as she said that. He fucked her all tied up? Again you hated how your mind couldn't move past the jealousy
"Shut up.. shut the fuck up okay? Why are you here..answer me" he glared at her and she looked at you, she then gave you the sickly sweet smile that you remembered really well.
"Oh look at you now, turned yourself into Loki's pretty little girl huh?? Dreams do come true i guess"
"Sister Natasha–" Loki glared at you so you corrected yourself
"Natasha..what are you doing?"
"I don't understand, do you guys like own LA now that I can't be here?" She chuckled and Loki's teeth gritted in anger, he was so close to doing something awful
"Are you here to do his bidding again? He sent you.. didn't he?" she started laughing as he said that.
"You are still so naive loki. You know if he wanted to be here and eat her heart he'd be here, he won't need me" He stood up and all of a sudden there was a smacking sound that you heard, you looked at him shocked as he slapped her. Her lower lip split open at the force he used, your eyes teared up because you weren't expecting him to just go off like that, he never lost his control like that with you. He wasn't like that. Not with women. Not outside of consensual bedroom shenanigans.
"Ohhh I have missed that" her reaction wasn't shocking though, you knew they fucked, you just didn't know they indulged into this, though you should have guessed considering the sexual history of the cult.
"Don't make me kill you Natasha, just tell me the truth, for once in your life, tell me the truth"
He heard you sniffling so he turned his head to the side to look at you, the look on your face was enough to kill whatever shred of self esteem he still had left in him.
He walked towards you and grabbed your arm to take you to the bedroom.
"Stay here" he warned you before he turned around to leave
"This is not you loki" his eyes teared up as you said that.
"That's me sweetheart, that's the real me..still want to believe that bullshit you had made up in your head about me? This is me..the monster I keep warning you about"
You shook your head as he said that, you wanted to stop him and hold him, tell him that he wasn't a monster but he didn't give you a chance, just an hour later cops raided the house, they were tipped off. Natasha told them that he had kidnapped her, she told them that you had no involvement in all of this, you begged Steve to not believe her, you asked him to not take him away from you but he said that he was helpless. All the evidence was against him.
They wanted to take him away to lock him behind the bars, he was to be questioned later on about his motives.
And that's when you were finally able to understand why he went crazy on her, he knew her. You didn't.
You didn't know that she was as rotten as Odin. He wasn't wrong, she was there to do his bidding and she got what she needed. You without him by your side.
@annoyingsweetsstranger @whylokiissocute @loki-s-wife @fraoid3 @siggytumbles @crzyplantladyvibes @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vickie5446 @wheredafandomat @mcufan72 @xxntiimulti @loz-3 @dishahaldar @mcdesij @scram1326 @elthreetimes @army24--7 @sinsandguilt @holotacopeely @huntress-artemiss @blog-the-lilly @ultraviolencexxss @disneyismyworldforever @bunny24sstuff @kats72 @somewiseguy @asgardianprincess1050 @multifandom-world8 @loki-laufeyson-1054 @daddylokisqueen @lulubelle814 @itsybitchylittlewitchy @rogerrhqpsody @praq123
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Surrogate Luna, Chapter 25
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: angst, mentions of loss of limb, homophobia, gay relationship (mm), mentions of murder plot, murder, mention of rape.
“I need an audience with alpha Barnes and his Luna.”
Nat gave Sam a wary look, and turned to her sister, who was shaking her head from her place at the other side of the doorway.
“Sam, I know that you are a friend, but-“
“Exactly, I’m a friend. So, let me in to talk to Bucky and Cinna,” he growled, projecting his aura outwards, “I received information about Steve from one of the people still in the pack who’s stayed on Sharon’s good side so that he could feed me updates on my actual alpha. And Cinna and Bucky need to hear it!”
“How about you tell us this, information, and if it seems worthwhile, we tell our alpha!” Yelena suggested.
The beta sneered, baring his teeth at the she-wolf, and Natasha stepped between the two, “calm yourself down, beta.”
“I have dire information about my alpha, an alpha that I know Cinna and Bucky are still in love with,” he hissed, “information that could save his life, should they take me up on it!”
“What do we care of an alpha that has no bearing on our pack?”
“You stupid she-wolf, let me through!”
The door opened behind the set of sisters and the older beta. Clint’s brow was raised, and he had one hand on the door handle, while the other was casually reachingfor his arrows, “it’s starting to get loud out here. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Finally, someone that will listen to reason,” Sam grunted, throwing a glare at the sisters, before turning his attention to the sigma, “I’ve got friends still within the Rogers pack, and I’ve been informed that Sharon is going to make an attempt on Steve’s life. I need to speak to Alpha Barnes and Cinna.”
From within the room, Cinna looked to Bucky, who while trying to remain composed, had let a bitterness rise into his scent.
“Bucky…”
“Bucky…”
The young pup, who was once smiling, was trying to contain the anxiety in his scent as Steve tugged on his hand , “Bucky?”
His eyes snapped to that of his mate.
Steve, though only a year younger, was much smaller than himself. The ten-year-old was often mistaken for seven or eight, despite being a ten-year-old alpha. And while they were both alphas, they’d been caught kissing behind an oak tree where a delta warrior had been walking past.
Bucky proudly took the younger wolf’s hand, the eleven-year-old alpha glaring at the much older delta, “don’t speak in an ill manner about my mate, delta!”
“Bunch of queers,” he growled, glaring between the two pups, “your fathers should beat some sense into ya. Both alphas. Both boys. You’re disgusting!”
“I said don’t speak about my mate!” Bucky growled, projecting his aura outward as he sneered at the delta, his teeth baring. The delta twitched, and his eyes widened. He was surprised that the young pup was affecting him.
He stumbled back, falling into a kneeling position.
And while that would have satisfied most other wolves, Bucky and Steve could hear the delta continuing to discuss his disgust at the romantic entanglement between the two pups.
The scene was so uncommon that even amidst the summit going on about them, a crowd of other wolves had looked at them with interest.
“APOLOGIZE!” Bucky hissed at the man, continuing to project his aura.
The delta growled, the pain racking his body as he continued to submit to the child, “Fuck you, you faggy little mutt! Fuck you and your faggot mate! I’m not apologizing for shit!”
“I SAID APOLOGIZ-“
“BUCKY!”
Bucky stopped projecting his aura outwards as his own father, as well as Steve’s, came into view.
“Father…”
“What on earth is going on here?” Alpha Barnes growled.
“This is supposed to be a peace summit!” Alpha Rogers joined in.
Both Bucky and Steve looked away from one another. Bucky dropped his partner’s hand.
“WELL?” Alpha Barnes bellowed, turning his attention between Bucky, Steve, and the delta from his pack, “SPEAK!”
“My alpha…your son…he-“
“HE WHAT?”
“He’s a queer!” the delta spat, spitting at the ground in front of Bucky, “saw him and the other alpha boy kissing behind a tree. Fucking kissing!”
“He’s my mate!” Bucky said firmly, “Steve is my mate!”
Alpha Barnes and Rogers looked uncomfortable as they shifted their attention between their sons. The two alphas had always known that their sons were close, but they both always chose to ignore just how close Steve and Bucky were.
“Steve?”
“James?”
Bucky could feel the disappointment in his father’s voice. Just as he could feel it in Steve’s fathers. Neither one of them were an omega. And if they mated one another, that meant unless they took on a female, there would be no heirs for either pack.
His stomach turned.
While being gay wasn’t illegal in his or Steve’s packs, it was still frowned upon if you were a warrior, or a future alpha of the pack.
He knew that by proclaiming Steve to be his mate, he was going to deny any obligations to create an heir. Or at least, that’s how it would look to other wolves within both packs.
“I love him, father.” Bucky said firmly.
His father’s jaw twitched, and he looked at Steve, “and you, son?”
“I-Bucky is my mate, Alpha Barnes. I love him!”
“Disgusting!” the delta growled.
“It seems that someone would be challenging your mateship, young alpha!” Joe Rogers smirked, hoping to scare the young pups away from their love, “is that something that you two are willing to stand for?”
“Then let them!” Bucky replied firmly, “I will never stop loving Steve. He is my mate!”
“Alpha Barnes…” Joe Rogers smiled, “you know what a challenge to mateshp means…”
“Delta, are you challenging my son’s mateship to young alpha Steve Rogers?”
The delta gave a sickening smirk as he nodded, his nostrils flaring, “it’s unnatural is what it is. And I refuse to let my future alpha mate another man…it’s not right!”
“Delta…be smart with your words,” Bucky hissed, knowing where it was going, “if you challenge my mateship to alpha Steve, I will show no mercy.”
“And I will end you. There will never be a time where my future alpha is a fag!” he hissed, “royalty or not. I will not stand behind it.”
“Death trials!” the eleven-year-old proclaimed confidently as he once again took Steve’s hand in his own, “if you challenge my mateship, then I will challenge you to the death trials in accordance to the Barnes pack!”
“Your death warrant, kid!”
“Alpha…”
Bucky felt a phantom pain in his arm, and he whimpered, remembering the first time his relationship with Steve was questioned.
While he’d managed to beat a full-grown adult at a death trial, he’d lost his arm in the process.
And Steve had made it clear to him that he wasn’t going to let the alpha lose a part of himself every time someone questioned their relationship. He’d broken up with him shortly after, leaving Bucky angry over his love for the other alpha.
“Steve made his choice…” Bucky muttered sadly, “he made his choice years ago…”
“Alpha…”
Bucky frowned at the sadness in his luna’s voice, “Cinna…Steve-he-he’s not the same Steve I knew when we were pups. He’s not the same Steve that you’ve gotten to see. He’s under Sharon’s thumb. The only similarities are that he abandoned both of us when he got scared to stand up for his love.”
“He’s our mate, alpha…”
Bucky could feel the sadness filling the room and he closed his eyes, nodding to Clint, “let Sam in so that we can hear him out.”
He felt Cinna clutching onto his arm and he sighed, “Thank you, alpha…”
“I have not promised anything, Cinna…I’m merely hearing Sam out,” he pointed out, “you may not like the answer that passes from my lips just yet.”
The door opened further, and Sam was shown into it, a solemn look on his face as he bowed ever so slightly to the alpha and omega.
“You have asked for the presence of myself and my mate,” Bucky said in a low, firm tone, “What news do you have, Sam?”
“A spy from Sharon’s inner circle…she’s loyal to the Rogers pack,” he admitted with a frown, “I was told that Sharon plans on killing Steve after his next rut. She’s drawing her power from him, but she’s going to remove her mark on him and kill him now that neither you or Cinna have come for him.”
Cinna gasped, and Bucky pulled her close.
“W-why would she kill him now?” she asked nervously, “he-he’s been with her for years. It’s been months since the summit and-“
“He’s outlived his use to her.” Sam pointed out, “she’s all but imprisoned anyone left loyal to Steve. The Rogers pack is all but wiped out and she’s claimed the lands for the Carter pack. And the news of your pregnancy has hit. She knows that you and Bucky have no more ties to Steve, and have chosen to move on with your lives without him. Part of her had been holding out hope that by keeping Steve around, she would weaken the two of you. She is tired of keeping him a POW when he has no use.”
“Bucky, we have to help him…”
Bucky’s jaw twitched but he said nothing.
“I wouldn’t tell you if I knew that either of you had moved on, alpha Barnes…”
“You may leave…” Bucky said firmly, looking to the door.
“Bucky, what are we going to-“
“Omega…we will discuss this later!” Bucky muttered, taking his leave of her, “I-I need to think…alone.”
Steve snarled at the woman before the door was wholly open. The rings of yellow turning amber around his eyes as he started to go feral.
“Oh, come on now, Steve,” she smiled as she sauntered into the room and closed the door behind her, “don’t be like that.”
He growled, refusing to speak to her. She took another step into the room, and he tried to lunge at her, but was caught by the chains around his neck.
His back hit the ground with a heavy thud, and he was immediately coughing. Rolling to his side he groaned.
“There’s no point in trying to fight me,” she reminded him, “I have all the power here, Steve…”
“Go to hell!” he spat, attempting to fight away the baser instincts while he shook, “GO AWAY!”
“Aww, but Steve, I came bearing a present!” she smiled. She knocked on the door and it opened. An omega from his pack was tossed in. She fell to the floor and Steve’s head snapped up.
“NO!”
“She’s here for you to use, Steve!” Sharon smirked, “might as well use her. I mean, you’ve been in a rut now for nearly a week…and we both know the longer you hold out the worse it will be.”
“Alpha!” she whimpered, looking up at him.
Steve’s heart broke.
He had made a promise, sealing the traditional oath when he had become the alpha of the Rogers pack, that he would protect his own. But here a young omega was, roughly nineteen or twenty. He could spot the marred chemical burns from Sharon’s people undoubtedly removing the mating mark on her neck.
He’d vaguely recalled who she was, knowing that her mate was among one of the first warriors of his that Sharon had killed.
She was dirty and looked exhausted.
Broken even.
“Just kill me!” she begged him, “please kill me, alpha…I-I don’t want to live any longer…not under this she-wolf…her lieutenants-they-”
But she had stopped herself, sobbing against the dirty rags she wore.
“What did you do to her?” Steve roared angrily, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY PACK?”
“This one in particular?” Sharon smiled, before launching a kick to the omega. She whimpered and fell to her side, and Steve saw the bruising on her thighs as the rags she wore slid up her legs, “well, let’s just say she’s one of the girls that takes care of my warriors and thanks them for their service.”
“Alpha…”
Steve’s stomach turned.
“You’re a monster!”
Sharon cackled and kicked the omega again, pushing her closer to the nearly feral alpha, “come on, Steve…my boys say she knows how to take an alpha’s cock…cries a little at first, but I know when you get started, you won’t even notice…that hindbrain will take over and you’ll lose control, knotting the little bitch. And before you know it, you’ll be gutting her because she’s not your precious little CInna!”
“I WON’T HARM MY PACK!” Steve spat, his shakes becoming worse as he tried to fight off what Sharon was saying would happen. His hindbrain was coming alive, and he knew that it was only a matter of time as the tremors worked harder on his hands.
“You’re not as strong as you once were, Steve,” she laughed, pushing the omega into Steve’s area. He pushed himself back, away from her, and Sharon continued to kick her closer, until she was almost into Steve’s area herself, “take her, Steve. Fuck her and then kill her. DO IT!”
Steve looked down to the sobbing woman, feeling the wolf starting to come forward as his own willpower bent to her exposed aura. He closed his eyes, and looked away from the woman as he felt his claws coming out of his hand.
He screamed in anguish as he tore into the hardwood floors.
“I’m so sorry!” he sobbed, as his hand reached out, and screams filled the room.
Chapter 26
Tag List: @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @mrsevans90
#surrogate luna#a/b/o fic#marvel#marvel au#the avengers#steve rogers#captain america#bucky barnes#a/b/o#chris evans characters#sebastian stan characters#sharon carter#alpha steve rogers#alpha bucky barnes#sam wilson#beta sam wilson#natasha romanoff#clint barton#yelena belova#black widow#hawkeye#falcon and the winter soldier#the falcon#falcon#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky#james buchanan barnes#the winter soldier
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For anyone interested, this is the post I saw on the Teen Wolf subreddit this morning.
I included the top comment because it's incredibly relevant to this "argument," and surprisingly, with a few exceptions, most people seemed to agree that the main post was bullshit and out of pocket.
At the time I'm writing this post, it's been six years since Teen Wolf ended its run. That means it's been eleven years since the referenced episode Master Plan aired. Eleven years! And still, there are people who remove any and all context and go out of their way to shit on the main character and protagonist of a show. This person didn't once mention the fact that during the scene where Scott held up Derek to bite Gerard, Allison's life was in imminent danger. Nor is it mentioned that Gerard threatened to kill Scott's mother more than once, one of the times literally having her suspended from the ceiling by her neck and the other he shoved a knife into a sixteen-year-old boy.
It's safe to say that Gerard would have followed through.
None of that's ever mentioned. Because these people don't care. They don't care that Scott was forced into a corner and that the choice was between making Derek bite Gerard (for which he had a contingency plan if it got that far) and watching people he loved die.
I guarantee you that if it had been Stiles instead of Derek, the fandom would have a different opinion on this scene.
But here's the thing. If it's considered "rape" because Scott (really Gerard) took away Derek's autonomy, why does that never apply to other characters? Why is Peter not considered a rapist by these same people for biting a teenage boy and trying to force him into his pack? Or when Peter bit Lydia? Or hell, even Derek himself! Derek, who assaulted a teenager multiple times, breaking into his house, stalking him, destroying his property, breaking his arm, using him to gain power, and even beating him into unconsciousness with his literal boot on this boy's neck. Does that not count as violating bodily autonomy? Or how about when Derek preyed upon three emotionally and socially vulnerable teenagers to trick them into joining his pack of child soldiers?
Why do these things never count?
And I want everyone to understand, I'm not saying these things about Derek because I hate him. These are things that he did in the show, and ultimately, it worked out because Derek had one of the best character arcs in the show.
I'm just trying to understand why Scott is vilified when other (white) characters who do similar, if not worse, things never receive the same level of hostility. I mean, we all know why (it's the racism), but since a large part of the fandom continues to deny it, I'm waiting for whatever this other reason is.
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Tell me everything about Joan if Kent, specifically which historians I should hiss at.
Oh man, Joan of Kent is awesome. It's hard to describe her life quickly because she had such a long and varied one. It spans from the end of Edward II's reign and the upheavals of Edward III's minority throughout the glory years of Edward III's reign to the decline in his latter years to the Peasants Revolt and the fragile beginnings of Richard II's reign. She can assume a number of different shapes: romantic heroine, powerful and influential woman, fashion icon, mediator, literary patron, scandal, survivor. She makes a status-defying match, ostensibly for love, and then follows it up by marrying the heir to the throne of England, again ostensibly for love.
Of course, it was the Middle Ages so a lot of medieval chroniclers and commentators saw her as the stereotypical wanton, transgressive woman.
Her story:
Joan was the daughter of Edmund, Earl of Kent (Edward I's youngest son) and Margaret Wake, and was thus Edward I's granddaughter, Edward II's niece and Edward III's first cousin. She was born before or on 29 September 1326-1328 (the exact year is debatable). Her father was executed in 1330 in highly controversial circumstances for attempting to free the deposed and likely dead Edward II.* Joan is generally believed to have become a ward of Philippa of Hainault as a small recompense for Kent's execution (Edward III and Philippa are believed to have played no role in Kent's execution). In the winter of 1340-41, Joan was married to William Montagu, the son and heir of the Earl of Salisbury. This was an entirely conventional match: he was of similar age and status to herself, the marriage ensured she would become Countess of Salisbury upon his father's death. But about seven years later, there was a scandal: a knight, Thomas Holland, claimed that Joan had married him clandestinely and that they had consummated it before she married Montagu. He appealed to the papal authorities to return her to him.
A long, protracted dispute followed. Montagu appears to have kept Joan imprisoned in strict seclusion so she could not respond or appoint an attorney to respond on her behalf to the papal investigation. Eventually, she was able to do so and evidently supported Holland's claim: the investigation found in Holland's favour. Her marriage to Montagu was annulled and she and Holland were have their marriage solemnised publicly.
Because of the scandal and the struggle to have the marriage recognised, as well as the unusualness of the match itself, Joan and Holland's relationship has typically been seen as a romance for the ages. But Joan was, at most, 13 years old (and possibly even as young as eleven) and Holland, born c. 1315, was around 25 years old, i.e. close to, if not actually, double her age, when they married clandestinely. At around 12 years old, she was considered to be "marriageable age" and a medieval 12 year old was likely considered more mature than a modern girl of the same age. But she was, still, you know, a 12 year old girl marrying a 25 year old man. That it has been hailed as a great romance is not really surprising given the stereotypical view of the Middle Ages as a time when dirty old men married preteen girls and raped them and the fact that until very recently Lolita was published with a blurb calling it the "only convincing love story" of the 20th century.
There are a number of legends attached to Joan from around this time. Two stories refer to a Countess of Salisbury and Joan held the title for the last four years of her Montagu marriage, though her then-mother-in-law, Katherine Grandison, also held the title as the dowager. The first story records that Edward III raped the Countess of Salisbury - the details of the story make it clear that Katherine, not Joan, is who was meant, though that has not stopped some with connecting the story to Joan specifically. The story itself is unverifiable - the earliest, i.e. contemporary, recording of the story contains both factually correct and factually incorrect details, and it is French in origin, which might mean it was propaganda designed to smear Edward III (this does not prevent it from being true, however). Some have suggested that the story has been confused. We certainly have no way of proving or disproving it beyond a doubt, but the idea it was meant to refer to Joan are very slim.
A second, much lighter story involves the foundation of the Order of the Garter. In it, the Countess of Salisbury is dancing when a garter slipped from legs, producing amusement. Edward picked up the garter and returned it, admonishing, "Honi soit qui mal y pense!" ('Shame on him who thinks ill of it!'), which then became the order's motto. This tale has also been heavily doubted and whether it was Joan or Katherine who is meant is debated. In both stories, Joan is often the more prominent candidate but that likely reflects how b*etter known she is and how these stories "fit" with her reputation as a beautiful, sexually desirable woman.
From 1350 to 1361, Joan gave birth to five children: Thomas, John, Joan, Maud and Edmund (who died in infancy). In 1352, Joan's only surviving sibling**, John, died childless and she inherited the earldom of Kent. This led to a massive step up in status and wealth for her new family. Holland died on 28 December 1360 from illness.
By spring 1361, Joan had another husband in line: Edward of Woodstock. Edward was the eldest son and heir of Edward III, Prince of Wales, war hero, chivalric icon and known famously, if anachronistically, as "the Black Prince". Joan was not the obvious choice for the Prince's wife - a conventional choice would be a royal or noble woman from the European continent (there had been a number of failed marriage negotiations for this type of marriage for the Prince), and had the Prince outlive his father, Joan would have been the first English-born queen since the Conquest. She was also the first Princess of Wales since Wales was incorporated into the English crown. It's frequently asserted that the Prince had long-loved Joan and he does appear to have referred affectionately to her, but we don't really know what Joan felt about the Prince or her marriage.
As a result of the Treaty of Bretigny, the Prince was to rule Aquitaine on Edward III's behalf. Joan and her Holland children accompanied him when he sailed to Aquitaine the following year. We don't know a lot about Joan in Aquitaine. We know her fashion sense drew fairly predictable criticism and that she gave birth to two sons while there. The first, named Edward, died in Aquitaine in 1370, aged 5 years old and the second would become Richard II. The Prince was much-criticised for his arrogance and ostentatious style in ruling Aquitaine and it's possible Joan was a part of that. A lot of work has gone reassessing his rule, however, and found it was not necessarily as bad as has been assumed.
After 1367, the Prince became seriously ill and the war with France was set to reignite. Incapable of carrying out his duties in Aquitaine effectively, Edward, Joan and their family returned to England in 1371, where his health declined further. Joan often acted in his stead during this period, and when he died in 1376, she was made guardian of their son, Richard, who was now the ailing Edward III's heir and became king himself in 1377, aged only 10.
Joan remained a infinitely influential and powerful woman in the coming years, with some historians describing her as a "quasi-queen". A large portion of pardons and grants were made at her request, and as Countess of Kent and the dowager Princess of Wales, she had large estates of her own to administer. She also enjoyed a great reputation as an mediator: she mended the quarrel between John of Gaunt, Henry Percy and the city of London and mediated between Gaunt and Richard. Interestingly, her entourage included leading members of the Lollard movement, suggesting she may have been interested in reform of the church. This was also time of Geoffrey Chaucer and literary scholars has been suggested Joan served as inspiration for a various number of figures in Chaucer's work.
During the Peasants Revolt of 1381, she was harassed en-route to London and the rebels asked for her to kiss them. Chroniclers also recorded her state of terror when the Tower of London was broken into, though it may have been more of a rhetorical device on behalf of chroniclers to show what they saw were the horrors of the rebels' behaviour.
Joan appears to have taken a step back from court. Possibly, she was increasingly incapacitated by illness (it's been suggested Joan suffered from dropsy/edema; the chronicler Thomas Walsingham claimed she was so fat she could barely move, though no other chronicle made this claim), or possibly she retired once Anne of Bohemia married Richard II so not to overshadow the new queen. Despite illness and retirement, Joan attempted to mediate between Richard and another of her sons, John Holland, when the latter murdered Ralph Stafford and Richard had determined to execute him. One chronicler claimed Richard's refusal to hear her pleas caused her to die of grief. The stress of the situation could hardly have helped if she was suffering an illness. She died 7 August 1385 and was buried in the same church as her first husband, Thomas Holland. This has generally been taken as evidence that she loved him best but the situation may have been more complicated. The plans for the Prince's burial changed dramatically, which may have led Joan choosing to be buried elsewhere or she may have made her choice to as a gesture of affection for her less royal family. Richard did pardon John after Joan's death and they were reconciled, so one might say that even in death she was a successful mediator.
In terms of her descendents, Richard died childless but most of her Holland children had issue. She had descendents on both sides of the Wars of the Roses.
*If you're unfamiliar with the reigns of Edward II and Edward III, the short summary is that Edward II ended up basically alienating everyone through his relationship with and preferential treatment of Hugh Despenser the Younger (quite possibly his lover). The queen, Isabella of France, eventually allied with Roger Mortimer, Earl of March and spearheaded a rebellion that led to Edward's deposition and the execution of Despenser. His son, Edward III, became king but as he was a minor, Isabella and Mortimer effectively ruled in his reign. Edward II was said to have been murdered on 21 September 1327 and most historians accept this. However, there are some references to Edward II surviving well past this, including the plot to free him that Edmund was involved with, and there is a coterie of historians who believe it, namely headed by Ian Mortimer and Kathryn Warner. Given Edmund's royal blood, his execution was deeply unpopular - no one could be found willing to execute him until a criminal was given a pardon in exchange. Edward III is said to have wanted to pardon Edmund but was blocked by Isabella and Mortimer by doing so. When Edward III took control of government and ousted Mortimer, he posthumously pardoned Edmund and executed Roger Mortimer. One of the charges against Mortimer was that he'd duped Edmund into believing Edward II was still alive.
** Joan had two or three siblings. Her brothers were Edmund, the eldest boy who was born had died before 5 October 1331 and John, who was born posthumously on 7 April 1330, inherited the earldom as an infant and died childless on 26 December 1352. A sister, Margaret, is sometimes identified but she seems to be attested only from an authorisation to negotiate a marriage - Penny Lawne has argued that it was more likely that Joan was the intended bride but the clerk writing out the authorisation confused her name with her mother's (Margaret). There does not seem to be any other evidence of her existence - she is not mentioned as attending the baptism of John, though her other siblings are, and she is not mentioned in the Inquisition Post Mortems for John where Joan is named as his only heir. If Margaret had existed, she must have died sometime before John's death. Her death is sometimes given as 1352 but I'm not sure what the source for this is..
Historians To Hiss At.
As you might guess, Joan's life suggests a sexual impropriety and scandal, or in a slightly less misogynist sense, a life dominated by romance. She was a bigamist. She was married for love. She married three times and only one of them to a man appropriate to her status. She's both Lady Chatterley, driven by lust into the arms of a man of lesser status, and the relentless, cold-hard social climber like Philippa Gregory's Anne Boleyn.
So of course historians through the centuries have replicated that bias. For some, like Anthony Goodman, she's a giddy romantic who follows her heart who never manages to mature. For some, she's a romantic heroine, her and Thomas Holland are the epic romance of the Middle Ages which, uh, doesn't really take into consideration Joan's youth at their marriage. For others, she's a saucy wench, hooker with a heart of gold - I've seen someone point out how young Joan was when she married Holland on Twitter and gotten the response of "well she was saucy ;)". For others still, she's just a slut and a selfish, slippery, scheming one at that. After all, all those good men wouldn't have been falling themselves over her without her seducing them, would they? Anyway, it's a Russian Roulette whenever you pick something up about Joan. Will it romanticise a guy having sex with a 12 year old? Will it call the 12 year old a giddy romantic? Will it slut-shame the 12 year old? I've only found one thing - Samantha Katz Seal's review of Anthony Goodman's biography of Joan - that actually suggested Joan was a victim of abuse without immediately offering a theory to work around it.
Two examples:
The peach that is renowned Ricardian crank and misogynist John Ashdown-Hill wrote that "the girl's [Joan was in her 30s) reputation left a good deal to be desired … she was deficient in some respects and rather too-well endowed in others".
Ian Mortimer's biography of Henry IV makes overly frequent comparisons between Henry and Richard II, who Henry deposed and had murdered, basically to the tune of "Henry was better than Richard! Henry had the biggest penis!" One repeated comparison is their mothers, where Mortimer describes Joan's legacy as "burdensome" for Richard and cast a shadow over his legitimacy, while "Henry’s mother, in contrast, was popularly regarded as one of the most lovely adornments of the English court". One's a burden, the other's a beautiful object.
But the historian that I really get my hackles up about is Kathryn Warner, probably I once thought really very highly of her. She talked a lot about going back to the original sources instead of repeating what other historians have said, not speculating without supporting evidence, and having progressive values. Notably, she called out the homophobia and misogyny that hung around depictions and discussions of Edward II and Isabella of France. She was originated (I think?) or at least got heavily involved with the Don't Defame The Dead movement with history bloggers and the histfic community on Goodreads.
Warner follows Mortimer's example, talking about how "embarrassing" Joan was for Richard II unlike the Saintly Dead Paragon Of Medieval Feminine Virtue That Was Blanche of Lancaster. She even deepens that comparison when talking about Joan being sexually harassed during the Peasants Revolt:
even the rebels in 1381 demanding kisses from her, though it may indicate that they liked her and found her considerably more approachable than other members of the royal family and the nobility, does not imply deference for a royal person and the king’s mother. It is difficult to imagine anyone demanding a kiss from Joan’s predecessors Philippa of Hainault or Isabella of France, or from Henry of Lancaster’s mother Duchess Blanche.
So... we're victim blaming Joan for being sexually harassed. After all, as Warner loves to point out (repeatedly) Joan did have a "habit of dressing in the style of a freebooter’s mistress" that "did Joan’s reputation no good whatsoever". In her Philippa of Hainault biography, Warner seems to imply that Joan's style of dress was the sole complaint about the Black Prince's conduct in Aquitaine.
Edward and Joan of Kent lived in magnificent, extravagant splendour, and not everyone approved: one observer stated that the princess of Wales and Aquitaine wore great furred gowns and low-cut bodices in the style usually worn by the mistresses of freebooters: ‘I am disgusted by those women who follow such a bad example, particularly the Princess of Wales.’ Even so, not a word of condemnation came from Edward’s parents the king and queen.
There are many, many complaints about the Prince's actual conduct but Warner chooses to single out Joan's fashion sense and implies that it was worthy of condemnation from Edward III and Philippa of Hainault. Given Philippa herself was an assiduous follower of fashion and it seems doubtful that she'd think Joan following the new fashion style was worthy of complaint.
Actually, it would be very reasonable to interrogate this. Richard Barber points out this is the "French view" of English fashion and it may well be that there was underlying xenophobia in the sentiment. Additionally or instead, we could read it as another entry in the age-old misogynistic tradition of men complaining about women's fashion. In short: we should not be replicating the biases of the Middle Ages as an excuse to talk about how embarrassing or condemnatory Joan's behaviour was.
But what was, you may be asking, a freebooter's mistress? A freebooter was a effectively a pirate so Warner is effectively saying that Joan dressed like a pirate's whore.
In discussing Joan's marriage, she gives Joan's age as "only thirteen or fourteen" before correcting herself to "at most thirteen and a half" and then notes Holland was in his mid-20s. Warner then says:
Evidently, though, she found him extremely appealing, and they married clandestinely and consummated the marriage, or so they later claimed.
I feel like if a man writing in the 1970s can recognise that Joan may have been coerced in marrying Holland, as Karl P. Wentersdorf did, saying Joan may have "been placed under pressure by her suitor and had not given her full and free assent", Warner can do much, much better than "clearly 13 year old Joan of Kent found him soooooo hot". We have no idea how they married or how Joan felt about her marriage as it happened. Of course it's possible that Joan found him hot - kids have crushes on adults all the time, though they don't really want to have sex with their crush except in the theoretical sense. But maybe Joan didn't, maybe Joan was pressured, as Wentersdorf suggested in 1979, or maybe she was groomed and believed she did. But I think it is just... a really irresponsible, victim-blaming line to take in relation to a 25 year old marrying a 13 year old (if Joan was as old as 13).
While Warner does recognise the creepiness of the relationship between Holland and Joan, she discusses it like so:
Thomas Holland was twice her age, a gap which makes their supposed love-match seem less romantic and more creepy and abusive to modern sensibilities (though contemporary opinion would have held an earl’s daughter and king’s granddaughter marrying a man so far beneath her in rank as a far worse misdemeanour.
I'm so glad she threw in the reference to how Joan, contemporarily speaking, was the worse offender in the relationship. We have no idea how people who actually knew her understood the relationship, it's possible they were horrified on her behalf. We only know what chroniclers - writing when Joan was an adult - made of it and chroniclers were frequently full of misogyny. As Warner has pointed out herself, they were the gossip magazines of their day.
Warner suggests that rather than using the money Holland had gained for fighting in the Crecy campaign to finance the very expensive process of appealing to the papal authorities, he felt that finally, with all this money, he could keep Joan "in the style to which she was accustomed", making her sound like a spoilt brat who'd been like "eww poor person" at Holland. Montagu, in Warner's telling "supposedly kept her prisoner". That neither Joan nor an attorney on her behalf responded a summons and that Pope Clement VI dispatched a brief to the Archbishop of Canterbury and other prelates enjoining them to ensure Joan could appoint her own attorney suggests that Montagu was preventing Joan from responding in some way.
This is all a prelude to the theory Warner believes in which is that Joan and Holland made up the story of their earlier marriage because they met while Holland was working as Montagu's steward and fell in "love or lust" and wanted to marry. So, in that regard, Joan isn't a victim of what today we would call child sexual abuse but actually an adulteress who lied to the papal authorities because she wanted to be Mrs Thomas Holland.
Only problem is that there is absolutely no evidence of this and quite a lof of reasons why it doesn't make sense. This post is long enough already so I'll write them up in a separate post. We can't even say that Holland was Montagu's steward because the only evidence of this is in John Hardying's chronicle, written during the Wars of the Roses - over a century on from events.
Some of this might sound like nitpicking or disagreements on historical record, and maybe it is. But Warner does have a Facebook post where she complains about Joan's "fans" who depict her as "amazingly special and unique and far more important than anyone else" (where are all these fans, I wonder). In the comments, she indicates her reasoning for the theory Joan and Holland lied which basically boils down to:
it's sickening that the story is treated as a great love story when it's not love and "just disgusting"
Not speaking up about his marriage makes Holland look like a coward, which he wasn't and it makes Holland look like an abusive groomer which she sincerely hopes he wasn't
she "prefers" the version where Joan wasn't groomed and raped and it's empowering to imagine her choosing Holland
Joan's fans are annoying
To which I would say:
It is sickening! But also: how people have interpreted and represented the relationship has nothing do with the reality of it.
It's not "brave" for a grown man to admit to having sex with a 12/13 year old. And he did very much admit to having sex with a 12/13 year old Joan - eventually. Being brave in battle does not make a man more or less likely to be an abuser. Finally, wishing and hoping does not make history.
It is a historian's job to interpret the evidence, not ignore it for a fantasy scenario in which they can feel good about what happened. It is also not really empowering or feminist to erase Joan's abuse.
How do people living almost 650 years on from Joan have any impact on Joan's lived reality? Girlbossed historical women is an annoying phenomena but it has nothing to do with the real Joan or her life.
#joan of kent#asks#poppaeasabina#text posts#maybe we need to add slutshaming and abuse apologism to the list of things#we as modern historians and commentators should do better than the medievals
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eliza fletcher
a 34 year old memphis woman was abducted and murdered while jogging by a man that has spent decades in prison from crimes including kidnapping (age 16), rape (age 14), assault, and many more, starting from the age of 11. just two years after his release from a 20 year sentence from kidnapping a man at age 16, he committed this murder. he was released 4 years early for 'good behaviour credits'. he waited in his van for her to pass, then ran out and shoved her into the van.
this occurred around the same time another man in memphis went on a rampage and shot up the city while livestreaming it on facebook, and it happened with the exact same circumstances. he was charged in 2020 with attempted murder and various other charges, but accepted a plea deal of just aggravated assault, and only three years, AND THEN ONLY SERVED ELEVEN MONTHS OF IT.
until 1. this is reviewed and addressed as MALE VIOLENCE and 2. we stop the extreme lenience on violent, high risk men, then this is going to continue to happen. prison shouldn't be meant for justice or punishment, but to protect society if one proves themselves to be a danger.
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Born on 11 December, 1936, in Philadelphia, Joseph Kallinger was placed up for adoption as a young child. He was adopted by Stephen and Anna Kallinger and his upbringing was nothing short of horrendous. From a young age, he was abused by his foster parents. Some of these punishments included flogging with a cat-o’-nine tails, being beaten with a hammer, being forced to kneel on jagged rocks, being whipped with a belt, being starved, being locked in a closet, and being forced to consume excrement.
In 1944, Kallinger was raped at knifepoint by a gang of older boys. This attack prompted Kallinger to masturbate while holding a knife in the other hand. Kallinger first married at the age of just 17; the couple went on to produce two children before she abandoned the family home for another man. Married again in 1958, Kallinger burnt down his own house for his own pleasure, reaping the $1,600 from the insurance. He would set the family home on fire another four times.
By 1972, Joseph Kallinger had gone on to have five more children. It was this year that he branded his daughter’s thigh with a hot iron after she attempted to run away. He was convicted of child abuse and received four years probation. By 1974, Kallinger complained about hallucinations and was known to talk to a disembodied head which he called “Charlie.” It was around this time that he believed he had received “orders from God” to murder young boys and sever their genitals.
Kallinger confided this information to his son, 13-year-old Michael Kallinger, and persuaded him to accompany him in his orders. Their first victim was Jose Collazo, a young boy from Puero Rico; they kidnapped him and killed him before severing his penis. Kallinger next decided that they should kill a member of their own family: his other son, Joseph Jr. Kallinger.
Michael attempted to make Joseph Jr. accidentally fall off a cliff as they were posing for photographs. When this failed, they brought him along on one of their arson activities and tried to trap Joseph Jr. in the burning tailor; again this failed. The final and successful attempt at his life took place three days later, when they drowned him at a demolition site.
Later in the year, the murderous duo broke into the home of Joan Carty, where they ransacked her house before tying her to the bed and sexually assaulting her. They laid low for the next eleven days as they planned their next macabre move. In Susquehanna Township, Pennsylvania, they held five workers hostage and managed to make off with $20,000 in cash and jewellery, but not before randomly slashing the breast of one hostage.
Over the next few weeks, they continued to break into homes where they sexually assaulted two women. On 8 January, 1975, they broke into a home at Leonia, New Jersey, and held eight hostages at gunpoint as they ransacked the house. One of the hostages was nurse, Maria Fasching. She was ordered by Kallinger to bite off one of the male hostage’s penis, to which she refused. Enraged, Kallinger stabbed him to death before Kallinger and Michael fled. It was this murder that led to their eventual downfall - Kallinger discarded of a bloody shirt near the crime scene.
The murder charges against Michael Kallinger were dismissed in return for a guilty plea on two counts of robbery. He was released when he turned 21. Joseph Kallinger was sentenced to life imprisonment where he attempted to take his own life a number of times, including setting himself on fire. His mental heath deteriorated behind bars and he was transferred to a mental hospital in Trenton, New Jersey, where he died of an epileptic seizure on 26 March, 1996.
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Cat does say that Sansa shouldn't inherit Winterfell when she and Robb are discussing about the succession. It's nothing to do with Sansa and more to do with her marriage to Tyrion and how he mustn't be allowed in anyway to take Winterfell. Even after her escaping there is no guarantee of any such news reaching to Brotherhood about Sansa's marriage being unconsummated and it's unlikely Sansa is going to meet Stoneheart. She also brings up Arya as a potential claimant when Robb says that he is passing it to Jon. Arya is her first choice and when Robb reminds her that she is dead then Catelyn brings up the distant cousins to the Starks in Vale. No where it is mentioned that she doesn't want Arya to be queen because she will hate it. She has no issues with any of her daughters inheriting Winterfell. The case with Sansa is that she fears just like Robb that Lannisters will use her to take the North and so she focuses on Arya until Robb brings up her possible death. Catelyn does speak for Sansa when Robb refuses to trade her with Jaime but later after Tyrion marries her, she agrees with Robb about not allowing Sansa to inherit Winterfell.
(post referenced)
Sansa being in the hands of the Lannisters is the key issue. Them controlling Winterfell through her and her potential child by marital rape. That's why she encourages Robb to name an alternative heir. She is neither endorsing disinheriting Sansa entirely (which is not legally possible), nor is she pleased to see Jon placed ahead of either of her daughters in the line of inheritance because - unlike naming a distant relative as heir - Jon cannot be moved out of the line of inheritance again once he is legitimized. Because she actually does care about her daughters' inheritance. She says "the Imp" must not get his hands on Winterfell. Not Sansa.
Sansa is windely known to have escaped the Lannisters. Tyrion is wanted for regicide and kinslaying. He's plausibly not long for this world. Lady Stoneheart would not hesitate to kill him on sight, neither would Robb have. Unconsumated or not. "She'd be a widow then, and free." It's no longer the same issue.
Besides, it's not about the inheritance of Winterfell, mainly.
Catelyn is not against her daughters inheriting Winterfell, but I sincerely doubt she would want to crown any of her daughters right now? When Winterfell is in Bolton hands, the Lannisters and Freys yet control the Riverlands and the vast majority of the Northern army has been destroyed and it's almost winter. She counseled Robb to kneel, to avoid more death. She does not care about Northern independence at the expense of life and safety.
What's the point of that ugly crown? Why would she want it on Arya's head right now? So her eleven-year-old can become a target for whoever next wants to sit the Iron Throne and doesn't want to let go of the North? I doubt it.
You don't have to agree with my assessment, but I actually have solid reasons for it.
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I am not a jew, I can’t have an opinion about antisemitism, so I keep my mouth shut.
I am not a POC, I can’t have an opinion about racism, so I keep my mouth shut.
Are you Ukrainian? No? So stfu about not Russians and Putin only. They say about poor Russian soldiers and how russian soldiers didn’t want to go and kill. Say it to six years old boy, who now has grey hair, because Russian soldiers raped his mother eleven days and forced boy to watch. Now he doesn’t speak. Do you want to send money to his therapy?
Do you wanna help those girls, who now live in Poland and were raped for months? They have no teeth, because Russian soldiers took them all off. Why? Nobody knows. By the way, the oldest one is fourteen years old.
Do you wanna come to graves, where now are dead people, while families, who wanted survive and they just drove away with their children, but Russian soldiers killed them all, just because they wanted to. Civilians. Children. Babies. Old people. Women. Just because it’s funny.
Do you wanna read what Russian wrote about Ukrainians and talked? Do you wanna learn Ukrainian history? You notice, that all our existing, Russians wanted to kill us, wanted destroy our nation, our language, our people. Not Putin, because there were nobPutin. He didn’t exist.
Now they do some protest just because they are scared of mobilization. When we were killed, raped and tortured, they didn’t care at all.
Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell about groups in telegram where thousands Russians laughed about raped Ukrainian baby. 8 months old baby.
As I said, unfollow me, if you really don’t care about Ukrainians.
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grandma why
When I Worked At The Museum (news at eleven), an older woman was leading her little grandson around the European galleries. The child is extremely interested in all of the paintings, asking very spirited questions. What's this one about? What's THIS one about? The grandmother is happily answering them, and when she doesn't know, she checks the wall labels and relays her findings.
Then she gets to The Rape of Tamar.
"What's this one about?" asks the boy, eagerly. There's already a knife involved in this painting. He doesn't need to know the very, very awful Old Testament details. The grandmother looks very, very panicked.
"Uh, he's doing a bad thing," she says, and quickly moves on.
Nice save, I think, admiring the dodge.
They get to the wall I'm leaned against.
"What's this one about?" asks the boy, very happily distracted by the 10 foot painting on the opposite wall.
It's a painting of Christ and his Apostles. It's by El Greco, and it's huge. The grandmother, already exhausted from nearly having to explain incestuous sexual assault to a seven year old, turns to me and has an idea.
"Why don't you ask her?"
The boy looks up at me and my uniform. I look back much like a deer in the headlights.
"What's this one about?" asks the boy, excited.
It's not a question of whether or not I know. I do know what it's about. I've taken art history classes in college. I've read the wall labels. No, my issue is this:
I do not know the denomination of the kid, whether he even has
I do not know the denomination of the grandmother, whether she even has one
I am very, very Jewish
I will make no assumptions but
HOW DO I EXPLAIN ANYTHING ABOUT CHRIST IN A WAY THAT'S SECULAR BUT NON-OFFENSIVE.
"So, Christ was someone who was magic, and he collected lots of magic friends, and they went around solving a lot of problems for people, and sometimes they saw the future -- and this is one about them seeing the future--"
The kid found it cool, so I think I managed.
Sorry you nearly had to explain the Rape of Tamar to a seven year old, ma'am.
EPILOGUE:
Also overheard in the same galleries:
"Dad, what's a Virgin?"
"Ahahahaha what's a virgin....um"
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