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bellaxgiornata · 7 months

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I Can't Lose You [part two]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.5k

Summary (slightly updated now): The night doesn't go as planned after being tasked by Amanda to seduce a rival drug lord in order to seal the deal for claim to more territory for the Kinsellas. When Michael finds out from his brother what happened, he's not happy with you for following Amanda's orders. Not only is he determined to get revenge on Titan, but he's even more determined to finally get the pair of you out of his family's business.

Warnings/tags: 18+; light angst, overprotective Mikey, love confession, smut

a/n: So this one shot turned into a short mini series. Who would've thought? Feedback is always appreciated! The first part and following parts can be found here.

Tag List: @danzer8705 @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @shiorimakibawrites @wkndwlff @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza (kept everyone from the first one so if you'd like to be added or removed please let me know!)

Renewed rage was coursing white hot through Michael’s veins as he stopped before the front door of Amanda and Jimmy’s house. As soon as he’d made his way down your drive after that enlightening conversation with you–one that he had been very reluctant to leave–and saw their house at the end of the street, Michael had seen red. Immediately he’d become pissed off all over again at what Amanda had set you up to do tonight. It had been far beyond out of line for her to order you to do what she had, and he had every intention of making sure Amanda damn well knew that.

She’d never try to whore you out again for a job when he was done with her.

Raising a fist, he began to furiously and rapidly bang against the door, his knuckles stinging from the impact. He didn’t let up with his pounding, either. He stood on their front porch taking out some of his fury on the heavy wooden door until he heard the click of the lock in between slams of his fist. Only then did he stop, his shoulders heaving with his sharp, frenzied breaths as his brother swung the door open. The expression on Jimmy’s face as he eyed Michael’s livid one made it apparent that he wasn’t remotely surprised by his visit.

“Wondered what took ya so damn long to show up,” Jimmy said plainly. “Figured you’d be here fumin’ at some point after I told ya what happened.”

“Went to see if she was alrigh’ first since ya said she was hurt,” Michael grunted out, roughly pushing past his brother and making his way inside. “Can’t fuckin’ believe ya went along with that shite plan. Absolutely fuckin’ ridiculous.”

“Figured ya knew what was goin’ on tonight,” Jimmy replied, closing the door after his brother. “Amanda never said otherwise.”

Michael spun on his heel, his jaw clenching. “I'd have never agreed to that and ya both know it. Now Amanda’s goin’ to reap the consequences of her actions,” he grit out. “‘Cause ‘m’not lettin’ this fuckin’ slide. So where the fuck is she?”

“She’s just–”

“I’m right here, Michael,” Amanda said, cutting her husband off as she sauntered out of the kitchen, her heels clicking along the floor with each step. “And there’s no need for all the hostility.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed at the sight of her, his back straightening. The flat and uninterested look on her face had his temper flaring even more. She looked as if she couldn't have cared remotely about the danger she had put you in this evening or the way you'd been hurt. That had the corner of his left eye twitching as he glared dangerously back at her across the entryway.

He certainly wasn't going to leave until he made her understand what a huge mistake she'd made this evening.

“No need?” he ground out, taking a threatening step towards her. “Are ya fuckin’ jokin’, Amanda?”

Amanda’s own eyes narrowed to slits in return, her arms crossing over her chest as she kicked a hip out. “I sent her out on a job, Mikey,” she replied firmly. “‘Cause that’s what she does for this family. Jobs that need to be done. Same as anyone else. And we needed that northern expansion, ya already know that. We’ve got more product than we can push in the territory we already run. We need more buyers if we're goin’ to be bringin’ in any more cash.”

Michael’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles still stinging from where he’d pounded them against the door. It was taking all of his willpower not to start taking swings at Amanda with all the anger burning inside of him. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t imagining knocking that smug look off of her face at her words. Because she’d willingly put you in danger all for the sake of a chance at making more money.

Your safety was non-negotiable in this business when it came to Michael. Amanda had always known that. It was something that had always pissed her off, causing her jealousy to flare up whenever he brought it up during meetings, putting his foot down on jobs she'd try to send you on that he knew wouldn't be safe. Ones he took instead. Yet she often tried to find ways to poke at that by putting you in situations he didn’t agree with but couldn't rightly counter. All because she was jealous that he’d been in love with you for all of these years and not her, leaving her to ‘settle’ for Jimmy instead. And thankfully nothing serious had ever happened from her bullshit schemes–until now.

“We need the expansion, yeah,” Michael agreed, tone low and venomous, “but that wasn’t how we were talkin’ ‘bout gettin’ it. Ya already know that, Amanda. Ya went behind my back and set this up yourself.”

“Because we had a last minute meetin’ practically fall in our lap!” Amanda snapped, throwing her hands out wide in exasperation. “What would ya have wanted me to do, Michael? Let the opportunity to negotiate slip between my damn fingers? Is that it?”

“I expect ya to make the right fuckin’ call!” he roared back. “Ya should’ve sent me in to negotiate! That was the plan all along! I was supposed to handle Titan– not her!”

Amanda rolled her eyes, scoffing loudly as she did. That only further pissed him off, his teeth grinding together as the corner of his eye began to twitch faster. The control he had on his rage was beginning to slip with every word that came out of her mouth.

“Ya were unavailable ‘cause ya were with Anna earlier today,” Amanda shot back. “I needed someone right then–and it needed to be a Kinsella or someone damn near close. Titan would’ve never negotiated with anyone too low rankin’ in the business. And we both know Viking is too hot-headed to handle negotiations. Your brother here isn't much for it, either.”

“Hey!” Jimmy cried out, offended. “That’s a load of shite, Amanda, and you know it!”

Her head darted in her husband’s direction, her eyes cold as she snapped at him. “Stay outta this, Jimmy.”

Michael noticed the way his brother’s composure changed, his body tensing at her order. Though it wasn’t a surprise to him when he said nothing further, quietly seething across the room instead. Jimmy usually always backed down to Amanda, which was partly how she wound up in the position she was in now. Especially because Michael wanted to get you and himself out of the business; running it was the last thing he’d ever want.

“Then why’d ya send her in like a cheap fuckin’ whore, Amanda?” Michael growled, taking another threatening step towards her. “How was that a good fuckin’ plan? Ya could've sent her there just to make a deal, plain and simple. Ya know she’s smart.”

“Come off it, Michael,” Amanda shot in distaste. “It's practically common knowledge that the Titan loves his pussy. I didn’t ask her to fuck him, I only asked her to show interest. Get him comfortable enough so he'd fold to our demands easier.”

“Yeah?” Michael asked, his voice low as he stalked steadily towards her.

He caught the slight flicker of fear that briefly flashed in her eyes at his approach.

A part of him delighted in the sight of it after what she'd done to you–what she'd let happen to you. Something that never should have happened.

Good , he thought, lip curling back into a sneer. You damn well know what I'm capable of. You should be afraid after what you knowingly did tonight.

“If that was the case,” he continued evenly, aware of her arms crossing back over her chest, her own shoulders squaring as she tried to hide the growing fear in her eyes at his continued advance, “then ya could've dressed in that short little dress and pushed your tits into his face yourself, Amanda. Should've played the role o’ whore all on your own if ya want the expansion so badly. Ya claim you’re a Kinsella, yeah?”

Amanda stumbled a step backwards as Michael neared, lowering his face down to hers. Her back hit the wall though, leaving her stuck trying to hold onto the facade of strength while he towered over her.

“Better yet,” he continued quietly, every ounce of anger still very apparent in his words as he invaded her space, “ya could've fucked him yourself. Could’ve let him put his fuckin’ hands all over ya. Why not make him fold to your demands by suckin’ his cock all on your own instead of sendin’ someone else to do it? Shoulda gotten your own hands fuckin’ dirty for once.”

“I’m married, Michael,” she weakly shot back.

A bitter, humorless laugh slipped out of him immediately. Out of all the excuses she could have used, that was the one she was going to go with?

“Your marriage is barely hangin’ by a thread,” Michael retorted. “And your vows sure as shit never stopped ya from fuckin’ ‘round before. It’s ‘cause ya don’t have the goddamn nerve for this business. Ya sit here in your house bossin’ the rest o’ us ‘round, doin’ your biddin’ and playin’ innocent housewife. But the truth is ya don’t really have the stomach for this. Not when it really matters. Ya never fuckin’ did.”

Amanda scoffed, shaking her head. “That’s bullshit, Michael. I don’t do the jobs ‘cause that’s what the rest o’ ya are for.”

Blind fury shot through Michael at her words. Without hesitation, his right hand flew forwards until his palm slammed forcefully against the wall mere inches from Amanda’s head. Satisfaction flooded Michael as she visibly flinched in response, her eyes flying just over his shoulder. No doubt looking to Jimmy for help. But Michael knew his brother well enough. He wasn’t going to say a goddamn thing. He wasn’t going to intervene.

“We do not and have never issued orders for our associates to fuck anyone, Amanda,” Michael growled viciously. “Or to even give someone very dangerous like the Titan that fuckin’ idea only to put our associates in the position where they would either have to or face the fuckin’ consequences of embarrassin’ someone so powerful.” His hand slammed loudly against the wall in his rage and Amanda once again flinched. “Ya damn well knew what was goin’ to happen when ya asked her to do that tonight!”

“Well she–she works for me, Michael,” Amanda countered. “She’s mine to send out as I see fit. She could’ve–”

“YOU DO NOT OWN HER!” Michael roared, ramming his fist into the wall beside her head for emphasis and watching as she shrunk before him. His entire body felt like it was burning with his fury now. “And ya will never send her on a job like that again! Am I fuckin’ clear , Amanda?”

“Ya aren’t the one in charge, Michael!” Amanda fired back.

Furious, Michael pushed off of the wall and took a few steps back, turning and maneuvering around Jimmy who was watching him in silent curiosity. Reaching up, he grabbed onto the long, decorative mirror hanging on the wall beside the front door. Effortlessly he removed it from the hooks before turning back around and throwing it forward. It smashed on the floor just beside Amanda’s feet shattering loudly as glass spilled forth and clattered all over the floor next to her designer heels.

His glare returned to her shocked face, his own set firm as a hand rose to cover her mouth. He needed to make her understand that she’d crossed a line. She needed to know she couldn’t fuck with you like she thought she could. That she didn't hold the kind of power she thought she did.

“Let's get one thing straight. Fuckin’ a Kinsella doesn’t make ya one,” he ground out. “I could throw ya from this business just as easily as that goddamn mirror, Amanda. Step out o’ line with her one more time like that, and I promise ya, no one’ll be listenin’ to a fuckin’ word ya say anymore. Am I clear ?”

“Fine,” Amanda bit out between her teeth.

“Don’t fuckin’ test me on this again,” he warned, pointing a threatening finger at her. “Ya won’t like what happens if ya do, I can promise ya that.”

Michael turned, focusing on his brother who’d remained silent throughout most of the confrontation. There was still one other issue that needed to be dealt with while he was here. Judging by the look of resignation that washed over Jimmy’s face, he already knew what was coming.

“This won’t go unanswered,” Michael told his brother. “O’Brien can’t go beatin’ our associates and gettin’ away with it. Ya know that, brother.”

“Aye,” Jimmy muttered, nodding his head. “Figured you’d be sayin’ that.”

“We are not startin’ a war with him!” Amanda cried out. “That’s the last thing we need right now!”

Michael’s head whipped over his shoulder in her direction, his eyes shooting her a dark glare that had her mouth closing. “Ya don’t have a damn say in this one, Amanda. Keep your damn mouth shut,” he ordered. His attention returned back to Jimmy who was standing there waiting for him to continue. “I’m takin’ him down for what he did to her. Are ya with me or not, brother?”

Jimmy’s eyes fell down to his feet, a hand running over his beard as he mulled over the question for a moment. Gradually he nodded again, his gaze slowly returning to meet Michael’s.

“Yeah,” he replied. “‘Course I’m with ya, brother. We’ll take him down and find a way to take his territory with it, one way or another.”

“Good,” Michael stated, ignoring the way Amanda was clearly fuming from across the entryway. “We’ll figure out the details later. Just need to know ya have my back on this.”

“I always got your back, brother,” Jimmy assured him. “Ya know that.”

Michael stepped towards him, reaching a hand out and appreciatively clapping his brother on the shoulder. His anger was still there, burning inside of him, but he was grateful for Jimmy right now. At least he could be counted on and trusted, even if he wished he’d put a bullet in the Titan’s head the moment he tried to lay a finger on you earlier. That’s what he would’ve done.

“Ya headin’ back over there?” Jimmy asked. “To her place?”

“Yeah,” Michael replied, ignoring the irritated huff Amanda let out. “Had to come over here and deal with this mess first. Which I…really didn’t want to do after talkin’ with her. Apparently she’s felt the same way all this time and I’ve just been…blind to it.”

Jimmy sent his brother a small smile, clapping him on the shoulder with a hand in return. “‘Bout damn time ya fools took your heads outta your asses,” he teased. “Go on then,” he said, gesturing his head towards the door. “Go get your girl, Mikey.”

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella #kin rte

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primitiveside · 8 months

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Character Info Sheet

name: richard b. riddick

name meaning: richard - ruler, leader, king. riddick - one who comes from the clear, smooth fields.

⠀⠀⠀i'll take a long creative liberty reach and combine the meaning into "the king of vacant space". space prison legend legacy. you understand .

alias/es: more commonly known as "riddick". (by others) Big Evil, Sir Shiv-A-Lot, Shiner, Vampire.

ethnicity: unknown to him. equivalence of half black and half white.

one picture icon you like best of your chara:

three h/cs you've never told anyone:

only because i haven't gotten around to sharing them yet

⠀⠀⠀he's acid burns on his legs, dribbled there from the mouths of the Spitfires that he cleared out in his rookie job as a Sweeper as his time as a Company Ranger

⠀⠀⠀he's actually pretty self-conscious about showing his eyes to civilians. it's a body mod that separates him from the human race, chosen out of desperation to live in a lightless, hostile enviornment.

⠀⠀⠀accustomed to a perpetual state of performing at his peak in intelligence, physicality, and mettle, if and on the rare occasion riddick sustains peace for too long he becomes inclined to find a way to put himself into danger. to TEST himself. i.e. having a comfortable set up while he's off-grid living on the lam, but seeking new, hostile territory unnecessarily

three things your character likes doing in their free time:

riddick does very little if it's not necessary in nature, sans the usual vices of a stiff drink or sharing a bed (or any other various surface) with another warm body, so these are more like things he must do (circumstantially) that he actually enjoys doing:

⠀⠀⠀watch animals. study them, yes, to learn their patterns for the purpose of having game available, but more than that. animals make sense to him. survive, eat. manipulation, backstabbing, monetary greed - that's all missing there. it's absolute old-man behaviour.

⠀⠀⠀groom himself.

⠀⠀⠀make traps.

eight people your character likes / loves:

...we'll go with "tolerate or greater". from canon: he respects and admires carolyn fry & abu al-walid, and has a familial protective side for jack b. badd

⠀⠀⠀likes johns (priceforeverything), in our "carolyn and johns survive dark planet" au.

⠀⠀⠀ has a respect for bertha (umbrellamedic), which is usually as close to being "liked" by riddick as it gets

two things your character regrets:

⠀��⠀living instead of carolyn fry

⠀⠀⠀not raising jack

two phobias your character has:

⠀⠀⠀being forgotten/left indefinitely in cryosleep.

⠀⠀⠀being buried alive.

tagged by @paramounticebound ty

tagging @natterghast , @umbrellamedic , @reel-to-real-emporium

#he loves to jaw jack and to make you feel afraid because that's all he has. 「 headcanon & info 」#it's pointless. 「 dash games 」

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hookaroo · 9 months

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Laden of the Torn (15 of 25)

AO3 link Catch up on tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Tagging @priscilla9993 @cocohook38 @killian-whump <3

***

If Killian had ever believed in karma or some sort of universal justice, the events of the past decade should have fully driven all such notions from his head. And yet, as he was surrounded by unfriendly simians wielding a variety of menacing weaponry a few days later, he found himself appealing to whatever spark of faith still lingered within. Risking his own life to save the child of a creature he barely knew--and a non-human one, at that--what act could be more worthy of a breakthrough in his own daughter’s predicament, however small? This time, surely?

He spread his arms slowly to highlight the lack of weapons. On the advice of Favor, he avoided meeting anyone’s gaze directly as he took stock of the Less warriors. They did not appear substantially different from their First counterparts: a wide variety of shapes and colors, generally sized somewhere between a cat and an average dog. Most with long, expressive tails but some without. The dozen-or-so monkeys watched him with caution but did not appear intimidated by his height.

Focusing on the razor-crested walls in the background, Killian addressed no one in particular with the words he’d been coached to say.

“Will the honorable Less Clan permit a lone member of the Torn entrance to your lands and an audience with Chief Lack?”

The reaction was mixed. Some shook their weapons and bared their fangs with hoots and hisses; others looked offended, derisive, or even mildly amused. A voice from off to Killian’s left rang above the others, and he turned to identify the speaker.

“You use our false name, assigned by our enemies, so it is no surprise you emerge from their cursed territory. Why should the Prime entertain an emissary sent by the Last?”

This Less warrior--or was it Prime? Gods, as if things weren’t confusing enough without each tribe having separate, derogatory names for each other--was one of the bigger animals Killian had seen of either group, with bronze fur and skin, markedly hunched shoulders, and canines the length of a man’s finger. If troop numbers weren’t enough to intimidate a trespasser, this creature alone might do the trick. Killian continued to avoid direct eye contact as he carefully crafted his reply.

“Your rivals… the Last… have indeed given me authority to negotiate on their behalf. I am entirely impartial in the matter and wish only to resolve the issue so I may be on my way.”

The toothy one looked to a comrade, who had been edging closer, peering intently at Killian’s truncated arm. This second Less warrior was less conspicuous, though its remarkable protruding nose gave it a face worthy of a double-take. Killian caught a curious glint in its eyes before it turned away and said,

“Lack will wish to see this Torn fool, regardless of any negotiations that may take place.”

Murmurs of assent came from every direction, and it seemed that this was enough of a majority to not require any further discussion. With far less chaos than the First had displayed, the ring of Less monkeys tightened to become an efficient escort, most at Killian’s back or flanks, weapons at the ready, with only two smaller members up front to lead the way. Pointed sticks prodded Killian into a faster march than he would have preferred, given the labyrinth of blades to navigate. At least he no longer had the ball and chain dragging along behind him, threatening to trip him with every step. Wryly, Killian wondered if the Less/Prime had the same affinity for insect-mediated wound care as their First/Last cousins. Hoping he would not need to find out, he picked his way deeper into hostile territory.

***

Chief Lack, leader of the Less Clan, would tower over Favor if the two stood side by side. But his most striking feature was the apparent inspiration for his name, and what Killian had taken to be idle chatter suddenly made a lot more sense. In fact, he wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Blackbeard had somehow heard about this detail and schemed to use the knowledge to his full advantage.

The intimidating ape loped through the clearing on three legs, holding his handless left forearm tucked against his chest. His shoulders and upper arms were thicker than even Killian's were, and covered in long orange hair that rippled with every movement. He had a wide, flat face with the most human-looking eyes Killian had seen yet, and he was using them to peer intently at the alien in their midst as he chewed casually on a woody green stalk in his mouth.

Lack reached a smooth stone shelf in the center of everything and clambered on top. He sat heavily, eyes still judging Killian, and plucked the plant from between his teeth.

“It is not often I meet a creature similarly tested by the gods,” rumbled Lack, gripping the stalk with his feet and beginning to strip away the tough outer fibers with his single hand. Killian could not help but envy the way his flexible toes made up for the lack of five fingers. “Have you been challenged since birth, or did your affliction begin later?”

Killian answered with practiced patience. “My hand was taken by an enemy, quite a long time ago now.”

“That's more we have in common, then.” Lack bit off a piece of the tender inner shoot and chewed pensively as his gaze continued to bore into Killian. His eyes lingered on the empty wrist held casually at Killian’s side. “How many Warrior Ants?”

Killian released a breath of mirthless laughter. “Far too many.” He nodded at the ape’s corresponding limb. “And you?”

Accurate or not, the translator potion injected a note of bitter humor in Lack’s reply. “More than we had available. A mistake we vowed never to repeat.”

“I'm sorry,” Killian winced, entirely genuine despite the reason for the confrontation. “I can imagine what that must have been like.”

With a lazy flick of his limber toes, Lack dropped a length of emerald husk to the ground. “Indeed. I believe you are one of the few who truly can. But it appears we are both doing quite well now.” He took another mouthful of plant matter. “Let that fact provide the answer to your inevitable question. I allow both ally and enemy to name me by my weakness because it highlights my strength. I can lead just as effectively without a hand, and thus my foes are intimidated and my clan proud to serve under Chief Lack.”

“Oh, is that the inspiration for the name? Here I was, thinking it must describe the state of your heart. Given your willingness to enslave a child.”

Killian risked derailing the so-far civil conversation with his sarcastic reproach, but he needed Lack to know he was not afraid of him. The big clan leader did not immediately react to the accusation.

“What do your people call you?”

“For a long time, I was called Hook. For many of the same reasons as you just mentioned. And as a bonus, it let everyone know exactly the sort of danger they would be facing should they be foolish enough to cross me.”

Lack did not appear impressed by the veiled threat. He took his time scraping the last of the pulp from the stalk, then tossed the empty husk to the ground. Idly scratching at the back of his neck, he bared his teeth in a threatening grin.

“So, Hook-with-no-hook, I would guess by your coloration that you are among the elders of your species. For one possessed of so much life experience, you are surprisingly foolish to involve yourself in affairs you could not possibly understand.”

“It all seems quite clear to me,” snarled Killian. “It doesn’t take a sage to recognize evil.”

Some of the onlookers bristled at the statement, but Lack remained as cool as ever.

“Typical Torn arrogance. Your morals do not apply here. And you have no right to judge us based on Torn standards.”

Killian was in no mood for a philosophical debate. “The bottom line is, I am here on behalf of Favor to retrieve the princess; my reasons for doing so don’t really matter.”

“They do if we can persuade you to see our side and give up your impossible quest.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Killian kept his tone light, but his eyes were hard. “As it turns out, I have a soft spot for children who have been separated from their parents.”

“The child belongs to us now. It has been preordained. If you insist on becoming involved, you will regret it.”

“I have a long list of regrets. I guarantee this won’t be one of them.” Killian sighed and stretched his neck, feeling the pull of ant jaws where deeply embedded fishhooks had torn his flesh. Not a great starting condition for a duel. “How does this work, then; do I officially declare my intentions, or…?”

“Suppose we save ourselves some trouble? Whatever paltry sum the Last have offered you as a reward, we can easily triple it if you will forget this whole thing and be on your way. As the superior and soon-to-be ruling clan, it goes without saying that we have access to treasures well beyond that of our rivals.”

“Not interested. And if you’re truly serious about not wasting time, you’ll accept the fact that my mind is made up.”

Lack pulled a burr from his matted arm hair before responding,

“You are declaring yourself to be the official champion of the Last?”

“Aye,” confirmed Killian.

“Very well. Then allow me to introduce you to the champion of the Prime Clan. Notch of the Prime, step forward and greet your opponent.”

Predictably, it was the saber-toothed monkey who swaggered out of the crowd to face off with Killian. He was not the biggest of the warriors, but with those fangs, he would never truly be unarmed. Unsurprising, then, that he would be their top choice for champion.

“I believe our paths crossed on my way here.” Killian continued to survey his opponent, trying to avoid focusing on the obvious teeth and look for other details, strengths or weaknesses he should be aware of. By simian standards, Notch appeared well-nourished, muscular, and in his prime. Any scars he may carry were concealed by sleek, tawny fur. He had a slender tail that would help with balance and possibly entangling limbs, but Killian wasn't too concerned about its potential to be a weapon. The claws on the monkey's fingers and toes did not seem long enough to inflict any serious damage. As long as Killian managed to avoid the dagger-like teeth, he should be able to overpower the lighter creature in a wrestling match.

“Well then. Shall we get this over with?”

Notch fixed him with a murderous stare. “Only if you are prepared to suffer a quick defeat.”

“And then... let me guess: I become the main course at your victory celebration.”

“The victor chooses his prize,” sneered Lack, and Killian thought he saw a hungry glint in the eyes of the Less audience. He smirked right back at them.

“Just making sure of the stakes. Good to know exactly what it is I will be depriving you of when I win.”

Bluster for bluster. Total confidence meets utter fearlessness. Show the enemy no uncertainty while attempting to inspire doubt in them... a routine so very familiar.

“Quake? You checked him thoroughly for weapons?”

Positioned just beside the stone platform, the black-haired ape that had also served as an escort stood leaning on his knuckles, alert and menacing. He was smaller than only Lack himself, and Killian thanked the gods that he wasn't about to face him in battle instead of Notch. He would be far less confident in his chances against that mass of solid muscle.

“Yes, Chief Lack. He was unarmed and carried only this map.” He produced the worn parchment from beneath his hind foot and handed it to his chieftain. Lack gave it a cursory glance and then tossed it aside scornfully.

“Soon to be pitifully outdated.”

Killian was watching Notch warily in case he decided to try and take him by surprise. But he addressed Lack as he tried to conserve his adrenaline for the battle's onset.

“I have your word? You will surrender the princess to me if I defeat your champion?”

Lack bared his teeth. “As I said before, the victor determines the prize.”

“Before your gods?” persisted Killian, and Lack inclined his head.

“The gods are always watching.”

The evasive answer had to be good enough, for not a heartbeat went by before Lack grunted,

“You may proceed.”

Notch was on Killian like a furry cannonball, and despite his attempts at preparation, he was immediately gasping for breath as forty pounds of fury knocked the wind out of his lungs. He struck out blindly at his attacker, but the monkey was remarkably agile and avoided all but a glancing blow as he rappelled over to Killian's other side. Killian saw teeth flashing toward his face and ducked, again lashing out with both arms and trying to catch hold of the slippery beast. Long fangs slashed his temple as they flew past. His wrist connected with fur-covered muscle, changing its trajectory only slightly as a flailing tail whipped around his upper arm and secured Notch to his target. With some quick and effortless acrobatics, Notch swung himself over to Killian's opposite shoulder and immediately zeroed in on his face again, intent on either blinding him or ripping out his throat with those impressive canines. Killian's only hope was to catch hold of his adversary and use his greater mass to pin him, or as a last resort, try and break his neck.

Killian managed to seize a grasping back paw, and he yanked downwards with as much force as he could muster. Notch squeaked in pain but dug his front claws into Killian's chest, raking long scratches down his ribs as he tried to retain his grip. He sank his fangs into the muscle of Killian’s upper thigh, dangerously close to the vital blood vessels located there. Instinctively, before the fiery pain had even had time to register, Killian snatched at the monkey’s scruff, using his stump to pummel the creature's face as he searched desperately for the hinge that would force the jaw open. Elusive as ever, Notch abruptly released his hold, twisted out of Killian’s grip, and launched himself away.

Surrounding the combatants, the spectators remained mostly quiet, riveted by the battle but showing little in the way of reaction or support for their champion. The silence was a bit unnerving for Killian, who was accustomed to the reactions of his vocal supporters--or detractors, as the case may be. This complete stillness was rare.

Killian had time for one deep breath, and then Notch was scaling him once again, dodging an off-balance kick from a wounded leg. Switching tactics, the clever monkey did not ascend in a straight line, but leapt in zig-zag patterns, sometimes dropping by a foot or two before springing upward again in a new direction. He was unbelievably fast, and with no hope of anticipating his next move, Killian was forced to rely on pure chance to allow him to grab a hold. He had been trying to keep his left arm elevated, a small barrier for the climber and meager protection for his targeted throat. But Notch began nipping at his legs and torso, quick bites that broke the skin just as often as merely bruising, and he was forced to return to ineffective clubbing as a deterrent.

Now throbbing and bleeding in a dozen places, a frustrated Killian dropped to his knees to make himself a smaller target. Notch's fur slipped through his fingers yet again, but as the monkey springboarded off his legs straight for his face, Killian succeeded in snagging a miniature hand. His momentum shifted, Notch still successfully whipped his tail upward and wrapped it tightly around Killian's neck. At the same time, the enraged animal released an ear-splitting screech, lunging for the trapped paw. Killian pulled with his right arm and pushed with his left, hoping to dislodge the tail squeezing his throat. But then those savage fangs were tearing into his hand, grinding at the bones at the base of his thumb, gnawing viciously. With an agonized snarl, Killian again focused his efforts on the powerful jaws damaging his hand. He'd lost his grip on Notch's paw, which was currently clutching his wrist along with its counterpart, and no matter how hard he struck him, his attacker was latched firmly, determined and impervious to any pain by the high of bloodlust.

White-hot, cramping anguish radiated up Killian's arm, past his elbow, and he gritted his teeth, burying terrifying mental images of life without a functional thumb. In desperation, he flung himself forward onto his elbows, banging Notch's head against the packed earth. The little bugger only clamped down harder, his tail squeezing with all of his strength. Beginning to feel lightheaded from the relentless assault on his hand, Killian growled and muscled his left forearm into the scant space between his other arm and the monkey wrapped around it. Even if he could not tear his tormentor free, he was finally in a position to use his weight against him. Killian wriggled his arm forward, pressing down on the monkey's chest, seeking his throat. Notch thrashed and clawed, struggling to breathe even as his fangs dug stubbornly deeper. With one final heave of effort, Killian's stump pounded against Notch’s chin. He felt the vibration lance through his thoroughly mauled hand.

Killian's breath hissed through his teeth as he leaned down harder. He could feel the grip around his neck beginning to slacken, Notch’s struggles becoming more feeble, although his teeth continued to grind away spitefully. Finally, just when Killian began to worry he might lose consciousness before the monkey did, Notch twitched once and then went limp. His tail slithered down to the dirt, his limbs lost their grip, and even the tension in his ferocious jaws drained away, giving Killian a bit more confidence that his opponent was not merely faking. He still had to wriggle the four knife-like teeth out of his flesh, though, and no amount of quiet cursing made that process any easier.

The unnatural silence persisted as Killian sat back and attempted to catch his breath. His pounding heartbeat throbbed within his wounded hand. Blood trickled from each of the punctures and dripped off of his trembling fingers. Gingerly, Killian slipped his hand beneath his other arm, momentarily closing his eyes against the surging pain.

“Bring the princess,” he snarled. He heard nothing, and when he opened his eyes it was to find Lack holding up a commanding fist. The clan leader gestured toward the motionless form of Notch, and Killian could not read his expression. Two of the Less warriors slunk forward, keeping a cautious eye on Killian as they approached their fallen comrade.

“I didn't kill him.” Killian's voice held that edge of overexertion, post-battle fatigue and general done-with-everything-and-everyone prickliness. “But I heard no mention of ‘fight to the death,’ and I'm the clear victor here.”

“You are indeed,” confirmed Lack, much to Killian's relief. Had Lack indicated otherwise, he would have done what was necessary, but he would not have relished the task. He allowed the Less minions to drag Notch away for recovery.

“So bring me my prize.”

Lack shifted his position, never losing his casual demeanor. Though his expression was still hard to interpret, Killian did not like the devious glint in his eyes. “Let's discuss this prize of yours.”

“What is there to discuss? You know exactly what it is I want.”

“Yes, but I don't think you understand what it is you are asking for.”

Killian grimaced as invisible fangs continued to gleefully gnaw away at the bones and cartilage in his hand. “Seems straightforward enough to me. I defeated your champion. Now I’m taking Princess Puzzle back to her family.”

“One champion,” said Lack. “One prize.”

Killian's hand felt like it was about to explode. “Aye. And I'm only asking for one.”

Lack extended his pointer finger. “The princess’ freedom.” He paused dramatically, then held up a second finger. “Your freedom.”

He made a show of pretending to count the two digits, while Killian’s nausea grew at an alarming rate.

“Just in case hand signals do not properly translate, this means ‘two’ in the language of the clan.”

Killian lacked the energy for rage.

“Damn you,” he sighed. “I knew there would be something slimy about all of this. I wonder if your gods approve of your treachery.”

“There is nothing treacherous about it. I am merely listing your options. You can choose to let the princess go free, but then you are obligated to stay a prisoner. And a Last princess wandering alone in Prime territory… I believe the gods would call that fair game.” Pleased with himself, Lack leaned back on his hand and stump. “Of course, you are welcome to wage another battle. Should you defeat our second champion, you would be entitled to two prizes.”

At his leader’s side, Quake straightened almost imperceptibly, looking dangerously eager, confirming his rank. Going up against him would be a gamble at the best of times; chancing it now would be guaranteed suicide. Killian felt hollow, left with only the emotions he knew best: helplessness and failure. He’d been a fool to expect any other outcome.

“Can I take some time to decide?” he gritted out. “I’m not fit for combat right now anyway. Surely the Prime Clan has that much honor.”

Lack did not even hesitate. “We will allow you one night to recover. In the morning, you will make your final decision.” He shot a glance at a creature somewhere behind Killian. “Go with Patch. She will dress your wounds.”

Killian caught the hazy outline of a monkey sauntering toward him before he turned his attention back to the smug face of Chief Lack. “Let me see the princess. Please. If I return empty-handed tomorrow… I could at least tell her father she’s okay.”

It would be a very small consolation. But better than nothing. And he knew that for a fact.

Lack watched him for a moment. Perhaps he saw something haunted in Killian’s expression. Or maybe he was just confident that this impudent visitor had no chance of derailing their glorious future, and felt generous as a result. “Fine. After you’ve been tended to, I will send escorts.” He made an eerily humanlike smirk. “You can tell her father that she will be well cared for. After all, she has a very important purpose to fulfill.”

Despite everything, that statement was enough to make Killian bristle, and he came close to lurching to his feet and tackling the ginger giant right then. But even the very beginnings of tension in his arm reminded him why that would have been so extraordinarily foolhardy. He squashed his fury, saving it for later, just in case. And then his violent imaginings were interrupted by a paw on his elbow, and he decided to deprive Lack of the outburst he was likely expecting. Without a word, he struggled to his feet and turned his back on the pedestalled evil.

#ouat fanfiction #laden of the torn #wish hook #rescue mission #taunts #fighting match #animal bites #hand injuries #blood #tricked #hollow victory #hopelessness

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writingalterras · 11 months

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One Song for Every OC Tag

Thank you @rickie-the-storyteller for tagging me!

Rules; Assign a song that fits the vibe of your OC.

A few of my OC’s originated from music I was listening to at the time, so this should be very fun.

Lord Valthoraxe - Once Upon A Time… A Monster (King Stephen)

Valthoraxe is a broken creature, who has gone through more pain and trauma than any of us could even fathom imagining going through. He’s mentally snapped several times, and has become a monster the world bows before in fear. This song portrays everything I could connect with him, with a perfect title to match. My book is his story, the story of how a great person descended into madness, rose to tyranny, and eventually fell. In the land of Alterra, there was Once Upon A Time… A Monster.

Sir James Honorborn - Sicilian Defense (Rok Nardin)

James is a very mysterious person, who seems like just another goofball side character, but is actually a terrifyingly powerful and immortal master of the arcane, with several spells that have taken him several centuries to write. This song has the same otherworldly charm I imagine him to have, while eventually rising to an energetic and powerful level.

DiamondMan - Selenica (King Stephen)

Diamond is one of the heads of NOVA, specifically NVO, and is a main character of the book. Diamond is actually based on another character from a very close friend of mine who is working with me on the sci-fi aspects of the story, so this song was chosen by him. In his own words, “It fits my character perfectly.”

The Heads of the NOVA Corporation - Virtual Armageddon (Kings & Creatures, Brandon Lau)

NOVA is the primary Sci-fi faction in my world, with 9 people leading it. NOVA is a problem solving company, be it inter-galactic travel through the complex NOVA-Gate Network of wormholes, to the hired extermination of hostile lifeforms. While being a neutral entity that’s held very highly in the public eye, it is also a machine of war that is ruthlessly efficient. This song captures the power and threat brought by it’s autonomous forces run by a nigh-sentient AI.

Melody - Absolute Territory (Ken Ashcorp)

Melody is just a fun little character I thought up, while listening to music and thinking, that will never appear in the final book. I went into more detail about her in a previous post, but in short; She is a half-elf shunned by her race and ends up making a deal with the tyrant, Lord Valthoraxe, for a set of magically enhanced clothing. The outfit vastly amplifies her magical abilities by syncing it up with whatever song she’s currently listening to. Naturally, she prefers to be listening to energetic and powerful songs that pop out, and this one in particular matches her new found self-confidence.

I’d love to write down more characters, but I currently only have the one wip, and these are the only fully fleshed out characters I have so far.

This was a lot of fun, I’ll be tagging these wonderful people to play along as well;

@orionsworldbuilding, @hayatheauthor, @author-a-holmes, @shiversdownyourspleen, and @raventsurara

#writers on tumblr #Spotify #writing #fantasy #novel #worldbuilding #creative writing #writeblr #tag game #one song for every oc tag #writeblr tag games

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satashiiwrites · 1 year

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Snippet Sunday

Tagged by the ever lovely @monsterrae1 for seven sentence snippet sunday. Thanks for the tag! Tagging @quietborderline @tkwritesdumbassassins @whimsyswastry @missanniewhimsy @outtoshatter @alyxmastershipper with no pressure and anyone else who wants to play along.

Since I yeeted the last part of Sleepless in LA and I’m done with this month’s chapter of Mana’olana…. How about a snippet from the upcoming chapter of The First Spectre which was supposed to be out this month but…. Well it’s not looking promising.

Snippet sunday banner by the ever-talented @radio-chatter.

Title: The First Spectre, Chapter 2: Eden Prime

Fandom: 911, 911 Lonestar Mass Effect Trilogy/Universe

Pairing: epically long slow burn Buddie (it’s not going to happen for >100k), assume canon 911 relationships will mostly eventually cross over including some Lonestar ones.

Fic Summary:

Thirty years after the mars ruins were discovered leading to the Charon Relay and twenty since the First Contact War, humanity is still striving to take its place amongst the Citadel Council as equals. Commander Evan “Buck” Buckley, the lone survivor of Akuze is nominated to become the first human Spectre.

When his test mission goes sideways, Buck uncovers a much larger threat against all sentient life. Can he convince the Council to prepare for war or will they ignore the dangers that are closing in?

A new cycle has begun. The Reapers are coming.

Tags/warnings: first draft territory. Science fiction AU, this is not a straight up fusion but if you’ve read anything else I’ve done you probably know what you’re in for. There will be character deaths (canon and NON-canon) but I will say Buddie and Christopher are safe as I don’t do letting them die permanently in stories. Space opera type hijinks including military war environment. This is going to be a very, very long fic.

Buck sees Diaz nod to Jenkins out of the corner of his eye even as Chimney announces they’ve arrived. “Ground team prepare for insertion.”

Bobby’s voice comes over the comms. “Good luck, Buck. Remember the beacon is your first priority.”

“Roger that. Thank you, Captain,” Buck replies and braces himself.

The airlock door opens and the pressure of the wind whipping around the Normandy presses against them then equalizes. They’re hovering two meters above the ground so they jump out, the jets in their boots slowing their descent enough that it’s not too rough of a landing but it still jolts Buck’s joints when he hits the ground. The Normandy pulls away and they get their first look at Eden Prime.

On the surface, Eden Prime is Earth-like in that there are trees and rock and sparse vegetation that looks like they’re somewhere in the North American Rockies. A few buildings rise above the tree line in the distance which according to Buck’s helmet HUD is about two kilometers away. They’ve been dropped far enough out from the target to be out of the immediate line of fire. but they’re going in mostly blind other than a map of the colony.

A quick scan of the LZ shows they are alone so Buck allows his HUD to calibrate to the new environment, getting feedback and intel such as relative direction and environmental feedback. Eden Prime has a breathable atmosphere with a slightly higher percentage level of oxygen to nitrogen but the air pressure difference makes its effects on human physiology negligible.

Wendell, silent until now, starts to head off to the left. “Where are you going, Spectre?”

“This colony has been hard hit and there’s likely to be hostiles everywhere,” the Turian inclines his head as he checks his rifle. “It would be best to keep our guard up and I move faster on my own. I’ll approach from the west and meet you at the beacon.”

Buck knows that he really can’t argue with their appointed babysitter and he’s not against splitting up given they have a lot of ground to cover. “Roger. We’ll approach the colony from the east.”

“I’ll feed you status updates but let’s keep the radio chatter to a minimum,” the Spectre says as he lopes across the clearing. With a wave, he disappears into an outcropping of rock.

“Commander?” Diaz asks, waiting for him to give an order.

“Let’s move out. PFC Jenkins, stick close—you’re our tour guide.”

“Devon, sir. It’s Devon.”

Buck doesn’t sigh in frustration but it’s a close call. He can see Diaz’s face though, and the sparkle in his eyes says he’s still laughing at Buck’s predicament. “Move out,” he orders and points to the east.

#The first spectre #911/mass effect au #buddie space opera #Endgame buddie #epic slow burn #snippet sunday #space opera au #military environment

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barrenclan · 2 years

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haha anyways au where pinepaw, slowly but surely, becomes really different, to the point where once he’s fully grown, cats start saying he’s worse then cranky old cootstorm; he always does his work with an odd, almost malfunctioned type of way, he always seems to be muttering under his breath, giving self conscious glares everywhere.. even when him and asphodel make up, he never seems trusting of his siblings at all. What’s seems to be worse to his clan is that he despises kittens; he’s never hostile to them, actually quite nice, but whenever the mere mention of a cat having kits or saying that cats need more kits in the clan seems to set him off, making him scrunch up his nose and get all mumbly.

It get’s so bad that even Slugpelt, who practically never showed a mere interest in her kit, awkwardly (and somewhat begrudgingly) asked Daffodil and Asphodel to go talk to him. After so much pressure, he finally snaps.

He goes off about the clan’s stupid obsession for more kits, even though the territory probably can’t sustain a bigger clan. About how much it sucked growing up, where cat’s were always expecting you to find a mate when there was no one your age to even mate with. How no one took the second to even consider the slimmest, tiniest chance that he liked toms, or that either of his sisters liked she-cats. And what’s worse is that it wasn’t just him, it wasn’t just him misinterpreting words. No, the way that Daffodil looked at her mentor, when they were only apprentices? He knew that look. The look of a cat who knows that they desperately want to impress someone, yet despite that, they aren’t even sure if that’s what they want. So they make up lies so that they can convince themselves thats what they want, not some other cat.

And Daffodil and Asphodel can’t even argue. Neither can Cormorant. Because all three of them got the exact same treatment, and they don’t want to be hypocritical.

Ooh, I love this deep dive into his mindset. I can definitely see some timeline where Piney goes full revenge mode against BarrenClan and does something he can't take back. Like, hmm, Ahrima from Razia's Shadow.

Very fun writing style too!! You know I'm tagging this as fanfic.

#ask #anon #pinepaw #daffodilpaw #asphodelpaw #slugpelt #fanfic #au

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teamdilf · 1 year

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Six Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @outpost51 right here!

Tagging: @commander-krios

Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.

Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)

Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!

Castis doesn’t seek Lora out; he watches as his granddaughters brush their teeth, fills glasses of water for them both (preemptively, so they cannot use it as an excuse to leave bed), and tucks them both in, knowing that there’s a good chance one of them will sneak out of their room to join their sister in bed, and, as he usually does, he’ll pretend he cannot hear the pitter patter of little feet on the hardwood.

The door closes and he sits in the living room and turns on a documentary he’d been watching about disputed territory between two nations on Earth that did not wind up in hostilities, aside from a decades-long exchange of culturally-appropriate liquor. Blasto walks in, staring longingly at the couch, and he sighs at the dog. “I trained you better than this.”

In response, Blasto whines at him so he pats the cushion beside him and the dog jumps up and lies down next to him, resting her chin on his leg. “I am growing too lenient with you, and we risk you becoming undisciplined,” he says to the dog, who looks up at him with her big, brown eyes, so he scratches her behind the ear, thinking about how loudly Ceci would laugh if she saw him letting a pet cuddle on the furniture.

#castis vakarian #FemShep #mass effect fanfiction #WIP #six sentence sunday #J's Fics #Father-Daughter

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softwarmfur · 1 year

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okey ranting about my headworld time

below da cut

My sona (the ironbeest..i should really make a tag for this) lives on a planet that is somewhat similar to earth, its main difference being that it is larger, more about the size of neptune. Its year is way longer, about 500 days roughly, and its seasonal changes are similar to ours but they take much longer to shift. The Iron-beest's fur changes with the seasons, as many creatures that live on the planet (haven't named it yet!) do. It prefers cooler climates, and migrates across its very large territory with the seasons. With the planet being big and all, there's generally more room for everyone, so the Iron-beest has a very wide territory that encompasses a lot of different biomes. The Iron-beest keeps warm with its thick, dense fur and its plentiful fat reserves. It grows a thicker coat and puts on weight during the colder times and sheds its mane and becomes leaner in warmer times. Its mane also gets somewhat curlier during the winter to help insulate itself. Its diet can also change seasonally, eating lots of fatty and protein rich foods such as nuts and meats in the fall and winter, and eating almost exclusively plant matter during spring and part of summer. Its favorite foods are very nutrient/fat dense ones. It loves foraging for truffles and seasonal mushrooms and nuts. It also loves hunting for and eating meat. Chewing on shoots and leaves is kind of boring.

The biomes on its planet are pretty similar to those on earth. The ironbeest's home includes various forests, plains and rolling hills, and mountainous land. Being so large and hungry, it needs a lot of land to be comfortable, and lots of food to eat. It is defensive of its territory and will chase strangers out, but that's more bc it dislikes unfamiliar things and really drastic changes to its schedule. plenty of other creatures (usually way smaller ones) discreetly live on/pass thru the iron-lands all the time. The ironbeest actively enjoys small animals living on its land as it loves to eat them. It's uneasy with medium sized creatures, but tolerates the ones it's used to. It likes having a reliable mental checklist of who comes and goes. It can be actively hostile and very aggressive towards other animals the same size as it. On its planet, no two creatures are the same (there aren't really species, just individual names), and no other large beasts live on its land.

#headworld #TIB #<- will be using these tags in the future #more parts coming soon ig

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just-a-cup-of-anxietea · 1 year

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Three characters to describe yourself with

Tagged by the marvelous @the---hermit ! Thank you!!

Preface: Listen. Listen. I have been waiting for precisely this kind of tag for AGES. THANK YOU FOR THIS TAG. I have a multi page spreadsheet with MANY colorful charts about this because I am a nerd that is DEEPLY invested in personality systems.** (A few characters already mentioned here and here)

Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

Okay, I was HIGHLY tempted to put Annabeth here instead (bc of the obvious sustainable design architecture connection) but I think Rachel is the funnier option of the two bc of my history with it. If you were here about two years ago, you might recall the initial Rachel Elizabeth Dare comparisons (referenced here and here). It is my great pleasure to inform you all that I have firmly crossed over from Blonde territory into Redhead territory due to the passage of time and the insanity that is hair color genetics. My hair also gets puffy and curly now, just because it really wanted to commit to the Rachel Elizabeth Dare bit. I don't know how this happened, honestly, but strangers now refer to me as a redhead, and I'm fairly certain it is through the power of manifestation of all the mutuals who called me Rachel. Well done friends. You are all magical beings who have cast Become Rachel spell on me so consistently and for so long that it WORKED. I was always decently Artsy + Environmental Justice-y, but I am especially so nowadays, mostly by virtue of being involved directly in both fields as a sustainable design, marine science, and bio-systems design student. There’s just a lot of environmental stuff happening in those, but it all has a distinct artsy side to it bc it’s heavily design oriented. So. Yea. Redhead, artsy environmentalist with,, ahem,, relatively loud opinions. Oh, I also own a blue hairbrush!

RACHEL’S PERSONALITY DATA: ENFP - 4w3 - sx/so - 478 - EIE - SLUAI - EFVL - Sanguine [Dominant]

COMMONALITIES: Ne-dom (ENxP), 3 feature (4w3 to my 613), SXXAI (SLUAI vs. SCOAI), E1 V3 (EFVL vs ELVF), Sanguine feature (Sanguine vs Choleric-Sanguine)

Mark Watney

This one is also admittedly here partially for the joke. If you’ve been following me for awhile, you might have noticed that I seem to be allergic to a lot of things. Like way too many things. A concerning amount of things. But fret not friends, because I, like Mark Watney, have the ever reliable Irish staple that is the potato to keep me from dying! For whatever reason this food has been consistently pretty kind to me, even when everything else tries to kill me a little bit. Which is great! And just,, really weird. Anyway Mark and I both seem to inhabit a world that constantly poses threats, a world that no one else experiences but that they still try to understand and support us through. And we don’t have a lot of food options, but we both have the potato. Blessed be la pomme de terre. Honestly any character in a hostile environment is one I immediately and irrevocably pack-bond with (see also: Katniss Everdeen, Robyn Davidson (a real person!!), Pi Patel, Steven Callahan. (also a real person!!)…), but I ESPECIALLY identify with Mark for his commitment to levity. I love that he is a relentless problem-solving optimist, quick with a joke, but also expressive of other emotions too. My identification with Mark is more,, aspirational than of Rachel. Mark is me at my best, and I hope to become more like him with time. Also, he’s into botany and mechanical engineering which is just the COOLEST. I love both of those things but haven’t made a career out of them (though I’m not ruling it out!).

MARK’S PERSONALITY DATA: ENTP 6w7 so/sx, 638, SCUEI, phlegmatic-sanguine (I’d argue for sang-chol, but phleg-sang is PDB’s verdict.)

COMMONALITIES: ENTP, 6 primary type, 36x (3 and 6 feature in tritype, 6 lead), SCxxI (SCUEI vs SCOAI), sanguine component

Ariadne from Inception

I tried to pick characters that I haven’t already expressed an instant pack bond with, so here I am with my last choice: Ariadne. First I would like to plainly state that Ariadne is, like, way cooler and more fashionable than me. This comparison will not be one of THOSE metrics bc she and I are just,, very different in those regards. HOWEVER, these other two characters don’t quite carry themselves with the seriousness that (I have been repeatedly told) I do. Ariadne is a dreamer, a visual thinker, and a creative soul, but she’s rather less sanguine about it than Rachel or Mark. She knows her goals, she sets her sites on them, and she pursues them without hesitation but WITH consideration for how her actions might ripple out and effect change. I really admire her deep consideration of things, her ability to think abstractly, and her willingness to just Go Try New Things. I might not be quite on her level in those regards, but I’ve been told I SEEM like her at least, and I do actively try to be embody those traits. So, like Mark, her character is one I generally aspire towards. On the flip side though, Ariadne can get a little lost in her head and can become pulled into things that she’d probably be better off leaving alone, which I completely understand and relate to. Curiosity and cats and whatnot. Also, she’s an architect, so there’s that. Similar training!

ARIADNE’S PERSONALITY DATA: INTP, 5w4, so/sx, 514, FLEV, melancholic-dominant

COMMONALITIES: xNTP (NeTi as primary and auxiliary), tritype featuring 1 (also 2nd placement), 2L & non-dialogic F

ALSO, while we’re on the topic of characters and personality, I am once again imploring all of you to take the open psychometrics character personality quiz. It’s SO COOL.

**if I receive any asks about it I will very much share chart data. It’s also a whole standalone system, so if you provide a list of characters you identify with, I can run the system for your specific characters based on Personality Database data (with optional alterations provided by yours truly for data gaps)!

No pressure tagging: @daydreaming-optimist @sweetlikehoneysteve @oh-toasty @willowstea and anyone else who wants to! (The personality data stuff was just a thing I added. I promise you guys don’t have to do that.)

#someone called me annabeth chase today too so there's that #also. last week? that also happened last week unprompted.#maybe I should’ve put Annabeth-#ah whatever it’s fine.#any of the girls who tend to ‘take things too seriously’ and who probably spend most of their life disheveled? that’s me #personality systems #enneagram #MBTI #tagged #friends #mutuals #the— hermit #Cris

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therogerclarkfanclub · 1 year

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"One-Armed Beasthunter 2"

Author: E. M. Hardy Narrated by: Roger Clark Book Series: Aberrant Farmer, Book #2 Release Date: Feb. 14, 2023 Run Time: 9 hours

👇👇Care to listen to a sample of this audiobook? Click on the media player below 👇👇

┌─────── ⊹⊱ 📖 ⊰⊹ ───────┐ Overview:

Ferren's family and neighbors had no other choice. Life on the frontier had become too dangerous, what with the Beasts' attacks getting more and more frequent and deadly. They all had to leave their farms behind to be relocated somewhere safe, closer to the capital. But the journey through the desert is no easy task, as they need to cross a hostile territory rife with monsters and dangers. Thankfully, the villagers can count on Ferren and the group of Powered accompanying him to protect them. And with any luck, the young farmer might even gain a new power or two to add to his arm arsenal. If they make it through, a new chapter in Fer's life may begin back in Dunwatch Keep, this time as one of the elite force and not just some random pawn in the king's army. But with each mission it becomes increasingly clear that they might not be safe anywhere, not even at the heart of the kingdom. Something is drawing the Beasts out of the Wastes, something terrible, something hungry. And it's up to them to stop it before the entire realm is overrun.

└─────── ⊹⊱ 📖 ⊰⊹ ───────┘

One-Armed Beasthunter 2 is available from:

Audible ✰ Audiobooks.com ✰ AudiobooksNow.com ✰ AudiobookStore.com ✰ Barnes & Noble ✰ Google Play ✰ Hoopla ✰ Rakuten Kobo ✰ Scribd

TIP: If you want to find more audiobooks from Roger, you can click on the "Roger's Audiobooks" tag or in the search bar type Roger Clark Audiobooks. Happy Listening!

#roger clark #roger's audiobooks #audiobooks #em hardy #e.m. hardy #fantasy novels #sci fi #fiction

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wickedhearts-if · 3 years

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Demo TBA | Love Interests | FAQ

“Those bastards mocked us, shunning us to the cold lands of the Empire. Our fruitful territory stolen. Our treasures taken away. Our title stripped from the records. My child, there is a reason to why God has given us this power. Viridescent bloodline is superior. You will support me to the throne, and we will become the most powerful.”

Wicked Hearts is a dark romance text-based game about the Five Houses that support the Royal Family of the Calerna Empire. Transmigrate into the third child of the Viridescent House - a family casted away to the ends of the Empire for betrayal. Your cruel family members are out for blood. Will you help lead your household to potential success, fail, or betray them?

As the third, your job is to support your Father’s wish to sit on the throne. Your eldest brother is your father’s right hand man, skilled in the art of assassination. Your sister creates poisons, using her powers to make them more deadly. The third is the most manipulative - the art of seduction.

When the emperor asks for a representative of the Viridescent House to come to the capital, you are sent with the mission of gaining the trust of the other houses. They are hostile and cautious of your presence. Using your powers, you need to make one your lover or else your throat would be the one at your brother’s blade.

♛ The main character’s personality is semi-set. Customization for gender and pronouns are available. Looks are also set. The traits of the Viridescent House is black hair and green eyes

♛ Romance a diverse set of characters - there are many dark secrets and scenarios to be discovered

♛ Different routes with a multitude of endings - whether it be betrayal, a happy wedding, or the rise of your family

♛ Uncover the secrets of the Empire, your family, and the other households

Main Character Post (character descriptions) Accessed By Clicking This Sentence.

Aemion (he/him) | Royal House of Gold | Tag

Soon to be emperor

Lucius (he/him) | House of Lapis | Tag

The sharp-tongue protector

Elysia (she/her) | House of Ashen | Tag

The kind healer

Azriel (he/him) | House of Scarlet | Tag

The dangerous warrior

Syren (gender fluid) | House of Amethyst | Tag

The cunning business person

Answered Asks | MC Posts | Character Sketches

Rated 18+ | Violence, sexually suggestive content, heavy themes, foul language, death, and suicide. The story will have everything you’d expect in a dark romance.

#interactive fiction #if: intro #wip #Wicked Hearts #twine game #interactive novel #romance #twine #dark romance

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goingmorry · 3 years

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Hello! Can you write monster trio reaction to someone flirting with their crush? Please ☀💛

[One Piece Headcanons] Monster Trio -> when someone flirts with their crush

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji Tags: female reader, jealous boys Author's Note: Thank you for the request! I love me some jealous boys. There's something about it that just hits right with me. 💖

MONKEY D. LUFFY

One clueless boi.

Figures out that he has a crush on you when he explains how he feels about you to Usopp.

Doesn't quite know how to express his feelings for you in a way that you'll understand.

Interrupts the other person from flirting with you.

"Hey, I found you!"

Barging in from god knows where, Luffy interrupts the man's playful antics by sandwiching himself in the tight space between you and the stranger.

Caught off-guard, the flirtatious man begins to shove the pirate captain away from his face, resulting in Luffy's muscular torso squeezing against your much softer one. The feel of his solid body against yours is enough to cause you to blush, prompting you to create some distance by pushing him away to the side.

"Listen, pal—" the man begins, about to give the straw hat pirate a piece of his mind for violating your personal space, but not before getting rudely interrupted again.

"Who's this guy?"

"An acquaintance," you pipe up instantly in response to your captain's inquiry, omitting the piece of information where this stranger spent the last twenty minutes hitting on you.

Apologizing for your captain's childish behavior, you give him a brief rundown of who precisely the straw hat-wearing pirate is.

"I'll call him porcupine from now on," Luffy says, pleased with the nickname given to the man sitting across from you, "Since he has spiky brown hair that reminds me of a porcupine!"

"I appreciate you taking the time to ask me out," you address the stranger, grabbing hold of Luffy's stretchy arm in the process, "But I don't think this is gonna work."

Pleased with the way events were unfolding, Luffy flashes you a toothy grin to which you cock an eyebrow in response.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"I-I don't know what you mean," he says, puckering his lips to the side. A telltale sign of an obvious lie.

You can't help but feel ridiculous for having a crush on the most insufferable pirate captain in all of existence, hoping that he, too, feels the same way as you do.

RORONOA ZORO

Only recently comes to terms with his feelings for you.

Hasn't figured out how he'll confess.

After all, romantic love is uncharted territory for him.

Won't really do anything unless he feels that you're in danger.

Pretends to be preoccupied with something else; ends up eavesdropping on your conversation with the flirtatious individual.

Inwardly though, he's more bothered than he lets on.

"Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to grab a coffee with me? I'd love to show you around town," the man says to you earnestly.

The sound of steel clashing against metal echoes loudly enough to startle people, their heads swiveling toward the origin of the noise.

In the corner of the room, the one-eyed swordsman sits upright, body tense in concentration while meticulously polishing Wado Ichimonji, one of his three signature blades.

Zoro ignores the curious looks thrown his way, focused instead on your interaction with the man in front of you.

The stranger's proposal was genuine enough. Objectively, he was undoubtedly an attractive man. Friendly and polite too from your conversations with him throughout the night.

He just... wasn't your type.

You were more interested in rougher-looking men. Someone who was strong but would never abuse their strength to harm the weak. Someone who was stoic but also had a heart of gold. Someone like—

Zoro glances in your direction, seeing the hesitation on your face in accepting the man's offer.

"Sorry, I don't think I can make it. I promised to do something with a friend," you explain, settling with a half-assed excuse for fear of confrontation.

It wasn't exactly a lie, not really. You did have plans to retrieve some supplies with a certain green-haired swordsman, though they weren't until much later in the day. But this man didn't need to know that.

Zoro wouldn't mind if you used him as an excuse.

The Pirate Hunter's shoulders relax considerably at your statement, switching his attention from you back to his current task.

Face expressing his disappointment at your rejection, the man's posture visibly deflates. "Maybe the next day then?" he adds as an afterthought.

Biting your lip guiltily, you shake your head, stray hair falling across your forehead. "Sorry, I can't. Our crew is leaving tomorrow night."

"Damn," the man says, scratching the back of his head in awkwardness before adopting a fake smile — one you choose to let slide. "I'm gonna miss you. After all, it's not every day that I get to meet such a fine young lady with the guts to traverse the terrors of the Grand Line. You take care of yourself, all right?"

"You flatter me," you giggle, cheeks tinged pink at the man's sincere compliment, "And likewise."

At the sound of your unrestrained laughter, Zoro pauses, deeply craving for the moment that he, too, becomes the recipient of your happiness.

SANJI

The person who flirts with you, his precious lady, better prepare for some ass-whooping.

Technically, Sanji can't call you his — not yet — though he has been thinking of the perfect way to confess to you.

Still, even though you're not officially together, he'll never not be feral when you're involved.

Deliberating for a few seconds before gesturing toward you, the stranger places his order with the barkeep and says, "And anything the pretty lady desires."

Pointer finger circling the rim of your shot glass in consideration, you smile at the stranger in gratitude. "In that case, I'll take another round then."

Exchanging a round of pleasantries and small talk, you and the stranger become reasonably familiar with one another.

Familiar enough to know that this man would rather whisk you away to a more private setting than converse with you under the public's watchful eye.

"I know of a better way we can spend the night together," he murmurs suggestively, low enough for you to hear despite the idle chatter in the background.

"Do you now?"

You weren't returning his flirtatious words, but you weren't exactly declining them either until you spot a tuft of blond hair in the corner of your vision, striding toward you with purpose.

When Sanji arrives, he's gushing praise and amorous advances, all for you. Ignored and uncomfortable with watching another man proclaim his underlying love and devotion to you, your newfound drinking buddy clears his throat to get your attention, earning a scornful glare from the cook.

"Who's this shitty and rude bastard?"

Unsurprising to you, Sanji doesn't even try to act civil. Your drinking buddy, however, is astonished by the cook's open hostility, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Sanji doesn't buy the man's innocent charade, one eye squinting in distrust as he presses on, "I asked you a question."

Leaving out his invitation to you for more lewd nightly activities, your drinking buddy settles for a half-truth, "Just a guy she met at the bar."

Amused with the blond's jealous streak, you decide to cut in before things escalate beyond your control, "Any particular reason you're here, Sanji?"

At the sweet lull of your voice calling his name, the cook resumes his lovestruck behavior with a hint of seriousness when he whispers the sobering news to you, "Marines were recently spotted in town. We're leaving, my dear."

Seizing the opportunity, Sanji offers his hand, palm up, for you to take, and the significance of his action is not lost to you.

You recall his strict policy for only using his hands for cooking — how, as a child, Sanji found solace from abuse by preparing meals for his sickly mother, sparking his lifelong interest in the culinary arts.

Touched, you place your hand in his, a picture-perfect rendition of a prince charming whisking away his lovely bride-to-be. You tell him exactly that, and he graces you with an amused chuckle and a soft smile.

If only people knew the real reason you and him were fleeing the scene.

"Let me be your Mr. Prince then."

Your delicate hand dwarfs in comparison to his larger one, but that doesn't stop you from interlocking your fingers together like two intimate lovers.

Neither one of you says anything else, coming to the same silent conclusion that your growing feelings for each other would have to be addressed sometime soon.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #sanji x reader #monster trio #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece writing #mywriting

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yanderemommabean · 3 years

Note

Humanoid bara yandere dinos? Or hot humanoid Dino mamas?

“Specimen A, please open your mouth” You say while preparing your clipboard, watching the being before you stand with a curious expression. Human as they may seem, you know better than to fall for the gimmick. Type A specimens are especially skilled in camouflage and body modification, able to blend into their surroundings to attack prey by ambush.

The only way to tell them apart from your own species is by seeing their teeth, or in rare cases, the shape of their pupils when they are in a state of anger. Slits like that of a predator protecting its territory, preparing for a slaughter.

“Open...Mouth?” the specimen mimics, tilting its head curiously as it walks to you and sits at your feet. It waits for a confirming nod, and lets it’s large tongue loll out of it’s gaping, tooth filled maw. It was young, still learning how to speak it’s own tongue let alone humans. It was cute, they always were when fresh out of the incubators and into the playpen. You could tell this little one was different, much more open to sharing and learning compared to the other youngsters.

As you jot down some small observations, freezing when a type B specimen walked behind you with a low, possessive growl. Type B specimens were ones you were told to avoid when around younger hatchlings, as the mix of DNA and instincts created more hostile and possessive beings.

Type B were capable of using their stealth and pack like mentality to take down prey, having senses of smell and sight to which humans can only envy and wish to obtain in the next life. You hush the startled youngling from the unknown specimens approaching from behind, and hug them to your chest as they ask to be lifted up, pressing their face into your chest as they shake and whimper.

“Lovely parental instincts” One says as two other large, well built male specimen approach. “You’d be such a good mate you know? Our young would look lovely having your blood”.

“We could always use a human like you-” one says as he cages you in, growling as the young type A in your arms prevents him from moving in another inch.

The other male chuckles, while a female type B coos at your predicament. “Come on, let us take you. Your body is just aching to be marked and bred full of our DNA” she pacified, nodding her head towards the male on standby to shoo the other children away into the outside playground.

You stand your ground firmly, tightening your hold on the child while puffing your chest. Weakness was not an option, especially with a young one. “Back down. Go back to your enclosure before I'm forced to use protocol Z” you warn, side stepping out of the arms blocking you in as the two remaining specimens only stare you down with wicked grins.

The female purrs lowly, clicking to the other excitedly in their own language. The noise resonates through the both of them, almost a pleasant hum. You could only guess and assume what was being said, and used their distraction to get the other youngling to safety in the hatchlings enclosed playground.

No specimen was “Safe” per se, but if you had to choose any of the multiple categories, you’d choose the babies and hatchlings before their main instincts kicked in. They never caused much of a fuss. Well, until they learn what hunting is and then tag becomes a bit of a problem.

You press the lock button and try to take a deep breath, cursing to relieve some tension while the little ones tackle and run around on the playsets.

Jesus, how are they so good at escaping? Type B is notorious for pack attacks, could they be evolving? “God I can’t believe my notes are in there!” you huff, bringing your phone out to try and type down your thoughts, yelping and nearly dropping the device as it starts ringing.

“Gah!- Yes uhm, yes i’m here! “ you blurt out, pressing the phone to your ear as you give your location, notifying the voice of the security breach, blushing when a familiar voice calls out in the background.

“Ah, Y/n! Got those dinos in a riot again huh?” the head doctor called out, teasing you. You groan and cover your face with your other hand, muttering a goodbye before hanging up. Always the one to blame when the hybrids escape and go on the hunt. Anywhere from type A to Type Z. The hybrids have become increasingly persistent in getting a hold of a mate, or friend, or paternal figure, and you were brought to the team to try and figure out why.

Your thoughts are brought to a halt when shrill crying erupts on the playground, and you rush over to make sure the little ones are ok, seeing the type A from earlier was a bit too harsh when play biting. No big deal! No big deal! Just a kiss and a bandage, and some nice little snacks, and everything will be ok!

For the time being, as you’re unaware of the camouflaged eyes watching you from behind.

-Mommabean (Ok so! tell me what you think! sorry for any typos, my keyboard is wanky!)

#Yandere exophilia #yandere dino hybrids #thats a fucking tag #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #mommabean #poorly written badly paced #yandere exophilia #yandere ish #yandere jurassic park

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bitacrytic · 2 years

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I already sent this to someone else and its not in the KP tag but I think you might enjoy my analysis.

The way I interpreted the Mirror Scene was that in some way, Kinn was trying to quell him, possibly subconsciously, possibly not (idk if that's the correct term to use, but), we see him brusquely turn Porsche around by the shoulders, we see that Porsche doesn't want to be doing that or possibly be in Kinn's presence; He's tilting his head back almost rolling his eyes and while I don't think there's sexual tension yet and absolutely no romantic feelings, when Kinn traps him in his arms, I think Kinn becomes consciously aware how intimate and unintentionally domestic it's become

Kinn's gay. He knows he's strictly into men, and while I don't think he has any sexual or physical attraction to Porsche right now (his annoyance and exasperation is in the foreground), he has eyes. He can tell Porsche's attractive, and he has an attractive man within the circle of his arms in what can almost be called an embrace. I think he realizes, in that moment, how strange it is to have someone who's existance has wrecked havoc and disorder in just a day or two of just being there, so close and in his personal space for someone who he isn't sexually or romantically involved with. I highly doubt he's like this with any other guard or even family. It's almost like he feels he needs to be the one to put Porsche in his place, and he can't really tell why. Maybe because he brought this feral street cat himself and maybe feels responsible for him, not because he cares, obviously, but because his father gave him a task and he's got to complete it. Porsche not adjusting and just blending into another faceless, indistinguishable guard like the rest of them as easily as he should have and is expected to, means his task isn't done. He's got to put a leash on him first and then he can take his eyes off of him, is probably his reasoning.

Meanwhile, in Porsche head, he's probably annoyed that Kinn has basically manhandled him into trying on the tie. And obviously, it's so much bigger than just the tie. He's doing a job he doesn't want to do, about to go someplace he doesn't want to go (and possibly be killed) after the worst day(s) of his life, after being publically humiliated and displaced from his home away from his little brother and Kinn has been hostile to him at every encounter to make matters worse. He just doesn't want to be near him right now. In his head, he's probably like "what the fuck is going on?", "why the fuck is he so close?", "why the fuck is he in my space, I can do this myself" and so he can't really decipher why Kinn has suddenly stopped fiddling with the tie over his shoulders and is now staring at him strangely and slack-faced through the mirror. Hence, he turns to face Kinn eye to eye, jaw set, eyebrows slightly raised. He thinks Kinn is challenging him, and he turns to face him thinking Kinn is up for a fight or about to do something. Why else would he be staring at him like that? His fight instincts are rising up and are alert at the moment (Think feral cat meeting another unfamiliar, strange, and territorial cat).

In some way, Kinn's initial advantage over Porsche has shifted (him trapping in his arms and manhandling him) and is now in Porsche favor. We can see that Kinn possibly decides not examine the feeling/thought any further and basically just runs, which is very uncharacteristic for Kinn. Something has definitely shifted between them but they don't know it yet. Kinn will likely be the one to acknowledge it first whilst Porsche pretends and denys, further down the line. And considering their whole dynamic is them fighting over control over one another, we can finally see a bit of that dynamic shine through in this scene.

So I don't really understand why people are already interpreting this scene as "uwu ♡ they're so whipped/falling for each other >.< !" When I feel that there are so much layers to it than just that. After all, it's a slow burn, enemies to lovers and this is only episode 2 of 14.

Oh ALL OF THIS!!!

I definitely don't think it was googly eyes. It was... something on Kinn's part, and exasperation on Porsche's part.

#kinnporsche

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bookofmirth · 2 years

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Regarding your anti fandom ask, it’s not just limited to the sjm fandom! I’m in a couple other fandoms and it’s been going on for a while, a few years even. I suspect it’s only recently become more prominent in the sjm fandom because of how big the ship war has gotten. There hasn’t ever seemed to be a large scale disagreement of this size in the fandom before, we all generally got along and liked mostly the same ships. Even when we disagreed, there wasn’t as much hostility as there is now. I don’t like lysaedion and I remember posting about a koa scene I took issue with in the tag, but I never got slammed by lysaedion shippers trying to convince me to like them or giving death threats. Now though? If I were to post anything critical of any acotar ship or character - nessian or feysand or elain or lucien or azriel - I doubt anyone in the fandom would be willing to engage in a respectful discussion where we can both try to share our views even if we agree to disagree.

Like on one hand, I do like that the tagging system allows us to curate our own fandom experience. I don’t particularly like looking in the tag of my favorite ship and being bombarded with posts from people who hate it. On the other hand though, it seems to detract from actually engaging in discussions and analysis with people we disagree with, instead sheltering everyone in their own little ship bubble. Idk it’s complicated.

In my other fandoms, I’ve noticed anti tags becoming more common with the anti shipper and pro shipper wars, which I feel like is also on the rise on the acotar fandom. I’m sure you’re already aware, if you aren’t I’d highly recommend looking it up yourself, but basically anti shippers believe in policing content that they view as morally depraved and problematic, while proshippers believe everyone is entitled to make the content they want and if you dislike it you shouldn’t engage with it. The issue lies with the ambiguity of defining what is considered “problematic” content. Incest and pedophilia, sure, but what about when it’s fanfic of a 17 year old mc of a ya fantasy novel who falls in love with an immortal man? Should that be censored because it’s pedophilia? What about fanfic writers that venture into dubcon and cnc territory? Are they influencing young readers and promoting rape culture, or are they merely exploring kinks and adult fantasies in a healthy manner? How far should writers be allowed to go in their writing under the excuse of it being a coping mechanism? Are platforms like ao3 promoting racism and misogyny and homophobia by refusing to censor works that contain this content through a favorable lens? Antis seem to always lie on the side of censorship to protect others, while proshippers believe you should be responsible for curating your own experience and blocking content you dislike as you see fit.

Most of the time when people use anti tags they aren’t referencing this large scale debate, many proshippers even advocate the use of anti tags so you aren’t exposed to content you don’t want to see. But I do think that this argument between the two sides of the tumblr content war is contributing to why tagging things appropriately is becoming more of a social norm in fandom. And I’ve also noticed many people in the ship war using anti language against the opposing ship - for example, gwynriels saying that elriel is problematic and toxic and would send a bad message to readers about romance, and elriels saying that elucien is problematic and misogynistic by taking away elain’s agency. In both of these scenarios, shippers are co-opting buzzwords to give themselves a sense of moral superiority over other shippers, without looking at the nuances of both sides. It’s hard to distinguish between the two when you don’t know if people in the anti ship or anti character tags are using those to say “here is why I dislike this ship/character and I’m using this tag so fans of this character/ship don’t have to see it” vs. “this is why I believe anyone who supports this ship/character is a terrible person.” It’s getting even more confusing since anti sjm blogs use the same anti tags - so if you look at the anti nesta tag, for example, it’s filled with a mix of people - some making respectful criticisms of how her character arc was written, some claiming she’s a horrible person and anyone who supports her is an abuse apologist, and some claiming nesta should just burn the inner circle to the ground and how they think sjm ruined her.

Anyway, it’s a very confusing, complicated issue that extends beyond just the realm of this fandom. I hope this made at least some sense, lol I’m sorry it’s like a full on essay, feel free to ignore it if you don’t feel like reading it all (I wouldn’t blame you lmao).

I meant to answer this the next day and that was five days ago!!!! Between the two of us, anon, people are going to be scrolling for days.

it’s not just limited to the sjm fandom! I’m in a couple other fandoms and it’s been going on for a while, a few years even.

Hmmm... I have mixed feelings about this! Very mixed. It seems like what was once a good way to make people aware of the type of content they would encounter, or to help them avoid the content they want to avoid, is now being used to create extreme echo chambers.

it seems to detract from actually engaging in discussions and analysis with people we disagree with, instead sheltering everyone in their own little ship bubble.

Yeah that.

I'm still working under the assumption that if you're in the fandom, you generally like the thing. If I tag something #azriel, I don't feel like I need to specify whether I am being Nice or Mean about him, because... it's more complex than that? Or if I tag something #elucien, that doesn't mean that I can't say something critical of Elain or Lucien. There just isn't a way, imo, to categorize all opinions or content in that way. What if I say that Nesta is a bitch and she's also a badass. What would I tag that? What if I just tag it Nesta and assume that people interacting with my post can decide what to do from there. Block me if you want, idgaf!

I find this all super interesting, and yes I agree with everything you said about anti fandoms, and it's why I am never going to be an anti. Not in the traditional "I'm going to spend my life shitting on this thing and trying to convince other people it sucks and they should hate it too" style. I have plenty of stuff I don't like, but idgaf if other people like it.

Even when we disagreed, there wasn’t as much hostility as there is now.

Absolutely. So funny story, but a bunch of us got an ask yesterday about someone supposedly "infiltrating" the fandom, and then a blog encouraging that behavior, and blah blah blah. I will make a separate post about it. Point is, this person supposedly assumes that because they like e*riel, the fact that gwynriels follow them is super funny?

But whoever this person is... did they know that we can like nessian, or cazriel, or whatever, and STILL BE MUTUALs. Surprise bitch, but I don't agree with every single opinion of every single mutual that I have! I don't expect my followers to agree with everything I say either! Okay that's all I will say on that because that's a separate issue, but related to the hostility you mentioned.

I’m sure you’re already aware, if you aren’t I’d highly recommend looking it up yourself, but basically anti shippers believe in policing content that they view as morally depraved and problematic, while proshippers believe everyone is entitled to make the content they want and if you dislike it you shouldn’t engage with it. The issue lies with the ambiguity of defining what is considered “problematic” content. Incest and pedophilia, sure, but what about when it’s fanfic of a 17 year old mc of a ya fantasy novel who falls in love with an immortal man? Should that be censored because it’s pedophilia? What about fanfic writers that venture into dubcon and cnc territory? Are they influencing young readers and promoting rape culture, or are they merely exploring kinks and adult fantasies in a healthy manner? How far should writers be allowed to go in their writing under the excuse of it being a coping mechanism? Are platforms like ao3 promoting racism and misogyny and homophobia by refusing to censor works that contain this content through a favorable lens?

Sorry this quote is really long that I am highlighting but ALL OF THIS. I've been looking for posts about anti fandoms and you made me realize that really what I should be looking for are my posts about AO3 and censorship, because that's what all of this comes down to. When I say I am anti anti that means I really, really don't like anti fandoms, and that's why I started the tag sjm critical (which I have noticed has gained traction and I appreciate that).

For example, people who are anti rowaelin (which caused me to unfollow the tag years ago) don't just dislike the ship, they don't just think it's abusive lol, they think that sjm is a horrible person for writing it and that the only valid ships are those which are healthy and perfect. They don't like age gaps, they require explicit consent, they relationship must also be social justice-worthy. In other words, the only good ship in these contexts are ones that meet this insane standard of "have never done anything even slightly negative ever and if they did, then they immediately atoned for it and tried to teach the audience a valuable lesson about being a Good Person".

Also, re: anti rowaelin, when I was encountering a lot of that content there was no ship war, they were canon, they were together, and so the only reason for people to post anti rowaelin content wasn't because there was an actual, viable debate around it, like we are currently seeing with the e*riel/elucien/gwynriel ship war. People just didn't like rowaelin and were spending their time intentionally hating on something that was already fact. That's why it's different from antielriel, or anti elucien or anti gwynriel.

However... There is overlap between anti talking points (in the "I hate this thing and you should too" way) and the current ship war. They are, as you said, "policing content that they view as morally depraved and problematic". They will be "anti elucien" because the mating bond takes away choice (even though the series doesn't actually bear that out). They are "anti gwynriel" because of the (non-existent) power imbalance. It's not enough to have a valid reason to dislike it, they have to turn it into a moral purity contest.

And so when people use "anti character", that's why I'm like y'all... do you realize the baggage that comes with that tag? With the concept of being anti? Is this really the stance you're trying to take, or is this just your personal opinion or squick? There's just a much larger fandom history and context that is loaded into that phrase "anti", and I don't know if people always realize that.

I think that's the thing that I hate the most, and the thing that idk if people are intentionally wading into. Ships don't have to be healthy or pure or even consensual. They could be abusive and have age gaps and whatever. Acting like shipping makes one (real) person better than another is what drives me freaking crazy, and that's what anti fandoms bring into the discussion.

It’s hard to distinguish between the two when you don’t know if people in the anti ship or anti character tags are using those to say “here is why I dislike this ship/character and I’m using this tag so fans of this character/ship don’t have to see it” vs. “this is why I believe anyone who supports this ship/character is a terrible person.”

Yeah and that too - I use antielriel and censor the name because I don't want people to find content that they won't like. I have zero interest in changing anyone's mind, though. And while I find the ship potentially icky, that's my personal opinion and I don't think that says anything about the people who ship it. I have my share of "problematic" ships so I am definitely not out here trying to convince anyone to convert to the But Is It Moral way of thinking about ships.

I think another confounding factor is the way that ship names are used interchangeably to refer to both the ship, and the people who ship it. Yeah it's a quick easy shorthand, but when I say "e*riel would bring out the worst in one another", I am making a statement about those characters, not anyone who ships it. And yet, I guess people think I am shaming them or something.

This is why occasionally I'm like "FICTION VERSUS REALITY" or "fictional characters are not real!" It's mainly to remind people that when I make a statement about a character, it has nothing to do with people who like or dislike said character.

From a discourse community perspective (in the linguistics sense) it's really interesting to see how people take control of the ways in which we communicate and access or restrict content. I definitely appreciate that people have created these tools for us to curate our experiences online, and I use them so that other people can do what they need with my content, and so I can find things myself. It's just when the tags are used ambiguously, in ways that don't seem to account for fandom history or where those tags came from, that I'm like but wait. Are we playing the Who Is A Better Person game, or are you just trying to be organized.

#fandom things #ask #anon #acotar fandom #long post tag

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