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harryistheonlyoneforme · 9 months

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partition*

pairing: ceo harry x reader

warnings: voyeurism, car sex, squirting, daddy kink

summary: in which yn is mad at harry and he lets her take her frustration out on him

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the backseat of the limo is filled with tension as harry and yn ride to some dinner they’d been invited to by a potential client that she definitely would rather not attend, the sound of the busy road around them being the only filler. her arms are folded across her chest as she sits as far away from him as she can bear, scrolling on her phone to avoid the scowl on his face.

“baby, i’m sorry we have to go to this, but i promise as soon as we get home we can cuddle and watch a movie and eat some popcorn. i’ll even let y’do the little face mask on me like we did last time,” harry tries, exasperation seeping into his tone as he tries to make things better. she responds with nothing but a sigh, turning her body away from him slightly and crossing her legs. that’s all it takes for it all to click in his head; the game she’s playing. he’ll bite, but definitely not in the way she wants.

“alright. if y’gonna be bratty all night i’m not gonna deal with it. we can go home,” he warns, clenching his teeth together to keep his composure. “what can i do to make it better?”

when she still doesn’t answer, he’s reaching forward and pressing the button for the partition, much to her confusion. she’s not confused for long, though, as she sees him unbuttoning his slacks before unzipping them and freeing his cock. “panties off,” he tells her nonchalantly, lazily stroking his cock as he stares at her.

her breathing stops for just a moment as she takes in his words before she’s doing as she’s told, sliding her panties down her legs and past her shoes. she goes to place them into her purse before she hears the sound of fingers snapping, looking over to harry to see him with his hand open. he takes the time to place them into the pocket of his jacket before snapping into action.

“‘s a shame really,” he grunts, pulling her over to him and spreading her legs on either side of him. he flips her dress up and wastes no more time before sliding a ringed finger through her already glistening folds. “so wet for me already, it’s pathetic,” he spits before reaching between them to line himself up with her. he uses his other hand to guide her down onto him, a gasp leaving her lips at the slight stretch.

he lets her adjust for a moment, and when she finally relaxes fully around him she expects him to start absolutely wrecking her, but he doesn’t. he removes his hands from her hips and places them behind his head, looking at her expectantly. “go on, then. if y’so mad at me, take it out on me. take what you need from me,” he tells her, and a scoff falls from her lips at his words but she prepares herself nonetheless.

placing her hands on his shoulders, she adjusts her body so that her knees are against the leather of the seat before using the both of them as leverage to lift herself off his cock before slamming her hips back down with so much force that it forces a shocked grunt from harry.

“that’s what it was. just needed daddy to make it all better, hm?” he grunts, trying not to show what she’s doing to him. the feeling of her warm, slick walls sliding over each and every inch of him has a cry bubbling in the back of his throat that he refuses to let go, settling for short grunts as she continues to lift and drop her hips at a speed that’s comfortable for her.

she keeps going at her desired pace as the knot in her belly gets tighter and tighter, her skin growing damp with the effort she’s putting in. taking a moment to adjust herself and breathe, she leans forward just a bit before continuing, and the angle is absolutely delicious. the most guttural sound falls from her lips at the feeling, and she’s speeding up just a bit as she chases the feeling she craves.

harry can barely hold himself together with her on top of him, taking all of him so well, so he reaches forward and grabs her ass cheeks, spreading them and using them as leverage to fuck her down onto him. that’s not all he does, though, scooting down the seat just enough that he can get his footing to begin fucking her from below. her eyes instantly roll into the back of her head and her cries of pleasure get much louder, harry trying to get her there before he explodes.

“fuck, i can feel you squeezing me. so close for me. y’did so well taking what you needed from me, baby,” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling of his balls drawing tighter and tighter with each meeting of their bodies. “cmon, baby. cum for me, y’so close. soak my cock before i fill you up, make a mess on me.”

and that’s all it takes for her to go completely rigid above him but he doesn’t stop the movement of his hips or let go of hers, and a loud sob of pleasure leaves her lips as she cums. her orgasm brings a gush of wetness that soaks his expensive suit, a ring of white coating the base of him as even more evidence of how hard she came.

he looks down as he feels her let go so intensely, and the sight of his soaked clothes plus the feeling of her contracting walls sucking him in sends him over the edge with a noise that resembles a growl and a grunt, dropping her hips back down onto his to keep her close as he fills her up. his balls and his cock are twitching as he empties himself in her, and he can barely think as his body slumps in relief.

they’re just lying in the wetness of her orgasm as he feels his cum start to drip down past the base of him, leaving his balls even stickier than they already were. once they catch their breath, yn has no interest in moving, so she groans when she feels harry shift behind her before holding onto her back to keep her stable as he reaches toward the front of the limo.

pressing the button for the partition once more, he attempts to catch his breath a bit more before speaking to the driver. “you can go ahead and turn back around, we’re just gonna head home instead,” he manages, not even waiting for a response as he lets it back up. he can catch a glimpse, though, of the driver through the mirror. a red face and ears as he avoids all eye contact. there’s no way he didn’t hear the absolute filth that happened in the back, and he definitely lets out a sigh of exasperation as he realizes he’ll be left to clean up the mess(the tip will be insane though).

harry looks down to yn slumped against his chest with a small grin, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead before saying something that makes her breath stutter.

“it’s good that you’re getting some rest now, baby. you’re gonna need the energy.”

#harryistheonlyoneforme #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles smut #smut #harry styles filth #harry related writings #dbf harry styles #dbf harry #harry styles writing #new post #new fic

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milswrites · 3 months

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Hobbies Part 11.

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: mentions of sex

“Will you stop fussing? You look divine!” Azriel praised as he walked up to where Y/N was nervously fretting over her appearance in the mirror. His soothing hands meeting her waist as he pulled her backwards to rest against his chest in a comforting embrace. Mesmerised eyes taking in the reflection before him, Y/N wrapped perfectly in his arms as if she was the missing piece of what was the unfinished puzzle of Azriel’s life.

He placed a tender kiss against her cheek, moving his hands to appreciatively brush them along the fabric of her dress. Another marvellous creation of her own design. “You don’t happen to have a matching top for me, do you?” He asked, eyes still locked onto her angelic face in the mirror as he delicately planted sweet kisses along her neck. A twinkle appeared in her eyes as she pouted in faux disappointment, “I’m afraid not. I must say I’m surprised, I didn’t take you as the kind of person who would want to wear matching clothes with his lover in front of his family.”

“Well it’s a good job you’re not only my lover but my mate as well” he playfully bit the lobe of her ear, the blushing woman squealing in the tight grip of his arms as she tried to escape his affectionate nibbles. Azriel pulling her back into him, refusing to let the woman go, amber eyes moving back to the mirror to admire the happy couple smiling back at him in the reflection. Stomach doing somersaults at the love shining in Y/N’s eyes as she looked up at the male.

Azriel sighed heavily as he rested his chin onto Y/N’s shoulder, “Are you sure we can’t just stay here? I can think of many, much more scandalous, things I’d rather do with you than go and see my family.”

“And aren’t we so fortunate that we now have all the time in the world to do said scandalous things. We can try every sinful thought that crosses through that dirty mind of yours.”

Azriel’s grip on Y/N tightened at her words, his eyes growing dark as she sent a dangerously sensual image down the new found bond. She smirked at his growing predicament pressing against her, pleased at the power she held over the male, before she teased, “oh but what a shame. I think if we tried to escape your family any longer they might come and bash down my door and I’d rather not have an audience when I’m showing you just how much I love you.”

“Let them watch” he groaned, smile dropping from his face as she pulled away before he could act on his desires.

Y/N began to pace the room anxiously, repeating everything Azriel had told her about his friends, “So there’s Rhysand and Feyre, and they have the baby right?”

“Nyx yes.”

“And then there’s Cassian and Nesta. Then Mor, Amren and… oh gosh who was it? Ella? Eleanor?”

“Elain.”

“Yes Elain! Ok.”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured the fretting woman, just as he had been doing for the past six hours since Rhysand had sent them the invitation, “as much as I know I’m going to dislike it, I don’t think there’s a single person who could meet you and not fall unbelievably and entirely in love with you.”

Y/N stopped her pacing, flushing at Azriel’s words as she moved towards him to place her smaller hands in his, “well, unfortunately for them I only have eyes for my big grumpy mate who would no doubt show them who I belong to.”

“I’m not grumpy, I just don’t like people” Azriel defended with a scowl as a giggling Y/N pecked his cheek.

“Ok” she released a deep breath, giving Azriel’s hands a gentle squeeze, “I’m ready. Let’s go now before I change my mind.”

“The beds right there” Azriel pleaded as she rolled her eyes at his hint, playfully slapping his chest as he chuckled. The male drew her into a crushing embrace, sneaking in one last kiss on the top of her head before his shadows engulfed them. A storm of darkness surrounding their hold as the shadows whisked the loving couple away to the Night Court. To Velaris the City of Starlight.

~~~~~

The pair stepped out from the shadows into an empty cobbled street. A slight chill in the air causing Y/N to shiver at the unfamiliar climate, Azriel made a mental note to get her some more weather appropriate clothes for whenever she was to join him in the Night Court.

Azriel watched on with nervous interest as Y/N took in her new surroundings. Having never been to the night court, he prayed she would find Velaris just as magical as he had done. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, she may be looking at these streets as a place she would one day like to call home.

They hadn't yet had the chance to talk about how their relationship would work with the two hailing from different courts, but Azriel couldn't help but let his mind drift to sweet thoughts of the pair living together in a small cottage overlooking the Sidra. Once more dreaming of a perfect domestic life with the woman, only this time he could dream of them doing it all together as mates.

Y/N was beaming widely as usual, her bright eyes absorbing the view of the picturesque street. "Oh Az, it's beautiful! It looks just like something from a fairytale!" she exclaimed, Azriel releasing a relieved sigh at her open appreciation.

"Yeah?" he asked shyly, "Think you'd like to come back to visit me here?" He needed to hear the words from her lips so Azriel could be free to dream about the future he so longed to have.

Y/N laughed at his anxious question, finding it silly how he would think a place would change her opinion of the man, how it would change how deeply she felt about him, "Azriel," she smiled, pulling both of his hands into her own, "you could live in a literal ditch, and I would still visit you every opportunity I have. Because I love you Azriel, not your Court. Although it is a very beautiful one...you may find it quite difficult to get rid of me."

Now feeling silly about his previous worries, Azriel leaned forward to press a soft kiss against Y/N's lips, joking as he pulled away, "I'd wait to meet my family first before you say things like that, you may change your mind on that fairly quickly."

"I'm sure if they're even half as good as you are I'll love them" she replied, pulling the male in for another sweet kiss whilst they were still in the pleasurable bubble of their own company.

"Don't say I didn't warn you" Azriel teased as he began to lightly push Y/N in the direction they needed to go, his large hand resting protectively on the small of her back.

~~~~~

Azriel already knew this was going to be the most embarrassing night of his life. He had already prepared for that. What he hadn't prepared for was the impatient nudge of Rhysand's voice in his head telling him to hurry up and meet them at Feyre's art studio in the Rainbow. Azriel had expected a sit down meal, maybe even a trip to Rita's for a few drinks if the night went well, but of course it seems his brother has something more nefarious planned.

The shadowsinger, who already wished he was still holed up in the Day Court cottage with Y/N, sullenly led his mate to where the rest of his family were waiting for the pair. Y/N failed to notice his bitter mood, she was too preoccupied with gazing at her surroundings in awe as Azriel dragged her through the winding streets by her hand, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

Her excitement over being in a new court steadily increasing, until by the time they had made it to the Rainbow Azriel was sure if she were any happier she'd likely combust from the enthusiasm.

He held the door open for her as they entered the studio, Y/N's eyes lighting with glee as she noticed where he had taken her. The inner circle were all waiting inside, turning from their conversations to face the newly together couple.

"Oh my cauldron you're beautiful!" Cassian cried overenthusiastically earning an eye roll from his mate due to his antics. Bounding over to the pair he mockingly wipes faux tears from his eyes before gripping Y/N by her arms and pulling her into the biggest bear hug he could muster. If Y/N were startled by his actions she didn't show it, instead she reciprocated the hug, grinning at the large man as she spoke, "You must be Cassian, I've heard so much about you."

The General gasped as he put her down, turning to yank his grumbling brother into a hug as he teased, "Oh Azzie, I knew you always talked about me!" The rest of his family began to approach the pair, exchanging welcoming hugs (which were less bone-crushing than Cassian's but just as warming) and polite greetings.

Azriel watched his family interact with the woman and he couldn't help but think that if Y/N could be likened to anything it would be the sun, her glowing energy forcing anyone near her to fall into a natural orbit. Her presence acting like gravity, drawing everyone towards her. They had been in the room for all of two minutes and Y/N was already animatedly chatting away with Feyre as she admired her studio, the two women acting as though they had been friends for centuries.

Whilst she was distracted, a grouchy Azriel hovered over to Rhysand, whispering sharply in the male's ear so not to be overheard, "What are we doing here?"

"I showed Feyre the painting from Y/N and she wanted to plan something that would make her feel comfortable, isn't that sweet Azzie?" Rhysand smirked at Azriel's bulging eyes, clearly finding his shock entertatining.

"You showed her the painting?" he grit through his teeth, cheeks turning red at the thought of the High Lady seeing something that felt so personal to Azriel.

"Oh...I showed everyone the painting" Rhys replied as if it was obvious, pointing over to where a flushed Y/N was smiling gently as Feyre held said painting in her hands as she talked about it to the woman.

"You actually hate me" Azriel concluded, eyes now drifting around the room in fear as he noticed the number of blank canvases standing on easels. Feyre's brilliant idea obviously being that they all had a family painting session.

"Don't worry brother," Rhysand grinned as he wrapped a comforting arm around Azriel, "I brought drinks!"

~~~~~

The concentration in the room was palpable. Well, from some of the members. Azriel, Feyre, Amren and Cassian all working in a focused silence, tongues absentmindedly poking from their lips. Elain was also opting to work quietly, unreadable eyes sometimes flickering in the direction of the shadowsinger and his new love. On the other hand: Rhysand, Mor, Nesta and Y/N were all happily chatting away as they gossiped whilst painting their creations. Wine flowing to their heads as they giggled to each other whilst occasionally stumbling on the tall wooden stools they were sat on.

"I have to say," Rhysand mumbled a confession as he squinted at his painting, "Azriel gave us quite the fright when he disappeared from here - twice may I add. He was acting like a feral beast, we all thought you had to mean a lot to him for him to be acting like that."

"Well," Y/N sighed contentedly, affectionate eyes meeting Azriel's from where he sat next to her, "I suppose finding out you're mates would do that to someone."

A chorus of surprised cries flooded the room. The inner circle chiding their friend for not breaking the news to them sooner. Sweet Elain squeaked in shock, spitting out a large gulp of wine all over her canvas. Meanwhile Cassian shouted, "I knew it!" and began to list all the unrelated reasons as to why he believed he had always known that Azriel found his mate during his stay in the Day Court.

"Mates?" Elain quietly sounded, eyes locking onto the floor in disappointment. Before she could say anymore her sister chimed in, Nesta leaning over to place a friendly hand on Y/N's own as she congratulated the couple, "That's wonderful news. We're really happy for you Azriel, you two make a wonderful pair."

Having been sat in a nervous stupor most of the night, praying that Y/N and his family got on well, Azriel flashed Nesta a crooked smile, thanking the woman for her kind words. "Yeah, we do" he replied earnestly, eyes moving to rest on his lovely mate.

"Well cheers to that!" Cassian bellowed as he raised his full glass in the air, liquid sloshing messily down his sleeve.

~~~~~

"What is that?" Y/N asked, squinting inquisitively at Cassian's masterful creation, "A horse?...A blue horse?".

Cassian frowned, a paint-stained hand coming to rest on his chin as he observed his painting alongside the woman. "It's supposed to be Azriel" he admitted in disappointment, "I guess I can't quite get the face right.” Y/N laid a supportive hand onto the general's shoulder, lying through her teeth in an attempt to make it feel better, "Oh of course! You're just forgetting the wings that's all!"

The General gasped at Y/N's words, beside himself that he forgot to paint his brothers wings, he eagerly lunged for his palette so he could complete the portrait of his, eyebrows still knitted together as he focused on painting the lines as steadily as he could.

Y/N moved past the male with a chuckle, wanting to see what other wonders Azriel's family had created. She came across the most exquisite piece, a lovely garden which radiated life, beautiful flowers of all shades decorating the scene. Gasping in awe at the tranquility of the scene, she turned to the artist to profess her appreciation, "It's beautiful! I've never seen a garden like it!"

"Oh...Thank you," Elain quietly answered, "It's of my own one."

"You have a garden? Oh that's wonderful, I bet the painting doesn't even do it justice! You must be really talented if it looks anything as good as this."

Elain cracked a small smile of appreciation, "Thank you, you can come see it sometime if you like. The next time Azriel brings you up maybe?"

"I'd love that!" Y/N replied joyfully, having always had a love for gardens which had only increased by a tenfold since that night with her mate. Azriel tentatively approached the pair, slowly walking towards them before coming to a stop at Y/N's side. "Everything ok here?" he nervously asked, eyes flittering between the two.

"Yes!" Y/N beamed, resting her head against his shoulder, "I was just telling Elain how magnificent her painting is, and she's invited me to come see her garden next time I'm here!"

Azriel relaxed his muscles, not even noticing how tense he had been standing, he flashed Elain a grateful smile, eyes full of apologies for not telling her what had unraveled during his time in Autumn, for not giving her the closure she deserved, "Thank you Elain."

The woman grew a mischievous smile, pulling a sniggering Y/N to her side and into a one-armed hug, "I don't know why you're thanking me Azriel. It's Y/N who I invited, not you."

~~~~~

It had been a wonderful night. Meeting Azriel's family and being allowed a glimpse into his life here in the Night Court filled Y/N with an indescribable warmth she has failed to experience in her life until this moment. Still admiring the artwork they had created tonight, Y/N slowly approached Feyre's canvas, tears welling in her eyes at the sight before her.

There, huddled together in the center of the detailed painting was the inner circle. Arms wrapped around each other's figures, connecting them all in one large hug. Laughing faces stared back at Y/N, their eyes all overflowing with carefree humour as their dazzling smiles met her own.

And there, joined in the familial embrace, was Y/N. Locked tightly in a beaming Azriel's arms. Her smile as equally wide as his as her eyes twinkled with an uncontrollable joy.

Y/N had never had any family and spent most of her life growing up alone and uncared for. But here, wide eyes staring at the familiar woman in the painting who was surrounded by Azriel's loving family, Y/N allowed herself to dream of that family one day being hers as well.

"Oh wow that's amazing" Azriel's voice sounded from behind Y/N, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder as he admired Feyre's hard work. Y/N failed to hold the sob that broke from her mouth as she settled into Azriel's tender hold. "Hey...hey what's wrong?" Azriel asked worriedly, shifting Y/N in his embrace until her face was pressed against his chest. He murmured sweet nothings into her ear to calm her until she was able to speak, swaying them gently in an attempt to comfort the sniffling woman.

Once Y/N had settled enough to speak, she craned her neck back in order to look at her mate, eyes still red and watery. "You have the most amazing family" she wept, unable to stop the tracks of tears rolling down her cheeks.

"We do" Azriel replied simply, agreeing with her statement. He placed a small kiss on her forehead before beginning to gently wipe the tears from her face with his hands. Turning Y/N until she faced the painting once more, back nestled into his chest. "You know I'm not actually related to any of them through blood" Azriel pointed out, his low voice rumbling against her back, "But we found each other and built something special between us. Something that means more to us than just family."

Y/N still sniffled slightly but she was deadly focussed on listening to every word that came from Azriel's mouth as he continued, "Some bonds run deeper than blood. And you're a part of that now. You're one of us."

"Yeah?" Y/N asked hesitantly, fingers coming to brush up against her euphoric form in the painting. Azriel hugged her midsection tightly, gently pulling her back so her hand dropped from the piece, "don't go trying to rub yourself off. You're stuck with us now."

She laughed through her tears, opting to rest her hands on Azriel's encircling arms instead. Happy with the home she had found with the male.

Allowing the final few tears to fall, she breathed out deeply, allowing her overwhelming emotions to expire.

"What did you paint?" she asked curiously, realizing she had now seen every painting in the room except her mates.

"Come on," he smiled, holding out a hand for her to take, "I'll show you."

~~~~~

Y/N stared at the painting which glared right back at her. Absorbing the piece in it's entirety as she tried to figure out what it was.

It was beautiful, a swirl of misty yellows and glittering golds, whirling together on the canvas. Colours blending in harmony as they glided across the surface. The picture had a depth to it, sparking a desire inside her chest to try and climb into it, to see just how far she would make it into the glowing storm, wondering what kind of nirvana she would discover at the end of it.

"Its incredible Az! But...what is it?" she daren't remove her eyes from the painting, afraid that the spiritual journey it was taking her on would be cut short.

"It's you" he replied, his proud amber eyes burning into his own work, "what you make me feel, what the bond makes me feel. Every stroke of the brush, every whirl of paint, it's all you."

His words held truth, as Y/N stood and observed each flowing line that moved along the canvas, she felt a strange sense of intamacy with the artwork. As though Azriel had torn out her soul and plastered it across the surface. Her soul which Azriel had recognized before she had, her mate knowing every part of her in it's entirety.

"I see you for what you are" Azriel stated, bond already revealing your thoughts to him, "Just as you see me."

"Cauldron Azriel!" Cassian's shrill voice severed the consuming aura of the moment Y/N and Azriel were sharing, "Feyre needs to start giving you some lessons cause let me tell you that is one ugly-"

Epilogue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Hehe if you want to do what I did picture Azriel punching Cassian for that!

Everybody can thank the lovely @charlineraven for speaking this extra part into existence! (I'm so glad you did! 💕💕)

Just the epilogue to go now!

Also for all those expecting a big Elain confrontation I’m sorry! It felt wrong to belittle a woman just for having a crush (come on! Who can blame her I love Az so much)

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @iluvyewman-blog @going-through-shit @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobssessedmylove @honeybeeboobaa @justvibbinghere @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

#azriel oneshot #acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel

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chaos-of-the-abyss · 5 months

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akio and the coffin

it’s fascinating how akio both literally IS the coffin of ohtori academy and, simultaneously, is trapped by it. ohtori academy is in many ways a manifestation of the ugly side of adolescence, of clinging on to something in your past and refusing to move forward in your life. every character has something they continue to hold on to despite the fact that they ought to let it go for the sake of growing and maturing. for example, saionji has his inferiority complex regarding touga, his refusal to let go of the simplicity of their childhood together when he felt that they stood on the same ground, and that touga saw him as an equal. everything he does in the series is an attempt to make himself feel as though he is finally on equal grounds with touga. if he would only stop tying his self-image to the perception that touga is somehow above him, that touga looks down on him, then he would be able to let go of that sense of inferiority and move on. but he can’t. juri refuses to let go of the pain she feels regarding her past with shiori, and continues to see shiori as someone who is “innocent”, albeit cruelly - someone who is unknowing of the pain she causes juri through her actions when in fact, shiori in seducing the boy she thought juri loved was deliberately acting to hurt her. if juri would only realize and accept the true intentions behind shiori’s behavior, then she could get one step closer to understanding shiori, to being understood by her, and moving past the pain of shiori’s betrayal. but she can’t.

most of the characters, except utena and anthy of course, remain in ohtori by the end of the show. while they’ve all made progress in “maturing” thanks to the events they experienced throughout the series - both saionji and touga’s as well as juri and shiori’s relationships have gotten visibly better, as shown in the final medley of scenes - they still have more growing to do, hence why they remain in ohtori academy until their time comes. one day, the show suggests, they might also revolutionize their own worlds - their own selves - and finally leave the coffin of ohtori behind as well.

so where does that leave akio? i think he can be said to literally be the coffin of ohtori in that he is explicitly shown to try to manipulate others into remaining stagnant, to clinging on to whatever toxic things they are struggling to process and come to terms with, though this is of course only shown via the characters he most directly interacts with. naturally it comes across most clearly with anthy, although i think utena and to a less direct extent, touga, are the other two people who are the most straightforwardly influenced by him. when it comes to anthy, she clings to her love for the person her brother used to be, the older brother who, at least as she perceived, was kind and caring and wanted to protect people. to protect that older brother, she willingly took on the hatred of the world, and continues to endure the pain of it to this day for what is implied to be centuries. but akio has shown time and time again, through the repeating dueling cycles, that if he was ever kindhearted and genuinely caring, those parts of him are gone now. i do believe he cares about anthy to an extent even now, but whatever affection he has for her is paltry in comparison to his desire to reclaim his power as prince dios. it’s for that purpose that he set up the entire dueling system, for which he freely allows duelists to treat anthy like a prize and an object. and additionally, because anthy is so integral to the power he has now in ohtori, he uses emotional, psychological, physical, and sexual abuse to keep her tied to him. he’s willing to not just let her wellbeing come last, but puts it at the bottom of the list of priorities, and actively tears it down himself for his own benefit. anthy knows all this - but because she still holds onto that love that she had for who he used to be, she stays with him and does his bidding. and that’s what akio wants. he is the coffin, wishing to keep people in their states of despair, conflict, and pain, therefore ensuring that they are compliant and vulnerable to his manipulation.

at the same time, akio is trapped by the coffin like everyone else. he, like all the other characters, has something that he ought to move on from for his own sake as well as the sake of the people around him: his goal to reclaim his powers as prince dios. akio has failed in this goal every single dueling cycle that happened before the show’s events, and as displayed in the final episode, he definitively fails the one that takes place during the show as well. he can attempt the cycle over and over and over again, redo and tweak and modify the dueling system however many times and in whatever ways he wants - it’s all useless. there is no sword that can break open the rose gate. there is no way to reclaim his powers. they’re gone, that part of his life is over, and if he accepted that fact, it would allow him to move on and heal from what he experienced. but he can’t. at the very end of the series, right before anthy leaves ohtori for good, he’s typing away just as diligently as he ever did and, completely oblivious, tells anthy that he’s rewriting the rules of the rose crest, that he’ll be counting on her again. and i didn’t pick up on this until rewatching the episode, but it really just hits you then how utterly stupid he looks, working so hard and speaking so confidently about the upcoming dueling cycles as if any of them are ever going to matter in the slightest. i love anthy’s response to him too; i love the subtle but at the same time so blatant scorn in her words: “you really don’t know what’s happened, do you?” because once again, throughout all this, akio has learned nothing. he hasn’t realized it’s useless, what he’s trying to do; he hasn’t realized all the effort and pain and anguish he’ll cause in people for yet another dueling cycle will never make any difference. he is unable to come to terms with the reality that he will never have his powers as prince dios back. he refuses to move on.

akio is the coffin of ohtori, wanting to keep others in stagnation and regret. he’s also trapped by the coffin, incapable of maturing past his own stagnation and regret. and it really, really says something that all of the other major characters of the show, who have been in ohtori for far shorter a time than he has, have been able to make visible strides in their growth. anthy, who is the only one comparable to akio in terms of duration at ohtori, revolutionizes her world and leaves. meanwhile akio, as deluded and self-unaware as he is, hasn’t made a single step of progress in all this time. the only thing he does is call in bewildered desperation after anthy as she finally leaves him behind, still totally clueless as to what has happened.

tldr; i once saw an author say one of her characters represents inertia, in fact he is inertia. i think that’s a spot-on explanation of akio, at least in terms of what he symbolizes in the story. i want to beat him in the dick with a cactus

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thealiveshadow · 6 months

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Looking at all of the takes this chapter, and I thought about this Tokyo Ghoul quote that Eto Yoshimura wrote in her book “Dear Kafka”

"That time, so that no one (not even Father) would notice, I secretly rewrote the summary.

What cannot change can only be broken.

This is so to me, who left behind everything necessary inside the womb."

(There’s also this translation, which I think fits better into what AFO’s character, even if there are only a few words that were changed: “Then I, hidden from everyone (particularly father), stealthily rewrote the outline. Things that cannot be changed, can only be broken. From the view of I, who left all needed things in the womb.”)

And how this quote in a way truly summarizes, especially the last line, the way All for One thinks of himself and a way we, the audience, can view the way he thinks of himself. For example, the first line can be used in reference to how he changed the summary of the comic books him and Yoichi read together, in order to better fit his own wishes and desires. He doesn't accept the fact that Hero had defeated the Villain in the end, and decides to simply stop reading when the villain had won and become the Demon King, hereby rewriting the summary of the book to fit his own needs and desires. (So in that context, it should be "(not even Brother) would notice", but we'll let it slide this time for the sake of coherence) He then tries to LARP that twisted idea and that's how you end up with the current AFO, a man who thinks of himself to be the Demon King of comic books, and does what ever he possibly can to bring that reality of the summary of the comic books he rewrote.

I think the second line of the quote also is an indication of the way AFO thinks. To the core he doesn't believe that people cannot change, evidenced by the way he reacts when Lady Nagant is now fighting on the side of the heroes and when he starts losing to what he defines as a ''bunch of extras". He does not anticipate people to step outside of the lines that he drew around them and when they do go outside of those ideas and change (you know how people do) he throws tantrums and and refuses to acknowledge the fact that each person has their own autonomy and character, far beyond any neat little box he has put them into. And what he cannot change he wants to break. He wanted to break Yoichi by forcefully bestowing a quirk onto him, he wanted to break Tomura by grooming and manipulating him for the majority of his life into believing that he was simply born evil, and he wants to break all of the "extras" such as Stain, Jiro, Hawks, and Bakugou who go against the stereotypes he has placed them into, because to him these people can not change their so called "true nature", and therefore can only be broken.

Lastly, the third line, which I have been waiting impatiently to get to. I think this last line, truly shows the way AFO thinks of himself. In the chapter, All For One is shown to have cannibalized his mother as soon as he was born, and has been described as someone who simply took from others, without any regard, because he thought that anyone who could not give him *something* was useless. One could say that this is an indication of how All For One was evil from his birth, and therefore has no redeeming qualities. BUT this is My Hero Academia, good sir, where everyone is human. While framed in a horror like and grim way, it important to look past that and see the AFO/Yoichi backstory through the lens of BNHA's themes, which are all about humanizing villains and are against dehumanization in general. Imagine being newborn with a dead mother with no source of nutrition, and you have to eat her. You grow up with no one to protect your child self, no name, no sense of identity, no social security net, no one to help you differentiate between right and wrong, you are constantly being hunted for simply existing, and you are responsible for someone who is far weaker than you and have to find ways to protect yourself and him as well. So, of course you are going to grow up twisted, with disturbing ideals and cruel habits. But AFO and a lot of the MHA fandom doesn't see those factors, or refuse to acknowledge them. That's why I think this third line really displays AFO's mindset how he thinks he was evil from the womb. All things necessary to interact and engage with the world in a healthy way, such as the ability to show affection, to be caring, to be understanding, to have the methods of socialization, and have a acceptance of the autonomy of other individuals, and to be able to face and understand you own feelings in general, are abilities that have to be learned, they don't simply come to you in dream at night. But All for One does not think that, rather he refuses to humanize himself, and continues to play the role of the Demon King in the story he is trying to write, forever convinced that he was born like that from his mother's womb.

In summary, I think this quote from Eto Yoshimura really provides insight into the character AFO is and what he thinks of himself. He rewrote the summary of the comic books him and Yoichi read together, he doesn't believe that people can be changed, only be broken into what he wants them to be, and that he truly believes he has been evil from the very beginning, and any kind of "humanlike" trait he could have, was all left behind in his mother's womb.

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orionsangel86 · 1 year

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Subtext Glorious Subtext! A Dreamling on Netflix analysis in The Sandman - Part 6

1889

What love story is complete without a dramatic break up in the rain?

In the Sandman comic (and therefore also the Audible audiobook) this century starts the same way as the show, with Dream being accosted by Lushing Lou and that hilariously historically accurate yet mildly disturbing line “give us a hard ride on your cream stick”.

In the show, Hob overhears this and comes to meet Dream and to “save” him from Lou by giving her money to buy herself a drink. He apologises to Dream for her behaviour towards him.

This doesn’t happen in the comic. Dream simply walks past Lou and meets Hob where he is already sat in the tavern.

A minor change, but one that adds to the scene in a few ways:

It indicates that Hob was paying greater attention to the door waiting for Dream - in the show, he was more eager to meet him again.

It shows a level of care on Hob’s part to ensure that Dream has a comfortable visit. He overhears the run-in in the comic, but makes no effort to get involved. In the show, he takes a greater interest in ensuring Dream is not insulted or met with aggression - a follow on from his clear concern and care for Dream that was first implied in 1789. Basically, he has once again come to Dream’s defence.

He apologises for Lou’s behaviour. Which indicates that he feels a level of responsibility towards Dream and anything that may happen to him whilst he is visiting Hob.

All these minor elements add up to indicate that show!Hob at this point already sees Dream as someone to care for, defend, and feel responsible for on their visits. He has placed himself in the position of protector and companion to Dream. This is an easy interpretation to get from their dynamic in the show, as evidenced by the thousands of fanfictions on AO3 in which Hob is portrayed as rescuer, liberator, saviour, knight, or simply carer of Dream (all roles that I find difficult picturing comic!Hob taking on, because he is such a selfish hedonistic character in the comic).

The conversation in the show takes an interesting diversion from the comic, in which Dream defends Lou from Hob's joking insults about her. It shows a level of care for people that comic!Dream doesn't have (at least at this point). It also indicates an ability which I can't recall comic!Dream ever using. He reveals the tragedies of her past prompting Hob to once again ask about Dream. Where Comic!Hob is too self absorbed to even bother to ask more about Dream at this point, instead going off on tangents about other immortals he has met, Show!Hob is entirely focused on Dream. Show!Hob is persistent here, he doesn't let Dream change the subject, we can tell that by this century, he is getting fed up of being kept in the dark about the identity of his mysterious stranger, someone it is clear he is growing feelings for even without knowing his name.

When Dream once again changes the subject to talk about Lady Johanna and the task she did for him, unlike his comic counterpart, Hob is wistful and sad when he says "That might be the only thing I've learned after 500 years."

The show uses Hob's desire to know more about Dream as a repeating motif throughout their meetings, in a way the comics never did. It makes us as the audience root for Hob and want Dream to reveal who he is. This is another clever way the show is encouraging the audience to invest in their relationship. The show is telling us this is important. Watch how Dream holds back, how he refuses to reveal anything. There is a subtextual message here which encourages the audience to expect an eventual reveal, even if we do not see it. As I mentioned in part 5, Dream revealling his name to Hob has become a Chekov's gun of a kind, and Hob will get his name in the show, even if we as the audience don't see it on screen.

Hob comments that "people are always better than you think they are." and then jokes that he's not like that, that he is still the same as ever. and he winks at Dream as he says it, causing Dream to smile and state that he thinks Hob has changed. It's subtle, but the exchange shows how they have grown at ease with one another, and arguably this could be considered flirting, depending on whose watching. I quite like the change here not to bring up the slave trade again. I think the way Hob lets out that shuddered breath and talks about the mistakes he has made is enough in this version of the story. We aren't forgiving him for this. But the tone isn't right in this particular scene, which instead keeps the focus on the building buds of friendship that are clearly growing between these two extremely flawed people, before it all comes crumbling down.

There is a brilliant meta with full gifsets from @mimisempai here which breaks down all of the subtle expressions as Dream and Hob have this conversation, where for a tiny moment Dream appears to relax and look almost proud of Hob for growing into a better man. They exchange gorgeous shy smiles and for a moment the scene becomes intense, as if the characters are standing on a precipice waiting for something to happen.

But then it all goes wrong. The preceding scene, and the preceding centuries, have clearly had an impact on Hob, and he views Dream as someone important, someone special to him. It is on the foolish hopes of an overt optimist that he pushes Dream beyond his comfort levels. He proposes that they are friends, he dares to make an assumption about Dream, he calls him lonely.

He is, of course, totally correct.

But Dream is not at a point yet where he is ready to hear such things. In the comic, this plays out slightly differently. Hob rambles as follows:

But in the show, the conversation goes like this:

Dream: I think perhaps you've changed.

Hob: Well, I may have learnt a bit from my mistakes, but it doesn't seem to stop me from making them.

Dream: *Smiles proudly giving Hob some extra confidence*

Hob: I think its you that's changed.

Dream *smile immediately drops because the thought of changing is something he is soooo not ready to accept* How so?

Hob: *Leaning in, going for it* I think I know why we still meet here century after century. It's not because you want to know if I'm ready to seek death, I don't think I'll ever seek death. By now you know that about me. So I think you're here for something else.

Dream: And what might that be?

Hob: Friendship? I think you're lonely.

Dream: You dare...

Hob: No, look, I'm not saying-

Dream: You DARE suggest one such as I might need your companionship?

Hob: *with shakey breath because this clearly means so much to him* Yes. Yes I do.

Dream: Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong.

Sorry for writing out the whole transcript here but its important to see how the conversation was changed to be much more intimate and personal. In particular I find it veeeery interesting how instead of Hob saying "I've seen people, and they don't change, not in the important things." we get both Dream AND Hob stating that they believe the other HAS changed.

I know its only a minor line, but given the grander changes to the netflix show and the tone of the show in particular, this particular line change feels very intentional.

I love that as Dream goes to leave, Hob tried to move closer, to reach out to him, it indicates just how much he wants to build a connection with Dream and how much he cares, and it makes it all so much more intense than the comic.

In the comic, its interesting that Dream focuses on the "you called me lonely" part as the main insult here. It is the show that gives bigger weight to "you dared to suggest we may be friends, therefore I am going to PROVE YOU WRONG." Which at least on a subtextual level, can be read to indicate a fear of developing feelings and forming relationships. It's also worth noting that the show removed any indication that Dream considers Hob to be "mortal" now.

Then we get to the most dramatic moment in the entire MoGF sequence. A classic romantic trope that we have all seen done countless times before in countless love stories between countless couples, and yet here it is again between Dream and Hob.

As Dream storms off, of course Hob runs out to follow him (I particularly love how in the show, Dream doesn't grab his coat or hat when he leaves like he does in the comic, which leaves it open as to what happened to them - and I love how in fanfiction its revealled that Hob kept hold of them over the years as the only items of Dream's he had along with the picture from 1689). In the show, the rain falls heavily over both of them further emphasising the heightened emotions and dramatic situation - we all love a dramatic rain soaked break up after all! :P

I brought this scene in 1889 up in this meta which is a collaborative analysis of Hob and Dream's relationship, and it is also emphasised in this meta by @academicblorbo, but it is worth mentioning again because of how much of an impact this particular change has:

There's a big difference between a fairly nonchalant lean against the door in the comic and the visually upset, rainsoaked Hob from the show shouting out "FUCK" as he watches Dream storm off.

That final "FUCK" isn't in either comic or Audible book, because Hob in the comic/Audible book isn't nearly as bothered by Dream's leaving.

The way show!Hob is so very different from comic!Hob blows my mind once you break it down, but it is his interest, care, and concern for Dream that really speaks volumes and makes it so easy to interpret his feelings for Dream as more than just platonic.

Next up, the heartbreaking missed 1989 meeting and how the timeline change has given Dream and Hob's relationship far more romantic implications in part 7.

#sandman meta #dreamling #dreamling meta #sandman analysis #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my meta #the sandman #the sandman comics #sandman comic spoilers #dreamling week #dreamling week 2023

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reccyls · 1 year

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William's Chapter 10 Premium Attire Story

Fervido: As Though Burning

So this one is a bit of a doozy. I also used the default MC name Kate here instead of MC like I usually do, as it kind of feels weird in the context of translating some more specifically romantic/spicier scenes to just be going "MC" all the time.

I also should say that though they do sleep together, there is no explicit description of it here, or any shirtless sprites. Guess that's being saved for later on.

As always I make no guarantees on the accuracy.

Some context and the full story below the cut:

Context: The previous day, Kate went along with William, Roger, Alfons, and Elbert on a mission. They investigated an illegal morphine producing operation, where slaves/indentured servants were being forced to refine opium. Kate realized some of her own powerlessness as she was unable to directly save the people being exploited (particularly a young girl), but they were all rescued later on and sent to a Crown-sponsored hospital ward.

Today, Kate and William went to visit them to see how they were doing at the hospital. They get caught in the rain on their way back, and when Kate suggests to find somewhere to wait it out, William instead says that he actually likes being out in the rain. He asks if Kate would like to join him. She thinks about how the person she was before probably would have refused for any number of good reasons (they'd get sick, their clothes would be ruined, etc), but now Kate wants to understand William. She wants to know why he likes the things he does. So she accepts.

We slipped through the dense forest and crossed the drawbridge leading back to the castle. Pulling me along by the hand, William led me past the entrance and instead cut around to the back garden.

(Wow…)

The pouring rain lent the blooming garden a mysterious, captivating beauty. The atmosphere was completely different than when I had seen the garden while it was sunny.

(…I didn’t know the garden would look this pretty in the rain.)

While I was captivated by the sight, William brushed aside a strand of hair that had stuck to my cheek, tucking it behind my ear.

William: How does it feel to be drenched by the rain?

Kate: How do I feel…?

I turned my thoughts inward. Feeling the cold rain hitting my skin, I suppose it did feel a little indecent.

(I feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t… But--) (The feel of the cold rain growing lukewarm as it saps my body heat, as it slides off my skin …) (I’m chilled to the bone and the only warmth I feel is from the things I’m touching…) (And when William fixed my hair for me… All of that--)

Kate: It feels good.

Even I was surprised at my own answer. My heart began to race.

(We like the same thing, William and I.)

Kate: It feels good to be in the rain.

Buoyed by my happiness, I repeated my answer.

William: …Hehe.

Kate: What are you laughing at?

William: You have a nice look on your face. William: So this is how you look when you truly smile.

Kate: Huh…? Ah…

-Flashback- William: At last, you let me see a smile. Kate: …Have I not been smiling? William: Not really. Even now, you’re not showing a full smile. -End Flashback-

William: …It’s beautiful, incredibly so.

(…!)

Kate: Please don’t just say things like that…

William: Why not?

Kate: …It’s bad for my heart.

I could hear my pulse racing in my ears. As though every nerve in my body had gathered there, I became painfully aware of our intertwined fingers. I had a feeling that pursuing why I felt that way would lead to an uncomfortable situation, so I quickly changed the subject.

Kate: …By the way, why didn’t we go in through the entrance like usual?

William: Hm? William: Because I like the garden in the rain.

(Because he likes it?)

William didn’t hesitate to give his reason for his actions: simply because he liked it. If he liked something, if he loved it, he’d protect it. If he hated something, if he couldn’t allow it, he’d pass judgment. He stayed true to his desires and made no excuses for his actions.

(If I could be more like William… If I could make choices without hesitation, if I could say “I like it, therefore I’m doing it”…) (If I could live while being proud of my decisions… I think I could like myself as a person more.)

William: And, I didn’t feel like flooding the castle if we had used the normal entrance.

Kate: …Well, that is true. If we came back looking like this, it’d cause trouble for the others.

If we’d gone through the front entrance, we probably would have caused quite the fuss for the castle servants.

(…Thank goodness. If that had happened, I would have had to let go of his hand.) (It’s kind of embarrassing, having something like that be my main reason.)

William: I’ll see you back to your room. You’ll catch a chill if you stay out for too long.

---

The sound of two pairs of footsteps walking down the hallway blended in with the sound of rain falling outside.

(…We’ll reach my room soon.)

As I thought that, my feet suddenly felt heavy. I lagged behind.

William: …Kate?

Kate: Ah, I’m sorry…

William was walking a little bit ahead of me. When he noticed me slowing, he stopped and looked back. Flustered, I quickened my pace.

(I should hurry back to my room, change my clothes, and warm up. And William should too. We’ll both catch a cold otherwise.)

The both of us stopped in front of the door to my bedroom.

William: …

(I should let go of his hand. Open the door.) (…I know I should, but for some reason my body won’t let me.)

William: …You’re not going in?

Kate: I…

(That’s right. I still haven’t thanked him, for today and for yesterday.) (That must be why I can’t make myself leave yet.)

Kate: Thank you for escorting me back. Kate: And thank you for coming with me to the hospital… Kate: …and for what you said to me yesterday.

William: Those were all things that I wanted to do for you. No thanks are necessary.

Kate: I’m still grateful anyway.

(At that time, you…)

-Flashback- William: Just because you couldn’t save them doesn’t mean you have to give up on who you are, Kate. William: Haven’t you punished yourself enough? -End Flashback-

(Because of your approval, I didn’t have to silence myself anymore.) (No, even before that…)

-Flashback- William: The only one who can acknowledge and give voice to your true desires is you, Kate. -End Flashback-

(Because you listened to everything that I had been holding back and repressing…) (My heart can continue to be true to itself.)

Kate: Because of you… I’ve started to like myself a little bit more.

(Even though he’s dangerous, even though he still someone who holds himself at a distance… What I said is true.)

William: Only “a little bit”, you say? You really are modest. William: I like the current you a lot. Compared to when we first met, you’re become far more captivating.

Kate: …

(First it was “beautiful”, now he says he likes me “a lot”. I know he doesn’t mean anything special when he says it.) (I’m sure that he’d say the same to anyone… So that’s why…)

Kate: T-thank you.

William: You’re welcome.

He tilted his head in amusement, and a drop of rain fell from his hair, tracing down his cheek. As if following the path that the droplet drew down the contours of his face and neck, my gaze went to his body. I could feel the urge to do something unwise welling within me, so I hurriedly opened my mouth to speak.

Kate: S-so, I’ll be going now—

(I have to let go of his hand. Now.)

William: Can’t have you catching a cold now.

(Ah…)

William pulled back first; his fingers slipped out of mine.

--And at that moment, the hammering of my pulse reached a fever pitch.

(No.) (I don’t want him to go yet.)

As if drawn in by his red gaze, I pressed my mouth to his. Though my lips were cold, where we touched, I felt heat beginning to bloom. Warm, soft, wet. And, somehow, sweet—

William: …Mm…

(--!?)

As we broke off to breathe, I suddenly came back to myself.

Kate: …Ah…

William: …

We stared into each other’s eyes, the closest we had ever been. Immediately, I felt my entire body grow hot.

Kate: I- I…

(Why did I kiss him…)

Kate: Um, that was… I-!

As I was backing away, my foot caught on something and I stumbled. But I didn’t fall, something was holding me up. It took me a moment to realize that it was William, his arm wound around my waist.

(Ah…?)

My legs seemed to go numb, a sweet shiver running through my body.

Kate: I- I’m sorry…

William: …Why are you apologizing?

Kate: Because, I… I did something-

William: “Something bad?”

Kate: ...ah…

William’s finger traced the curve of my cheek. Though we were touching, it was as if he was inviting me to cross another gap.

(Why did he ask that? (Wasn’t he the one who said it before?) (That stealing a kiss from someone without permission is a grave sin?)

William: …

His gaze was expectant as he waited for “my” answer. Asking me if this truly was something I considered wrong. Asking me to make a choice.

(I don’t know.) (I don’t know anything.)

Kate: …When I’m with you… I’m no longer myself…

Whatever he’s done to me, whether his actions have been a cure or a poison or something else entirely, it’s steeped into my body. Changed me. Dragged out desires I didn’t know I had.

Kate: I… I wasn’t the kind of person who would do something like this before…

William: …And is that a good thing? Or a bad one?

He looked at me with appraising eyes, as if he were still testing me. Waiting for my answer. My decision.

Kate: I… I don’t know.

William: Hmm?

Kate: So…

-Flashback- William: It’s best if you realize for yourself, the distinction between what you find good and bad. -End Flashback-

Kate: I don’t know yet, so… Kate: Please let me learn.

William: …All right. I will.

And this time, I was in full control over myself as I caught his upturned lips in another kiss. Tangled in each other, we slipped into my room. Normally my room smelled only of fresh linen, but now the rose fragrance that surrounded William filled the air. My thoughts grew giddy.

Kate: Nn… Hah…

William: Mm… Haha, relax.

He had one arm around me and mine were looped around his neck as we exchanged kisses. His laughter tickled my lips.

William: If you cling on to me so tightly, the only thing we’ll be doing is kissing. William: …Though if that’s all you want, I don’t mind.

He raised an eyebrow, testing me to see my reaction. My heart and my body were already going wild from just kisses alone. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. Maybe I really was greedy, just like he said.

Kate: Mmm…

William: That’s it… Good girl.

As I loosened my grip, his hands began to move as though he were presenting a reward.

Kate: Ah…

As I felt his hand caress my back over my soaked clothes, I pressed the back of my hand over my mouth to stifle the sounds I was making.

William: …Kate.

With a hint of reproach in his voice as he called my name, he pressed a kiss to my palm.

Kate: Nnn…

William: Hm…

As if to soothe me, he pressed kisses to my skin over and over again; the sound of kissing filled the air. Don’t hide, he was telling me. Let me hear your voice.

(…This is… too much…)

I lowered my hand.

William: …

Smiling happily, William kissed the tip of my nose. And continuing on from before, his hand continued to make its way up my back.

Kate: Mm! …

William: Are you cold?

Kate: Th-that’s not it.

I wish I could have blamed the way my voice leaked out of me on the chill of my clothes. But I couldn’t even have the ability to think up an excuse. All I could focus on was how hot everywhere he touched me felt. His hand reached the nape of my neck, reaching the ribbons that kept my blouse closed. And then he tugged the ribbon loose.

Kate: Ah!

I felt his fingers graze the bare skin of my nape as he did. Just that sent a stab of something sweet to the pit of my stomach. If William hadn’t been supporting me, I would have collapsed to the floor.

(My body is…) (Feeling… strange…)

William: More… William: Let me hear more.

As if pulling apart a rose petal by petal, the wet clothes clinging to my skin were slowly removed one layer at a time, along with each inhibition that was keeping my voice in check.

Kate: Ah, ah… William…

William: Yes?

My bare body trembled at his every touch. Here was no way for me to hide anything from him anymore.

(I can’t hide anymore, so…)

Kate: I want to touch you too.

My fingers clung to his wet clothes like a plea.

William: …Of course. Be my guest.

As soon as I saw him smile, I realized that he had been waiting for me to ask. From the very beginning, he knew what I was thinking before I myself did.

(William is dangerous.) (But, even so, I’m drawn to him.) (So much so that I’m scared I might lose myself, and never be able to find my way back.) (It’s been that way ever since we met.)

#ikemen villains #william (ikevill)#my translation

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cyantomatos · 1 year

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Even Stars Will Fall - Ch 6

Pairing: Eventual Oberyn Martell x fem!Reader x Ellaria Sand Word Count: ~2.5k Warnings: Rylan is a creep, talk of death (in the past) Notes: Uh...surprise? Listen I am just as upset as you guys that it’s taken me this long to update 😅. I really am sorry, I’ve wanted to work on this story, but every time I sat down to write it I just couldn’t. The next chapter is already written, I’ll put that out in a couple weeks, and I’m hopeful that I’m going to be able to keep up with writing now. Crossing my fingers, but I’m not promising anything because I really don’t want to disappoint you guys if I disappear again.

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The first time Oberyn remembers his elder brother acting as a ruling Prince of Dorne was in his 16th year.

With the rumors swirling of his blade being poisoned in the duel with Lord Edgar Yronwood, his brother had called Oberyn to his office. Doran had only been the ruling prince for a few years by then, and had not as of yet had any reason to call an official meeting with his younger brother.

The two had never been particularly close, Doran being almost 13 by the time Oberyn was born, but they were still family. Doran believed his brother’s protests that the blade was not poisoned - Oberyn would not start to experiment with poisons for another few years yet - but the prince still knew he needed to appease House Yronwood.

And so Oberyn was banished to a temporary exile.

The next visit to his brother’s office was years later, after his exile is finally over and Robert’s Rebellion is quelled. News of the rebellion had reached across the Narrow Sea, and Oberyn had been incensed at the fact that he was unable to fight, relegated to a far off country with only weeks-old news to get him by.

The news of Ellia’s death hit him hard. He was unable to enter that office again for years. The sight of his brother behind the desk their mother had sat behind and her father before that and generations of Martel’s back that suddenly seemed far too large for Doran only brought back memories Oberyn wasn’t ready to face yet.

He blamed his brother for a while - for his inability to keep their sister safe, for banishing Oberyn where Oberyn couldn’t keep their sister safe. Then he blamed himself - if he had fought harder, if he’d snuck back into Dorne like he originally intended, if he had just been better.

Suffice to say, Oberyn hated being called to his brothers office. Nothing good ever came from an official summons from the elder Prince of Dorne in Oberyn’s experience, and he had a feeling today was not about to prove him wrong.

“It seems our cousin has finally settled on a wife.” Doran’s statement was met with a snort from Oberyn as the younger brother came to stand in front of the desk.

“I pity the poor woman that ends up shackled to Rylan. To whom should I send my condolences?” Doran only met him with a level stare, the silence from his brother all Oberyn needed to draw his own conclusions and for a pit of dread to begin forming in his stomach.

What was it about this office and bad news?

“Tell me I am assuming wrong, brother.” A note of pleading that very rarely showed itself entered Oberyn’s voice, and he felt the sinking feeling in his stomach only grow as Doran grimaced.

“I wish I could. He was here while the three of you were visiting Amphise. I must admit, even if I were able to grant his request, I do not think I would be inclined. I have no desire to see the girl tied to Rylan, regardless of his relation to our family.” Oberyn let himself relax slightly at that, although he couldn’t quite shake the urge to hunt his cousin down for even looking in your direction.

He flexed his hand at his side, letting a long breath out his nose before he responded.

“You refused then, I assume?”

Doran inclined his head in confirmation, still looking rather grim. “She is not a citizen of Dorne, regardless of where she might be from. I do not have the power to force her hand, and I am glad of it.” The prince let out a sigh, watching his brother closely. “That does not mean he will not go to her directly, however. With her having no male relatives here he has the option of attempting to persuade her himself, and if she were to agree I would have equally little say in the matter.”

Oberyn’s jaw clenched hard enough for his teeth to grind together, swiftly looking away from Doran out the open window. He knew if he only took a few steps he might see you in the garden below, although you were equally as likely to be working in one of the other gardens today. The urge to go find you immediately, to ensure his cousin had not yet attempted to convince you and make sure you were safe, threatened to overwhelm him for a moment.

It took him a moment to realize what was happening.

When he had first met Ellaria, there was an undeniable attraction. He should have recognized the signs with you, the way he was drawn to both of you with no say in the matter, but he had been under the assumption one could only have a single soulmate. As soon as the bond with Ellaria was confirmed, and more importantly as soon as he recognized it, that pull had snapped into something more tangible. For a while after, any perceived threat to either of them stirred something primal in the other.

It was happening again with you, possessive instincts he prided himself on being able to ignore were rising to the surface in an attempt to protect you, and he could do little to stop it.

Doran’s voice broke through his turbulent thoughts. “Oberyn. What did Amphise say?”

He turned back to his brother, jaw clenching further at the knowing frown on his brother’s face.

“She is a seer, as we assumed. Her powers were likely suppressed by being in her world and so far from ours. Amphise is willing to train her to ensure she does not grow out of control.” Oberyn paused, eyes lowering to stare at Doran’s desk. “And she is mine and Ellaria’s second soulmate.”

A heavy silence filled the room, and when Oberyn looked up he didn’t find as much surprise on his brother’s face as he expected. Doran only leaned back in his chair, hands folded in his lap, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I am…not overly surprised. You have been just as drawn to her since she arrived as you were to Ellaria, although I assumed it was because of the mystery she presented.”

A beat of silence later, “I assume she does not know?” Oberyn let out a strained laugh at that, crossing his arms and glancing away. “No. We decided we would wait to tell her. Ellaria is worried she would either not understand, or feel pressured to be with us because of the bond. Her world…it is less understanding.”

Doran only nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he studied his brother. “You will have to tread lightly on this, Oberyn.”

Oberyn nodded, a resigned look on his face.

“I know.”

“You aren’t concentrating, girl.” The sharp words cause you to let out a frustrated sigh, slumping in your seat.

I am, Amphise, but you can’t expect me to figure this out in a week. You said seer’s are trained from childhood, how am I supposed to catch up?” There’s a whine in your voice that you don’t like, but the last several very long days training – or attempting to train – with Amphise have left you tired and irritable.

If you were honest with yourself, it was more than the less-than-satisfactory attempts to gain some kind of control over your new-found powers that was frustrating you. You’d been somewhat avoiding Oberyn and Ellaria since your revelation in the garden, and it was starting to wear on you. Combine that with the frustrating training and Oberyn’s cousin Rylan suddenly appearing around you constantly, you were frazzled to say the least.

A sharp tap to the back of your hand with Amphise’s paper fan brought you back from your internal debate about which slimy creature Oberyn’s cousin reminded you of the most. She was staring at you sternly, disappointment written clearly on her face.

“You are afraid of your powers. That fear is holding you back. I did not tell you the stories about what other seer’s have done with their power to frighten you, child. I told you so that you would know the consequences if you did not control your powers.” The reminder of the stories Amphise had told you last week felt like a pit in your stomach. You were scared of your powers, but you were also well aware that better control over them would help prevent those stories from becoming your reality.

“I know that, Amphise. I can’t help my fear, though. I’m afraid I won’t ever gain control and I’ll end up like those girls.” Your teacher’s face softens just slightly at your words, and she lets out a sigh, leaning forward.

“It is possible I am going about teaching you wrong. I have taught many seers, but all of them were born here and discovered as children. It is much easier to teach children to do something scary, adults have learned fear already.” She sits back, a look of contemplation coming across her face.

Several silent moments pass before she stands, gesturing towards the house. Your classes thus far have taken place in the same outside sitting area you had met her in last week, fragrant breezes blowing through the garden as you learned.

Or attempted to learn.

“We will end early today, child. You need rest, and I need to think.”

Your excitement at being let go early quickly turns sour as you step out of the carriage back at the palace. Rylan is coming out the front entrance, and the way his eyes light up like he’s looking at a prize horse when he sees you sends a disgusted chill down your spin. He changes course from the carriage he had been heading towards to walk towards you, and you take a moment to arrange your face in a less please-get-away-from-me expression.

“Lord Rylan, what a pleasant surprise.” You hope how not pleasant you think this is doesn’t come through in your voice. The last thing you need is a spoiled lord that is obviously jealous of his cousins kicking up a fuss for you being rude.

He chuckles, stopping about one step too close for your comfort. Not that anywhere near you was far enough away as far as you were concerned.

“I do hope one day you will be comfortable dropping my title like you do with my cousin.” You give what you hope comes across as more of a grin and less of a grimace, shrugging one shoulder noncommittally.

“We’ll see, I suppose.”

Rylan’s grin falters for a moment, and he glances over towards his awaiting carriage. “I was just heading out to see a play being put on, something about a tragic love story. Would you like to accompany me?”

You squash your immediate ‘I would rather eat live worms’ response and give a polite smile, shaking your head. “I’m a little tired today, I’m afraid. I was planning to go take a bath and then a nap. I apologize, Lord Rylan.”

Despite the rejection his expression doesn’t falter this time as he shrugs. “Next time then, my dear.”

You wait what you hope is an appropriate time as he walks away to shudder and head inside. Spending time with a deadly viper sounds more appealing to you than spending time with Rylan, alone or not.

Later that evening as the sun is setting you’re out in the main garden, checking on some of the flowers. Solomon had mentioned the day before he was worried about the Jester’s Tassels in the current heat. It had been warmer than normal the last few days, apparently, and he was worried they would wilt.

A shadow falls over the flowers you’re currently checking on, and you look up to see Ellaria smiling down at you. “I think at this rate we may have to hire you as a gardener, love. You seem to live out here lately.”

You smile despite the anxiety at seeing Ellaria, looking back down at the flowers. “I loved gardening back home, too, I just wasn’t very good at it. The plants here seem to like me better.” Yet another thing to add to the list of reasons it seems like you belong here more than anywhere else.

Another reason sits down on the garden wall next to you, gazing down at the vibrant purple and gold blooms. There’s a beat of silence, and despite your recent avoidance of the two of them just being next to Ellaria feels more like home than you remember your world ever feeling like.

“Oberyn’s name day is next week. There will be a large party, and I am afraid I might be under selling it a little just calling it large.” She pauses, folding her hands together in her lap. “Will you attend?”

You glance up, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Ellaria smiles slightly, shrugging a shoulder. “It has felt a little like you are avoiding us lately, dove. Although I suppose that could just be Oberyn’s ego speaking.”

You duck your head to look at the flowers again, guilt filling you as you shake your head. “I’ve just been busy with Amphise is all. I’ll be there.” You look up again, trying to ignore how the lie just makes you feel more guilty. “Do you give presents for name days?”

“Usually, yes, although not always. Especially for princes. Oberyn has everything he could want, and he usually dislikes getting the type of useless and lavish presents people get for a prince.” She grins, leaning down towards you. “For his twenty-first name day one of his mothers cousins gave him a set of sheets spun entirely of pure gold thread. I have never heard him complain for so long about the frivolity of the rich before.”

You grin at the story, imagining a younger Oberyn ranting about rich people for hours to a despairing Ellaria.

Ellaria straightens up, placing a hand on your leg. “You, however, will not be expected to get him a gift. I can help you find something small he would like, if you wish, but Oberyn will not expect anything from you, dove.”

You look back down at the flowers, frowning. It makes sense that Oberyn wouldn’t expect anything from you, since it’s not like you had much to give him anyway, but you still felt like you should get him something. It felt rude to show up to what was essentially a birthday part with no gift, even if it was a massive birthday party for a prince who already had everything he could possibly want.

Soft fingers brushed against your temple, pushing your hair back out of your face. Ellaria’s hand slides down, cupping your jaw to lift your head. She’s smiling softly at you, and the combination of her touch and the open affection on her face dazes you for a moment. “I can practically hear you thinking. I promise, just your presence will make Oberyn happy.”

Later that night, lying in bed, you’re still thinking about the conversation. Partly to replay what Ellaria’s touch felt like in your mind, and partially because you still can’t shake the feeling that you need to find something to get Oberyn.

When you finally manage to calm your mind enough to begin to drift off, you’re pulled out of your almost-sleep with a sudden idea.

You know exactly what to get Oberyn.

Taglist: I know tags are being kinda iffy, but I’m still going to put them in because I don’t have that many so it doesn’t take much time

@sarahjkl82-blog @ecuadorlady @fan-of-encouragement @knivesareout @writeforfandoms @gorgeousgrogu @leto-duke @xoxabs88xox @kirsteng42 @hauntedmama @urofficial-cyberslut @marvelousmermaid @tanzthompson @lowlights @dobbyjen @tanzthompson

Join my taglist here!

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #ellaria sand x reader #oberyn martell x you #ellaria sand x you #ESWF #Even Stars Will Fall

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spiegelgestalt · 1 month

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Arc 4 of Re:zero is a really great Vampire story

One of the most fascinating relationships dynamics in re:zero is the shit show between Echidna/Roswaal/Beatrice. (In the anime, I haven't read the light novel yet). Because it's just such a good example of a Gothic tragic vampire story. Spoilers for season 2 under the cut:

so what do I mean with vampire story? Except for Echidna none of these characters are vampires. And it's not confirmed with Echidna (though she has the same eyes as Elsa. AND Garfiel mentions that one of the witches was a vampire and since his faction is really closely related to Echidna it makes sense that it's her).

BUT they are all very very old and at the same time unable to grow and move on. Echidna is literally (un)dead. Her soul is trapped in an old tomb. Beatrice is at the same time a little girl who can never grow up (the most horrific of the vampire tropes imo) and an old woman who survived all her loved ones, trapped in a library while the world passed her by. Roswaal is an eternal young man, obsessed with getting the past back. Obsessed with having his lover back even if she will never love him back the way he wants. (And isn't it interesting that he mostly remembers the fun he had with Beatrice...) His relationship to Echidna feels incestuous (mother/son) to me even if they are not related by blood. Roswaal too can never grow up (Emilia correctly notes that he is a huge child like Betty) at the same time he literally steals the bodies of his descendants. He takes their future for himself in a desperate bit not to die. For me this is what good vampire stories are fundamentally about: beings who rather burn in eternal damnation than let go of the past. Beings who sacrifice the future for the past because for them the past is all there is.

The second important things about vampires is destructive love/desire. And because re:zero is smart it seperates those things from sex and can make a better statement than just sex is kinda evil. Because here is the thing: I truly believe that Echidna loves at least Beatrice in her own fucked up way. On paper she does a lot of things correctly: she wants Beatrice to grow up, she wants her to chose a person for herself, she gives her all the knowledge that she has, she doesn't dictate her future. But at the same time she binds Beatrice in a fucked up contract, she experiments what Beatrice might do, she sacrifices Beatrice's best friend without regard to her feelings at all. She is unable to let her go. She has to give her an empty book of wisdom. Even Beatrice's free decision must somehow be part of her web.

And Roswaal? Actually we don't see that much of Echidna/Roswaal but from what we see she makes him dependent on her and into a willing accomplice of her schemes. She uses his love which after a while turns into obsession because he knows it can never be returned.

But the most tragic part are Roswaal and Beatrice. Because Roswaal desperately desperately loves Beatrice and he is no idea how to relate to her except through manipulation. He tried to be her person (she refused him) but because he wasn't open, because he didn't share his grief there was no connection between them. Just two bitter siblings sniping at each other. And Roswaal knew that Beatrice was unhappy and that is probably part of the reason why he tries to kill her. She wanted to die the same way he wanted to die (and is that not delicious: he plans to revive Echidna but he doesn't plan to be with her because he hates himself so much. He plans to die and he wouldn't leave Betty behind...). BUT I think the other reason is that he really is jealous of Subaru. Because Subaru manages to talk to Beatrice, get her out of her shell, and if Beatrice starts growing what would that mean for him? And still he doesn't want to make Beatrice sad. It fucking enrages him when Puck implies that this might be the consequences of his actions

And at the end? They stand together next to the grave of their mother (yeah I'm saying it fuck you) and are finally able to connect about their grief. And I know Roswaal doesn't deserve it but I really hope his relationship to Beatrice gets better. Because Beatrice needs people who see her for the old woman she is. And just: Re:zero is about forgiveness and these siblings have been lonely for so long and I want them to reconnect.

#Re:zero #roswaal l mathers #Grand Spirit Beatrice #Echidna #Fucked up family dynamics #Content warning #Suicide #Implied incest #Murder #Violence against women #Typical rezero stuff #Spoiler #Edited to fix some spelling errors and add a caption

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1st-recon-lylith-blog · 2 months

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Lylith Embersong, the Songsmith

A watercolor painting of my bard from Baldur's Gate 3

Lylith Embersong was a tiefling child born into a traveling troupe. Her mother (a tiefling) taught her fighting and her father (a human) taught her music. Many years prior, the troupe leader had reneged on a contract with Raphael. The troupe leader hid for years while on the run, but Korilla tracked him down. Lylith is playing in the troupe leader’s tent (he was like a grandfather to her) but when Korilla shows up, he sends Lylith away. Lylith eavesdrops outside the tent, but can barely hear the conversation. Korilla warns the troupe leader that surrendering means only some will perish, but trying to escape again will result in the entire troupe’s death. The troupe leader surrenders.

Raphael sends imps to destroy the troupe. Lylith is one of the few escapees, but her parents die in the attack, while saving her. The knowledge “This is what happens when you mess with the hells” burns into the brains of the survivors. Lylith is unaware of Raphael’s role in destroying the troupe and murdering her family. Her only clues are that a devil, the troupe leader, and the threatening dwarf woman are connected to the attack. All Lylith has left of her parents are the red earrings she had stolen from her mother’s jewelry box (red scintilla), her father’s violin, and the clothes on her back.

Most of the survivors from the troupe settle in Baldur’s Gate, including Lylith Embersong. She survives by busking on street corners, playing her father’s violin for coin. Times are rough and money is hard to come by. (It's easy to imagine that if she had been unlucky she might’ve crossed paths with Astarion in those rough days.) Thankfully as she grows older, her skills gain her enough recognition that she’s hired to work patriar functions. Lylith’s skill in discerning people’s intentions sharpens working the cutthroat world of nobility.

Lylith is filled with trepidation when she meets Raphael in Act 1, but she dismisses those feelings as her past, haunting her. Her sense of paranoia heightens when she sees Korilla at the tiefling party. Before Lylith can interrogate her, Korilla vanishes. Her feelings intensify, in Act 2, when she meets Yurgir and Lyrthindor and learns about their contracts. Finally, in Act 3, Lylith meets Korilla at Sharess’s Caress. Lylith wants to grab Korilla by the arms and question her, but knows that playing things cool will get her more information. Korilla drops the name of her employer, ‘Raphael’.

If Korilla works for Raphael, then it was Raphael who killed her family and the troupe. Mind reeling, she goes upstairs and sees the argument between Voss and Raphael. When Lylith speaks to Raphael, she realizes he’s playing her. Either Raphael doesn’t know he was the cause of her parents’ deaths (unlikely that he wouldn’t know the souls affected by that attack), or he is playing dumb on purpose because he thinks she doesn’t know. (Can you imagine how gleeful Raphael would be? To cause a soul’s misery in early life. To be the cause for its burning desire for vengeance? And then to bind that soul in a legal contract? Do you really think he’d ever let her go?)

Raphael offers her the contract. Lylith is upset that Raphael would try to use her after what he did to her family, so she refuses him, but keeps her realization quiet. She is waiting for the perfect moment to strike. In his arrogance, Raphael slips up and grants her the path towards vengeance. He tells Lylith the location of the Orphic hammer. With this knowledge, she concocts a plan. She plans to break into his house for two reasons: to steal the Orphic Hammer and to lure Raphael back to kill him in the Hells (permanent death for Devils). It is a hard fought battle, but Lylith Embersong prevails. She slays Raphael. She’s a tiefling, a child of the hells too, and no one messes with a child of the hells.

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linilou-von-hevring · 8 months

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Mind and Heart - Heart

First | AO3

Please, Sothis, let this be the right choice.

Calloused fingers curl over the tactician’s hand.

Please, Sothis, let this not be a mistake.

Silence engulfs the conference room as Byleth walks out of it alongside Claude. There is no plausible scenario where she chooses both leaders, no matter how much she wishes she could have. No matter how much she wishes she could have continued watching Claude and Edelgard grow, watch them take their places as the respective leaders of the Alliance and of the Empire, watch them come together over a shared goal, she knows such a fantasy is impossible. They don’t share a goal. At least, not anymore, not in the fine print of their desires. Until now, everything had worked in their favor. Until now, the war had opposed them to a common enemy. This had been a two-sided war. Now, it splits into three camps.

The walk through the monastery halls is eerily quiet. Neither Claude nor Byleth dare say a word; there is no reason to test the monastery ghosts. There is no reason to draw attention to them as they thread the shadows, avoiding the gaze of every passing soldier. A single sound, a single out-of-place movement, that could be enough to send them both tumbling, the floor caving in under their heavy steps.

Please, Sothis, let this not be the end.

“Teach?”

The voice startles Byleth, but the squeeze of her hand brings her back to her senses. Claude is there, right by her side, his fingers still tangled with hers. He’s looking at her with his green eyes, eyes that remind Byleth of pastures and the few idyl days she had had in her youth. She didn’t enjoy them enough; she realizes this too late. She didn’t enjoy the peaceful days until they were taken from her. She didn’t enjoy them enough until she was plunged into the midst of a war with no winner, even once it would finally come to an end. Everything had been ripped from her hands before she could enjoy them, but not this time. She won’t let this bit of joy and comfort be taken from her as well.

The sun shines brightly outside the north court. It blinds her, but Byleth won’t let a little sunshine stop her. She marches forth, marches with conviction, refusing to give in to the gloom that had started to build in the back of her mind. She marches forth to her chambers, her fingers tightening around Claude’s as he follows without questions.

“We need to gather our things and leave before Edelgard sends someone after us.”

Claude gives her a curt nod, but he makes no move to free himself from her grip. He makes no attempt to leave her side, to rush to his own room to gather his stuff. He doesn’t change anything, nothing but his speed as he falls into step with Byleth. He simply follows, follows her lead as he always has. And for this, Byleth is grateful. She isn’t sure what she would have done had she been left to her own devices.

The professor’s room is tidy, as always. The bed looks untouched; the shelves are lined with books and papers. The only place that seems lived in is the desk, a mess of papers covering the wooden surface, notebooks and quills left lying around. It stands out in the small room, as if it belonged in some place else. The mess, Byleth realizes, it’s the only thing that shows that she has spent any time in this room. The rest, it’s as neat as the first time she had stepped into the small room that would soon become her home. Become her hell.

Byleth makes her way to her desk, rummaging through the papers. She doesn’t need the multitude of battle plans – she’d need an army to execute them. She doesn’t need the scribbled notes on everyone’s strengths and weaknesses – she’d memorized what she really needs, anyway. All she needs are a few memories. All she needs are a few things to keep her from forgetting the past. All she needs are the few remains of happy days, days without doom looming overhead.

Letters collect between the professor’s fingers. They come from everyone that has impacted Byleth’s life in some way or another – supply lists from her father, flirtations from Sylvain, invitations to tea from Ferdinand, idle monastery gossip from Hilda. Innocence plagues the letters, an innocence that pangs against Byleth’s chest. Those days, those school days with all the students, those days spent roaming the monastery in ignorant bliss of the future, they seem so far away now. It feels like a lifetime separates her from those days she wishes she had enjoyed just a little more.

A notebook rests against the tactician’s palm, a notebook that once belonged to her father. It’s one of the few things that remains of him. Even the memories feel like they’re fading away. But this notebook, it contains so many memories that haunt Byleth’s dreams. She can still perfectly picture the scene, the way Jeralt would be hunched over the little table in the rooms they would rent, scribbling away in his journal. She remembers the way he would hold his quill, the way he would use his pinky to guide the ink rather than his index. She remembers all the times he had caught her sneaking out of bed, hoping to get a few more minutes to look out the window and up at the stars, counting them until she’d fall asleep on the windowsill. She even remembers the strength of his hands as he would scoop her up, whispering his adoration for his child before gently placing her back into her bed. Now, those memories are all Byleth has left of her family. It’s all she has left of her own innocence.

A ring. It glistens as it rolls across the desk. A ring. The silver against the dark wood of the desk. A ring. Jeralt’s ring. A ring he had gifted Byleth’s mother. A ring he had gifted her. A ring she’s supposed to gift back to the person she loves.

It’s only ever happened once, the world suddenly going blurry. Byleth can feel the dampness of her cheeks, but she doesn’t dare touch her face. The confirmation of such a reaction is too much for her to bear. Jeralt had been the only person for whom she had ever shed a tear. He is once again the reason she feels the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Teach?”

Byleth turns as Claude slowly rises from her bed. He must have made himself comfortable there, waiting for her to finish packing what she deemed important for their adventure into the unknown. But now, his usual mischievous grin doesn’t shine across his face. Worry stains every trait of his, from the look in his eyes to the way his hand extends towards her. And under the touch of his fingers to her arm, Byleth crashes. She crashes against his chest as arms wrap around her shoulders, holding her upright. Tears: The Ashen Demon’s greatest weakness.

Byleth can’t think of a single time she’s ever sobbed like this, clinging onto Claude’s cravat. She can’t remember the last time she’s ever felt so many things at once; perhaps she never has. Legends say that goddesses don’t feel human emotions, that they’re heartless creatures that gaze from above. The world of mortals is their painting, filled with splatters of cries and rage and tenderness, everything a goddess wishes she could feel but has done nothing but create in the other. Goddesses are numb until they become human with a beating heart. They are devoid of all until they’re overflowing with feelings, feelings they’ve never experienced before.

Byleth feels it all: fear, desperation, grief. All those feelings she had watched pain the faces of others, she suddenly feels them surge within her core. She feels the emotions crashing against her chest, beating against her ribs, trying desperately to break through. She feels everything. Everything feels lost. Everything but Claude, Claude who holds her tightly, his nose buried in her hair as he hushes her.

The moment is quiet, peaceful even, if it weren’t for the looming threat outside the chamber door. It could have been so good had it not been for the war raging on outside the window.

“I’m scared.”

It’s barely a whisper, muffled by the many folds and layers of Claude’s attire. The words barely leave Byleth’s lips, but Claude hears them. He hears her silent cry. He hears her; he always does. He hears her and holds her tighter, the only comfort he knows. It’s not the first time Byleth has found solace against Claude’s chest.

“It’ll be okay, Teach. We’ll make it okay.”

There’s no promise, but Byleth believes him. How could he promise everything will turn out the way they dream of? Such a promise is setting oneself up for failure. So he doesn’t promise, but he does promise that he will try. He doesn’t say it, but the kiss at the top of Byleth’s head is enough of a promise for her to believe in their strength. It’s enough to keep her there, pressed against him, searching for a fleeting moment to add to her collection of memories. It’s enough for her to trust his every word, trust his affection, trust that they are strong enough as long as they’re together. He isn’t a liar, or so Byleth hopes.

Claude’s touch lingers, the weight of his nose against Byleth’s hair. His breathing is steady, as are his hands. This, this could have been their every day had it not been for the wretched war. He could have been more than just a general of an army. He could have been more than just one of her most trusted allies. He could have been more than just her Little Fawn, a boy turned a man before her eyes. Her Little Fawn…

Please, Sothis, let this not be the last time.

“Claude?”

Green meets green for the first time in what feels like forever. Green is drawn to green as naturally as deer are drawn to meadows; it’s instinctive. Green finds green, a treasure one searches for their whole life. Green finds green, just as it should.

“What is it, Te—?”

“Don’t.”

Byleth turns away from Claude, making her way back to her desk. This isn’t the time to be sentimental, but she can’t help it. She can’t help the pang in her chest, but this time it’s different. It’s not the feeling of loss that fills her with dread; it’s something completely different. It’s the way he says Teach, a nickname that started a lifetime ago. It’s a name she normally likes, but right now, she can’t bear hearing it. It’s not the name she wants. It’s not the name she wants to hear.

She knows his eyes are still on her, probably trying to figure out her next move. She knows that his green eyes are following her every move, following the curve of her arm as she pushes the papers aside. She knows he’s watching as she curls her fingers around her prize. She knows he’s watching, but when she turns back to him, puzzlement coats the green of his eyes. He hasn’t figured her out, not yet. And yet, he still complies as she outstretches her empty hand towards him. He complies just as she had back in the conference room, placing his hand in hers. They’re alone in this; they only have each other to trust.

Claude doesn’t say a word as Byleth curls his fingers over themselves. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes have always been the window to his soul. He stares at his closed hand, at the smaller hands enveloping his. And when she pulls her hands back, confusion pulls at every one of Claude’s beautiful traits. Confusion, then something new. Something she’s never seen on him. Confusion followed by the unknown as he opens his hand.

“For when the war is over.”

Emotions play all over Claude’s face: surprise, confusion, and a cast of expressions Byleth is unfamiliar with. Emotions pull at every one of his features, leaving a trail of beauty for Byleth to memorize. This, this is how she wants their future to be. She wants to see every expression cross Claude’s face, and she wants to know them all. She wants to know the names of every little thing he’s feeling. She wants to know everything that makes him, him. She wants that window to his soul to be as clear as day to her, not foggy with lies and schemes.

“Byleth…”

There’s a softness in Claude’s green eyes, a softness Byleth’s never seen before. There’s a softness in his voice, a softness that Byleth’s never heard before. There’s a softness in the moment that envelops them, a softness Byleth wants to cling to. And when Claude takes her hand in his, a pang echoes in her chest once more.

“Byleth, I can’t possibly accept this. Not now.”

“Claude, I—”

“But please,” his eyes find hers once more, eyes filled with beauty and adoration, “please allow me to hold on to it until the end of this war. Allow me to hold on to it until I can ask for your hand in marriage during a time for peace. Allow me to love you in silence until our futures are ensured, one where we can lead a world of tranquillity. Let me love you in silence until I can proudly say that I’m the reigning king of Almyra, when I’ll have proven myself worthy of being remembered as a man of myths. Let me love you then, when all our fears will not coat our proposals. So Byleth, my friend, my love, let me love you in silence until then.”

Silence. Silence had always been one of Byleth’s sharpest skills. Silence, until now, had it not been one of her greatest flaws as well? Had Claude not tried to coax more words out of her over the years, always searching for more information about her? Silence, it had always been one of the Ashen Demon’s deadliest skills, be it for better or for worse. Silence; Byleth could deal with that for now.

Please, Sothis, let this war soon come to an end.

Warmth spreads through Byleth as she lifts herself up just enough to lay a kiss on Claude’s lips. Warmth spreads through her, right through where she must have had a heart. Warmth spreads through her as he returns the kiss, pulling her closer. Warmth spreads through her, leaving a trail of sparks under her skin, under every fleeting touch of Claude’s.

Silence. This would be their silent love. Stolen kisses in the dark as they remain on the run, escaping from Imperial Soldiers. Stolen glances as they fight for a brighter tomorrow. Their love would be silent, but still, the yearning stays. The yearning for peace and for each other. The yearning for sunny days. They yearned for the day when war won’t rage on outside their windows, and they know that day will come. Together, they will end this thing. A new dawn is coming for Fódlan.

“Let’s end this war then, Little Hart.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Teach.”

#Not me writing a pick your own adventure type of fic depending on who you wanna marry like in the game #Because yes I did. I really did #so here's the claudeleth one <3 #claude von riegan #khalid von riegan #claude #byleth eisner #f!byleth #f!byleth eisner #byleth #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #claudeleth #lils writes #fe16

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jane-gunson123 · 1 year

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Dead Boys.

When a geordie boxer looses her brother to suicied a week before the biggest fight of her career and walks out to her boyfriends song, Dead Boys.

Main masterlist

Sam Fender masterlist

Growing up with brothers meant Lacey was always fighting. Whether it was with her brothers, Jordan and kyle or other people, it was all she seamed to do. Her oldest brother, Jordan had a different mam to her and Kyle, and grew up in Sunderland meaning they only saw him a few days a week but that didn’t matter they were still siblings.

When Lacey was 15 Jordan had signed a contract at liverpool and his football career started to take off and Kyle was 17, a year away from leaving for uni to become whatever his heart desired, he was intelligent enough to do anything, really.

Lacey was never very academically gifted, she much preferred to be out on the streets doing what ever she pleased. She hated how much control authority figures had over her. The only reason she kept going was to one, make her brothers proud and two, see her best friends everyday, Sam, Dean and Abi. The four of them had ran North Shields ragged in their youth, terrorising the neighbors and business owners all there teens.

On the 18th August 2012, Lacey had gotten her GCSE results back, they were shocking, 4 D’s and 1 C in PE the only thing she was good at, she had laughed it off at first, until she realised she couldn’t even apply for a proper collage course without resitting them. She hated exam's and refused to even attempt her GCSE’s again.

After wondering aimlessly around North Shields for the better part of 2 hours, she decided to let of some steam and wondered into a boxing gym she had passed many a times. That was probably the best decision he had ever made to this day, for that was the day her life changed forever.

That was about 11 years ago now and Lacey Henderson was very quickly becoming a household name in women's boxing. She was a mear 2 weeks away from the biggest fight of her career against Katie Taylor for the WBA,IFB and WBC belts while also putting her own belt she had defender 3 times already the WBO belt.

Her life had changed dramatically in the past 11 years, she had gone from living a life of poverty to upper middle class but yet she still refused to live anywhere apart from North Shields.

She was still extremely close to both her brother, she had watched Jordan’s devastating defeat in the Euros final a mere few months ago and Kyle had just welcomed a little girl, Bella into the world with his girlfriend, Rosie 10 months ago. They had met at a bar in the quayside, Rosie being a English teacher at her old high school and Kyle being a fireman ment they often only saw each other for a couple hours day but the love they shared was unbeatable.

Lacey still remained close to her best friends, so close in fact she was in bed with one of them. Her and sam had always loved each other more than friends but had only actually gotten together about 6 months before lockdown and what was even more surprising was catching Abi and Dean the other half of there group in Abi’s bed after a practically, heavy drinking session the day before after lockdown rules had been lifted.

6 days till fight night, she had her friend, boyfriend and team around her. Jordan and Kyle were only expected to show up a day before her fight but both rang her everyday to show their support. Lacey and Kyle had lost their mam to an overdose 3 weeks before Lacey’s 18th birthday and then the three hd lost their father to cancer 5 years ago, so they only really had each other as family now, even if they did have about a 100 cousins up and down the country thanks to their dads Gypies roots.

After finishing a sparring session, Lacey had picked up her phone to see 7 missed calls from Rosie, Kyle's girlfriend, 5 off Jordan and 3 off Sam, who was only back at the house they owned in London, which happened to be next to the Gym she attended their and Wembley arena where the fight was due to happen in 6 days time.

Lacey had decided to stay behind while everyone else had left and continue to work on her form with the punching bag.

Pulling the tape of her hands once she had finished her training for the day, Laceys phone began to ring, “Hello.” Lacey answered.

“Lace.” Rosie answered back in hysterics.

“Woah, what’s the matter, Rose? Is everyone okay?” lacey asked, anxious. She never really showed emotion but she had never heard Rosie sound so distressed.

“He’s gone, lace.” She sobbed.

“Who’s gone? What u on about?” Lacey questioned again.

“Kyle,” Rosie sobbed, “He's dead.”

The room began to spin and lights began to blur, it was like Lacey had no control over her body as she fell to her knee and her phone slipped out of her hands.

She didn’t know how long she had been on her knees, staring at the wall in frount of her but what she did know was no tears fell. It was like she went blank and just simply couldn’t process the information she had been told.

Pulled out of her thoughts by her phone ringing once again, it was Sam but she didn’t answer. Just simply declined the call, stood up and walked toward the locker room in the gym.

After showering and changing into a tracksuit she had stolen of Sam a few weeks ago, Lacey simply packed her bag and began her walk home to hers and Sam’s house.

Nobody had heard from her in over an hour since she had found out about her brother and they were beginning to panic she would do something silly, you never know how dark someone’s mind can go after hearing news like that.

Unlocking the front door, she was engulfed into Sam’s arms, he had been waiting for her to arrive him since he had heard about Kyle.

“It’s alright love, I promise I’m always here, whenever you need me, okay?” Sam reassured her.

“I’m okay Sam, honest” Lacey replied, but Sam had know the girl since she was 5 and could tell when she tried to hide what she was feeling, her big blue eyes usually gave it away.

“You might think u are but your not. It’s okay to cry darlin’, just let it all out.” Sam rubbed her back pulling her onto his knee on the floor.

“I just can’t believe he’s gone.” She spoke meekly, tears pooling in her eyes.

Soon the water works started and they didn’t stop, not until late into the night anyways.

That was 5 days ago and nobody apart from close family and friends knew what had happened to her brother. She didn’t want it to get out before her fight and everybody was completely understanding.

Jordan had arrived about 2 hours ago with his wife to watch her weigh ins. He was worried about Lacey. Worried that she break in the ring, that it would all be to overwhelming for.

Lacey stepped on the scaled making her weight by 5 pounds, it was weird for her not wearing anything about from an underwear set, and yet she had never felt more confident and Sam thought she looked stunning witch he was sure going to tell her later on when he had he to him self.

Katie Taylor had also made her weight and the two nearly ended up in a fight on the stage. It was entertaining for the fans but also fuelled a fire with in Lacey that couldn’t be put out.

The next 24 hours flew by, she had slept and eaten but could really remember doing anything else. Usually in the locker room before a fight nerves are high and adrenaline is pumping but in all honestly Lacey’s team had never seen her so mellow.

She was sat in the corner getting her hands wrapped with AirPod in calm, listening to music in a world of her own.

It was eventually time for her to walk out, with a sigh Lacey stood up and made her way to the tunnel to walk out. Her team were waiting for her walk out song to start playing, it had been picked weeks ago, shortly after the fight had been announced, so imagine there supprise when instead of Get up 10 by Cardi B Dead Boys by none other than her boyfriend Sam Fender started playing.

Her team knew it was a not so subtle nod to her now passed brother but everyone else was clueless. After a slow walk out, Lacey jumped in the ring and smirked at Katie Taylor as Dead Boys finished playing, Lacey pulled her walk out outfit off with the help of her coach, Peter Roberts.

“You got this kid,” Peter said lightly grabbing her head. Lacey just nodded and smiled. She had this and he knew it.

“Fighting out of the blue corner, all the way from Bray, Northern Ireland, Katie ‘The Bray Bomber’ Taylor, weighting in at 66 kilos, 5ft5 with a reach of 66 inches. 22 wins, 6 by K.O. Undefeated champion, with three belts on the line, WBA, IFB and WBO” the announcer screamed over the speakers.

“The challenger, fighting out of the red corner, all the way from North Shields, Newcastle, England, Lacey “The Siren” Henderson, weight in at 65.95 kilos, 5ft7 with a reach of 70 inches. Undefeated with 13 wins, 7 by K.O with the WBO belt on the line, but looking to take all four titles in her weight class.” The announcement had finished.

With the touch of gloves the fight had began, they were going for 12, 3 minute rounds to decide the champ.

It was neck to neck going into the 7th round but Katie was getting tired, while Lacey was only just starting.

Katie went in to attack but left her chin u guarded, so Lacey used that to her advantage, a swift left hook to Katie’s jaw, followed buy an uppercut and a jab to the stomach sent Katie flying onto the canvas.

After the count of 10 Katie was still unmoved, she had done it she was world champion and had all 4 belts.

Ripping her gloves off with her teeth and chucking them, she ran and jumped up onto the ropes, kissing her fingers, before putting both arms in the air and looking up.

“That’s for you big brother.” She mumbled, it was inaudible to anyone else but she knew her brother was there with her, he was in her heart and always would be.

Her team flooded the ring, hosting her on their shoulders before they cleared off and let her grab the refs had before he raised it announcing she now had all 4 belts.

She was pulled aside to talk to a reporter, tears were streaming down her face.

“So, what was that celebration aimed at?” The reporter asked.

Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulder and moods his head encouraging her to continue.

“I lost me older brother, Kyle, 6 days ago. He was meant to be here tonight, buts he’s not, he took his own life after losing a long hard battle with depression, and I never want anymore of me family to feel like they have no one cos I’ve been there before and it’s a dark and lonely place. Boxing saved is but if I hadn’t stumbled into that gym at 16, I can guarantee I wouldn’t be here today.” The tears streamed steadily down the young Geordie’s face, her accent become almost incomprehensible.

“You were the underdog going into that fight, how does it feel to come out on top?” The report asked, scribbling down her last answer.

“I’ve always been the fucken underdog, nouts changed. I just like proving people wrong.”

“What can we expect to see from you in the next year?”

“I want a family, and while I would love me own kids, it’s not the right time in my career or me partners, so maybe a new member to me family, we want to adopt. And fighting wise, who knows the world I’d ready for my to conquer. I’m 26 and already have won every single belt there is too win, so I divint nar to be honest”

“And finally is there any one you would like to call out?” The reporter asked.

“Anyone who thinks they can take these belts of me, come and give it a try.”

They story of her brother was now public knowledge as 4 days later there was hoards of reports outside Newcastle Crematorium as they laid Kyle to rest. The service was beautiful and Sam and Jordan never left her side once.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I’m so fucken proud of you, after everything your still here and fighting.” Jordan said as he pulled her closer and kissed her forehead .

He shielded Lacey away from the flashing cameras of the newspaper as he guided her out to his car with Sam and Rebecca, Jordan’s wife and Rosie not far behind.

They pulled up outside of the Low Lights in North Shields to give there brother a proper send off and that was just what they did. They drank the day away with stories of the last and their youth all the way up to the last time they had all been together at Lacey and Sam’s house for Christmas, when Sam burnt the turkey and Jordan got that drunk he fell on top of the Christmas tree, knocking over Lacey’s candles, nearly setting the house on fire.

They had laughed, cried and grieved together but this wasn’t the hardest part of kissing there brother that part was still to come but Lacey would be fine, Sam would be by her side thought everything, just like he had been every time Lacey needed him and even when she didn’t he was there and for that she was forever great full for him.

In the months to come Lacey and Sam would become parents, just not in the way they thought, as it turns out Rosie had been 4 months pregnant when Kyle had passed. After finding out she was 6 months gone and was not getting rid of it.

The pregnancy was stressful and hard but Lacey was by her side thought it all, even when she took her last breath after delivering a beautiful little boy into the world.

It had been Sam and Lacey to take her brother and sister in laws children in. They would raise the two kids as there own but never letting them forgot how brave and strong there parents really were.

Rosie was buried next to Kyle and Sam and Lacey would take the kids to visit there parents every few weeks.

Little did they know at the time but the two children would be forever great full for there aunt and uncle.

Growing old together was all Sam and Lacey ever wanted and that was what they did. They had raised two kids, and being grandparents to their kids and many dogs and both had extremely successful careers so when they both passed at the age of 86 together in the home in North Shields, everyone knew they had lived fulfilling lives and had no regrets.

It was a perfect end to a story with a horrible start but everyone deserves a happy ending eventually.

#sam fender imagines #sam fender #sam fender fanfic #sam fender x reader #jordan henderson imagines #dead boys #sucicide #boxing #world champion 2022

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pan-flute-skeleton · 6 months

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Let's be sexy and do Bound and Desire for any and/or all of your OCs :3

You know what? I'll take this opportunity to talk about some of my lesser known/lesser talked about OCs. So I'll do Ace, Mallory, Valeria and Elliot

Bound: Ace, like Kari, was more trapped in a bad situation rather than captured against their will. In their youth, they ran with a not so nice crew that led to delinquent behavior. While they got lucky by knowing how to not be in the wrong place at the wrong time, they craved the sense of belonging and community. But time passes, people grow up and they got themselves out whether the group wanted that or not.

Mallory, when she was an full time dancer, was physically trapped in a situation with a man who wouldn't let her leave. The guy paid for a private dance and refused to let her leave unless she ahem provided more services. He got far in his assault, but never stuck the landing. Her sisters in service broke down the door and knocked his socks off.

Valeria, never. Too straightlaced and alert to ever end up captured. I think she'd complain and pick apart her kidnapper's quarters so much that they'd give her back.

Elliot, he was trapped by his birth country. He never quite fit in while growing up in the states, rural mountain towns that couldn't find their own town on a map. The man was studious and worldly, wanted to see where he could go that he felt useful. On the outside it looked like arrogance and an obsession with perfection, but he knew he wanted something that he couldn't get in the states. Becoming an ambassador was the compromise he could get

Desire: Ace wants to atone for the knucklehead behavior they exhibited in their past. After finding purpose in caretaking, they also want to provide the best care for their clients. They've seen first hand how little some people care about others and if they can make a difference with at least one person's life, they'd be happy. Although, they certainly weren't expecting that person to be the grandmother of a Dethklok member

Mallory wants her son to be happy and successful and out of trouble. She hopes he does something respectable and something society accepts without question. She doesn't want him to go down a similar path that she did. As a business woman, she wants her club to succeed and be a haven for all working mothers in the industry. That's why she donates to charities when she can and opens her doors to those who need help. Mallory tries to show people that her club is more than just a spot for hedonism.

Valeria wants to live up to her father's expectations. Growing up, she internalized the pressure and convinced herself that they were her own expectations. I do feel bad for her because she's the kind of person who doesn't know what they themselves want in life, having been acting on other people's accord for so long. Her one big desire was Annaliese, her now wife. In her quest to become an accepted working queer woman, she found love as a wonderful bonus.

Elliot sought escape and he got it when he became an expat in Sweden. When he became a father, he desired his daughters to live as perfect europeans. Never wanting them to become full americans but also falling back to deep rooted familiar parenting skills. Freya brought alot of Swedish flair, but when it was just him he couldn't quite get the american fully out of his system. If he had his desires met, his daughters would never even know of their mixed nationality

#metalocalypse #mtl oc #original character

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isfjmel-phleg · 9 months

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For someone who is outgoing and socially skilled, Psmith has surprisingly few substantial relationships. He's not close to most of his family--we hardly know anything about any of them except his father. He doesn't seem to have any old friends from before he met Mike. He makes very few real friends over the course of the series, and the only one of them to whom he has a strong attachment is Mike. He generally doesn't seek romantic relationships either. Eve is the first and only one whom he falls in love with.

Very few attachments, but when they happen, they are intense. Once Psmith bonds with Mike, he's willing to go to great lengths to keep his "confidential secretary and adviser" close to him all the time. He resorts to out-of-character behavior and elaborate machinations to keep Mike out of trouble at school. He invites Mike to move into his London apartment while they're working at the bank and convinces his father to pay Mike's way through Cambridge and later set him up in a job on the Smith family estate so they can continue to stay close. When Mike's cricket team takes a tour of the US, Psmith comes along. He's willing to commit theft as part of a scheme to raise money for Mike and his wife Phyllis. Likewise, with Eve, it only takes one encounter for Psmith to decide that she's the one for him, and he impersonates a poet to get the opportunity to be around her. He's intent on getting to know her, and about a week into their acquaintance, he proposes.

Yet at the same time, he seems reluctant to open up too much to the people he loves most. A lot of his past is a mystery. He tends to conceal his feelings and vulnerabilities behind his flippant and unflappable persona, even with Mike. He doesn't like to offer explanations. He fails to let Mike in on one of his schemes to get him out of trouble and thus accidentally creates more problems.

So I'd say that Psmith has attachment issues. He's got the avoidant attachment style's tendency to hold everyone, even loved ones, at arm's length and refuse to open up. But he also has the anxious attachment style's clinginess, dependency, and fear of being alone. Psmith might have a disorganized attachment style, which has features of both the other insecure styles. Although this is often associated with an abusive or high-trauma upbringing (there's no evidence of that in what we know of Psmith's past), it comes from having caregivers who exhibit inconsistent, unpredictable behavior. A child who grows up in these conditions never knows what to expect and thus never really feels safe. They simultaneously crave love but are afraid of getting hurt. This then translates to how they approach relationships as an adult.

We know nothing about Psmith's mother. She's mentioned only once, in a hypothetical remark. Her absence suggests that she's probably dead. If so, we don't know when this happened or how old Psmith was at the time. But we do meet Psmith's father, whose most prominent characteristic is his changeability. This is played for laughs in how often he picks up passionate hobbies and obsessions only to toss them aside at a whim. But it's likely that this is how he approaches everything in life, including child-raising. And if that's the environment that Psmith has grown up in, it explains a lot. His father was unpredictable. It was probably very difficult to get and hold his attention. But at other times, such as when Mr. Smith is obsessed with finding just the right career to set up his son in, he's more attentive to the point of being overwhelming. Being ignored is bad enough, but if this is interspersed with unpredictable instances of attention and affection, it keeps one hoping futilely for a chance and therefore wavering between opening up and holding back.

Psmith's desire for people to be close to shows that he knows it can happen. But he has also (presumably) experienced enough dismissal to have developed a fear of intimacy and thus keep himself closed off even while clinging to the people he loves. And this does create problems--the Wodehouse-novel type of problems, of course, but still issues that negatively affect his relationships. He's sometimes thoughtless toward Mike. He's initially not honest with Eve.

It all works out. He does take steps toward getting better. By the end of the series, he chooses to be honest and communicative and vulnerable with Eve, which allows them to address their problems and move forward. But for most of the series, his approach toward relationships, fervent though it may be, speaks more to his usually-concealed personal struggles than it does his ability to charm and connect.

#Psmith Pseptember

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mysticalstuff · 7 months

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An unprecedented event-

•If this short story is a trigger for you, please do not interact, warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy-relationship•

Y/N was a young girl who found herself trapped in a nightmare she never could have imagined. Kidnapped by a man who was seriously obsessed with her, she was held captive in a hidden room in his basement. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he became convinced that they were destined to be together.

Every day, Y/N could feel his intense gaze upon her, his obsession growing stronger with each passing moment. He would meticulously plan every detail of her captivity, ensuring that she was completely isolated from the outside world. The room he kept her in was adorned with stolen pictures and personal belongings, a shrine to his twisted infatuation.

Y/N’s days were filled with fear and uncertainty, but she refused to let her spirit be broken. She found solace in the company of another captive, a young boy named Alex, who shared her desire for freedom. Together, they formed an unbreakable bond, supporting and encouraging each other through the darkest of times.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N and Alex devised a plan to escape their captor’s clutches. They studied his patterns, searching for any weakness they could exploit. Y/N’s determination to survive and regain her freedom fueled her every move.

The psychological toll of her captor’s obsession weighed heavily on Y/N. She wondered how someone could become so consumed by their desires, so blinded by their own twisted version of love. But she refused to let his obsession define her. She held onto her own sense of self, her own dreams and aspirations, knowing that one day she would break free. Finally, the day of their escape arrived. Y/N and Alex executed their plan with precision, taking advantage of a momentary lapse in their captor’s vigilance. They managed to slip out of the hidden room and make their way through the dark and unfamiliar corridors of the house.

Every creak of the floorboards, every beat of their racing hearts, threatened to give them away. But their determination pushed them forward, propelling them towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

As they reached the front door, their hands trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation, Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. She knew that this was their chance for freedom, their chance to escape the clutches of the man who had held them captive for far too long.

With a surge of adrenaline, Y/N pushed open the door, feeling the cool rush of fresh air against her face. It was a moment of pure liberation, a taste of the freedom she had longed for. She and Alex ran as fast as their legs could carry them, leaving behind the nightmare that had haunted them for so long.

In the aftermath of their escape, Y/N and Alex found solace in each other’s presence. They supported one another as they navigated the difficult journey of healing and recovery. They vowed to never let their past define them, to rise above the trauma they had endured.

As time passed, Y/N found strength in her resilience. She refused to let the scars of her past dictate her future. She became an advocate for survivors of abduction and worked tirelessly to raise awareness about the dangers of obsession and the importance of mental health.

Y/N’s story became a beacon of hope for others who had experienced similar horrors. She showed them that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of light. Y/N’s courage and determination inspired others to find their own strength and reclaim their lives.

Meanwhile, the man who had kidnapped Y/N remained imprisoned, his obsession with her consuming him from behind bars. He was forced to confront the consequences of his actions, to face the reality that his twisted version of love had caused immeasurable pain and suffering.

Y/N, however, refused to let her captor’s obsession define her. She focused on her own healing, surrounding herself with a support system of loved ones and professionals who helped her rebuild her life. She channeled her experiences into advocacy work, using her voice to raise awareness and fight for justice for survivors like herself.

Over time, Y/N found solace in her newfound freedom and the ability to live life on her own terms. She pursued her dreams, embracing every opportunity that came her way. She refused to let the trauma of her past hold her back, determined to create a future filled with happiness and fulfillment.

Though the scars of her ordeal would always be a part of her, Y/N chose to use them as a reminder of her strength and resilience.

“Sounds like the plot of a movie.” - Hopefully.

#yandere #yandere fanfics

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