#depending on the answer i would have another space filled since it was love at first sight the moment i saw ichiro lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladelinee · 5 months

Text

Authors note: Here it is! My first fanfic! It took me a long time I know, I blocked myself a bit at the end 😅. But it’s done. enjoy cuties!❤️ (and sorry if there are any grammar mistakes)

Word count: 3,5K

Warnings: intrusive thoughts, teasing, cussing, smoking.

All shook up

As I walked through the lobby, the click-clack of my heeled shoes broke the silence, almost like a constant drumbeat. It was just another day, another challenge.

I was staring into a blank space as if I were out of myself. Since its opening two years ago, the International has become one of the busiest hotels in Las Vegas. The reason? Elvis Presley.

His name was on everyone's lips, from my boss to the guests trying to find out more about him, it's a shame that I haven’t met him yet. And now, there I was: A young lady Guest Relations Manager having recently transferred two months ago into this male-dominated company. I often feel that the staff looked down upon me, seeing me as the mere "young and cute bossy girl." I felt that they were not taking me seriously and disregarded my suggestions. That was why I had to hide who I really am and present myself as a serious and professional person, to be respected.

At the entrance to the casino, I spotted Alex, one of my few friends here. He's the typical guy saving money for university, not taking the job too seriously but very friendly with me. A charming guy, though, nonetheless. His hidden talent is his ability to perfectly imitate Elvis, which he loves to show off whenever he can. Alex walked over to me with a big smile on his face.

"Heyy there she is, ya heard the King's comin' tonight? He's bringin' his mafia along. Ya know, with all this media buzz around him and the big show tomorrow night, he's gonna need special attention. The boss wants us to hold off the media too, so let's make sure his stay at the hotel is smooth. Hope we can make 'em feel welcome and without any troubles, ya hear baby?" He said mimicking Elvis’s southern accent to make it more interesting.

Suddenly, my heart skipped a beat. Elvis is coming. My hands began shaking and my mind was suddenly filled with a flurry of thoughts and insecurities. I've been a huge fan of him for years and was excited to see him in person, but this was different. I was here for work and was supposed to treat him the same way I would any other guest. But that thought only made my heart race even faster. It was going to be a tough night indeed.

“Are you serious?? Alright, we better start organising everything!” I said, stepping away from Alex. It was time to get started with the preparations. I had to handle everything; managing the media, securing the privacy of the other guests in the hotel, and, of course, ensuring Elvis Presley received a warm welcome at the International.

After a few hours passed, everything was in order. I started putting on my best uniform with a black blazer and skirt. I spent extra time doing my makeup, redressing my lips several times as I was feeling shaky.

My office phone rang, shaking me out of my reverie: "International Hotel, y/n speaking, what can I help?" I answered gently.

My boss cut through the pleasantries and interrupted my peace with a breathless "Elvis is in the building." Taken aback, I paused momentarily, then jumped to my feet and rushed to catch the elevator.

I found myself on the 30th floor, and all the elevators were moving very slowly, making frequent stops on each floor. In an anxious hurry, I furiously pressed the button with the feeling that my life depended on it, hoping to rush down and introduce myself to Elvis Presley. My limbs trembled, my heart was about to break free of my chest, and my breathing was quick and shallow. It was a sea of scenarios going through my mind, and I was pondering the best way to address Elvis politely.

Alex met me on my way down the elevator. Before I could say any word he said: "Hey! Where have you been? You missed Elvis Presley; he's so kind! He was very tired so he went straight to the penthouse. The Colonel asked not to disturb him, though" as the elevator began to descend again.

A wave of emotions washed over me and my stomach dropped when I realized I had missed my opportunity to meet him. I took a deep breath and tried to remain professional as the elevator doors opened and I faced my next challenge: keeping my cool, doing my job and dealing with my angry boss whose wrath I was surely to face after arriving late.

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

Sitting in my office during the night shift was torture. Boredom plagued me and the regret of not having met Elvis was too much to bear. I swore under my breath, angry at myself. The hours of the night seemed unendurable. What if I go up to the penthouse? It will get things worse… I knew this was my role and I would have to suck it up by behaving myself.

My frustration with the situation was growing and I kicked a nearby table, the sound echoing through the office. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and called myself silly for missing out on such an opportunity. Abruptly, the floor began to shake violently. I waited for a second to see if I had caused it with my kick on the table, but no, it was an earthquake! As the shaking increased, I scrambled around the hotel, searching for a safe place to wait out the disaster.

In a rush to evacuate, I made my way down the emergency stairs. Since I was relatively new to the hotel, I quickly got lost, the immense size of the building was contributing to my feeling of disorientation.

After several minutes of wandering in the dark, I spotted a dim light coming from a nearby door, the glow invited me to investigate further. Filled with curiosity, and desperate to make sense of my surroundings, I opened the door to take a closer look.

I cautiously entered the room, relieved to find the earthquake had ended, but my sense of relief quickly faded when a deep and gruff voice spoke out from the darkness.

"Hey, darlin'" The voice caught me off-guard and sent a shiver of unease down my spine.

“My, my, you're a jumpy one, aren't ya?” the deep voice replied from the darkness.

I shot back, “Well, excuse me, I wasn't expecting some kind of mysterious man in the darkness.”

I thought it might be Alex attempting to pull a silly joke on me and I was starting to feel a little annoyed. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" I inquired in a slightly irritated tone, assuming it was just a prank, considering that it was a difficult area to reach. “Seriously, Alex? Let’s go back to work and make sure everyone is safe. I didn’t have a good day and this is the last thing I need”

The figure got closer to me, gently pushed away my hair and whispered into my ear: "Sure thing, boss". I could feel his warm breath in my neck and sense the amusement in his voice, as if it were a game.

After a moment, the figure took a step back and lit a cigar, held between two ringed fingers and turned over to switch on a little lamp. When the smoke cleared, I saw the face of Elvis, with his captivating blue eyes, dark hair, perfect nose and lips. I was mesmerized by his smile, his voice was still ringing in my ears and the smoke from his cigar filled the air.

To my surprise, I discovered Elvis dressed in a black and red robe, accompanied by golden slippers. I could perceive a white item beneath the robe, but it was difficult to make out any more due to its loose cut. Furthermore, his bare, hirsute chest was appealing, and it was all that I could focus on.

My body was flooded with adrenaline, as if about to burst. I felt intimidated by Elvis's physical presence but also filled with excitement and an intense attraction. I was frozen, unable to process what was happening, my blood boiling with a cocktail of emotions.

Elvis noticed my reaction.

"Ahh, so you do know who I am?" Elvis purred, the deep voice sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

With a sly grin, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Sweetheart, I have to admit, I'm really enjoying this game. You're making this really fun to play."

He took a step back and blew out a big puff of cigar smoke, smiling broadly, savouring the moment and taking enjoyment in my reaction.

Even if I wanted to scream and go to his arms, I had to remain calm and professional. Actually, not reacting would be a nice strategy as he will see that his play game is not working.

“Mr. Presley, nice to meet you… unfortunately under these circumstances. I am glad you are enjoying the premises of this hotel. I would never have guessed you were in... in… “- damn, I didn't even know where I was.

“In the backstage of the showroom?” He chuckled.

“Hell, I’m more than enjoying the hotel, sugar. I gotta say the International is quite lovely. The room is very good and inviting. The bed is…” He changed his facial expression as if he was aware of something and started staring at my body while walking around me. “Oh boy, so comfortable and tender. I would sleep in there all night”

Is he talking about the hotel? I was getting confused by his words.

“Okay, the lobby was nice, but now, ya'll have to excuse my language, darlin', but the hallways in this hotel” Elvis pauses, his tone turning even friskier, his gaze never left my body, running from top to bottom and back again.

"The hallways are… oh gosh, phenomenal. And then the casino... the casino, dear god, that place is…” He takes a moment to catch his breath, his eyes moving slowly across my body once again.

"It's like a playground for sin, darlin', and I could be playing for hours.” He pauses, smiling slyly as he lets the words sink in and stare at my eyes.

Right, he is definitely not talking about the hotel.

Before I could even consider how to respond to what I had just heard, our feet began to feel a familiar vibration. The earthquake was back and even more intense than the previous one. As I noticed a tower of precariously stacked chairs near the door begin to shake, I realized that they were about to fall towards us. Elvis acted quickly, grabbing me and pulling me to the ground for safety.

All I heard was an abundance of noise, and I could not see any clear semblance of my surroundings. This was primarily due to Elvis's arms and body shielding me for protection, blocking my view. With my eyes tightly closed, I waited until the violent shaking ceased.

"There you go. Now we can finish our little talk, 'ya alright, baby?" Elvis whispered. I cracked my eyes open when the commotion ceased, finding Elvis on top of me. He was supporting himself with his arms each just inches apart from both sides of my face, close to either cheek, leaving me speechless. I had never been so close to him before, I could feel his accelerated breath and smell his cologne - a combination of manly and clean and woody scents mixed with cigar aroma that had a truly captivating effect on me.

I felt something cold against my chin, and when I took a quick peek, I saw a golden necklace dangling from his neck. It gave me a quick peek of his bare chest, I had to struggle to control my blushes.

Reality hit me hard. If my boss found out that Elvis was injured and I didn't do anything to help him, I would be in a whole lot of trouble.

"Mr. Presley!" I exclaimed with a panicked tone. "Are you hurt? I am so sorry; it's me who should've looked after you. Please let me help you," I continued, as the anxiety consumed my body.

Elvis's smile faded from his face, as he focused on something else. This worried me since I didn't know what he was looking at. Was I bleeding or something?

To my surprise, he put his hand on my chest. My heart started to race. "Well, bless my soul! What a fine name you got Miss y/n y/ln" he said, reading my employer badge. His smile returned, leaving me feeling a bit flustered and exposed.

"Mr. Presley, I understand that you wish to learn my name, but I don't believe it is the best time for that" I responded in an attempt to maintain my cool.

“Please Mr. Presley, let me check if you are alright” I requested, trying to free myself from him. “Sorry this place is a bit tight I can’t barely move if you could please stand for a second…”

Elvis chuckled again, his eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Oh darlin’ I ain’t hurt. But I appreciate your care. Don't ya worry, I've been in tighter spots than this" he said, standing up and walking over to the wall.

I couldn’t help but feel anger rising within me; I was convinced that he treated every woman in the same manner. Despite those emotions, I desired his compliments to keep coming; had I become insane?

"I think I need to leave to make sure that everyone is safe," I said, cutting him off. Setting my pride and responsibilities as my top priority.

“Darlin’ don't even try and hide it, ya know you’re blushing like a damn beetroot” He gave me a naughty smirk.

I looked at him, and I walked towards the door, intending to leave the room. I felt like he was objectifying me, and I was not going to allow such a thing. “Good night, Mr Presley” I replied politely.

“Hey hold your horses lil’ lady! And please call me Elvis”. He continued, his tone more relaxed and friendly after seeing my reaction.

With a sense of courage, I grabbed the door handle, ready to exit the room and leave Elvis behind. I wondered what would happen next. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be strong enough to deal with my boss and meet Elvis’s requests. Maybe the best choice would be to resign. Yet, I was still waiting for him to beg me: "Please don't go, please don't go." He had me completely hooked already. And then…

The door was locked.

“C’mere sweetheart, m’sorry… I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.“ he said as he was walking close to me. “it was just a little tease, I didn't mean any disrespect, honey. You're a truly amazing woman." Elvis continued, curling one lip cheekily, making me smile a little.

“Apologies accepted. But I’m afraid we have a little problem, Elvis.” His eyes shined when I called him by his name.

“The door is locked. I am sorry, I could not even bring a walkie with me in case of emergency”

“Ah sweetheart, ya ain’t have to be sorry. I like stayin' here with ya, but I’m impressed how good ya are and how much ya care about others, we gotta lot in common. We both put our hearts into what we do, no matter what, ya know what I mean? So I’ll understand if ya wanna leave”

His words shocked me a bit. I made the wrong judgment about him. Despite the enormous fame that comes with being Elvis Presley and being surrounded by people constantly, he remained very kind towards me. Even so, with the earthquake, he was still gentle and protected me. This man surely belongs to another world.

“Darlin’, ya want me to open the door for ya?” He asked, leaving me concerned.

“Oh no, please don’t push or bang I don’t want you to get hurt” I insisted.

“Honey. I’ll show ya how a real man handles a door. Step on the side” He said with confidence.

His words made me confused, I didn't know what to expect next. Elvis opened up his robe, reaching deep inside his chest where the white strip was. To my surprise, the white strip was a shoulder holster. he took out the gun and fired at the door as it was made of paper.

The noise was deafening, and made me scream in shock and take refuge in his arms. I thought the bullet might ricochet and come right back at us.

“Y'know, sugar, maybe that ain't your first scream, but I promise ya ain't gonna be the last one" Elvis joked while looking at me in a teasing way with his right eyebrow raised.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked with an irritated tone. "You just fired a fucking gun right next to my ear!" He didn't seem to take me seriously, instead smiling slyly and wrapping his arms around me.

"Don't get angry, darlin'," he said, his breath making me shiver. His chest was still exposed, and I had to fight not to look.

"You're right, I shouldn't have scared you like this" he continued, his tone soothing. "But at least I did open the door, right?"

"You're right" I whispered back, my voice trembling. "At least you did open the door." I looked up at him, his gaze locked with mine, my breathing getting heavier.

"I think you're enjoying this little surprise,darlin’” was all Elvis said with a charming grin, caressing my back with his fingers while the other hand kept me firmly to him.

I tried to struggle out of his grasp, but his big and strong arms were impossible to pry free. And to be honest, I wasn't really trying so hard to escape his embrace, either. In fact, I was starting to feel quite...

"Yes, I think you like it." Elvis breathed deeply, his voice and breath coming across as both intense and sultry as he was feeling my heartbeat.

My irritation and annoyance started to disappear, and I couldn't fight the urge to look at him.

When I realized what I was doing. I pulled away from him to regain awareness of myself. I knew I shouldn't be acting this way, yet I was helpless against the charm that Elvis held.

Elvis chuckled softly as I pulled away and straightened myself. He looked at me with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something more.

Suddenly, we heard a sound, and I assumed that it was the rumblings of the earthquake. However, when the footsteps began to get louder, we realized that it was actually a pair of feet rushing towards us.

Eventually, Joe Esposito opened the door from the other side. There was a distinct look of surprise on his face when he saw us.

"Elvis? Elvis! Are you ok?" Joe asked, his voice tinged with concern. "We were looking for you and heard the gunshots, what's going on?" He inquired, relieved but also worried.

“Hey man, all good don’t ya worry. We just got stuck down here. But thank God miss y/ln was very professional and supportive. My clever girl…” Elvis winked at me and smiled.

"Good evening, Mr. Esposito." I had met Joe previously while working with Elvis and was aware of his efforts in coordinating everything around the hotel in advance for him.

"Thank you for locating us." I said in a grateful tone, "I've made my attempts to keep Elvis safe at all times while we were inside this room, and I'm grateful that you've come to assist us."

Joe remarked with a smile, "Miss Y/ln, thank you so much for your exceptional services. Now I know that Elvis was in safe hands. Let me give you my number to keep in touch, beautiful. You deserve a good tip."

Before Joe could proceed, Elvis stopped him and whispered something quietly to him and Joe stopped. I couldn't make out what was said, but Elvis's expression was serious. After the little whisper, Elvis looked at me with a warm smile.

"Well, Miss," Joe continued, "I better take Elvis to a safe place immediately. The Colonel is going nuts!"

“Absolutely” I replied "If you require any additional assistance, do not hesitate to let me know. Have a lovely evening, gentlemen."

As I flashed my customer-service smile, Elvis returned my expression with a sly, cheeky grin. I couldn't help but return the gesture, amused by his impish expression.

“Nice to meet ya Miss y/ln. Until we get locked again in another dark room sometime.” Elvis mumbled with a smirk as he walked down the corridor.

“Sure thing, boss” I smiled whispering to myself.

Part 2 here!

#elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis the king #elvis history #50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x reader

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milkywaydrabbles · 6 months

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I'm curious now, you don't need write a scenario or anything. Just another brain picking from your favorite bunny.

How different do you think bonten mikey and Manila mikey would treat their s/o? Like they're definetely in different dark headspaces and environments but I don't know how to explain it. I feel Bonten Mikey(I'll refer to as B-Mikey) would 100% be more isolating than Manila Mikey(M-mikey) for the sole reason Bonten Mikey trusts no one in that timeline and got to experience more betrayal within his inner circle.

M-Mikey seems like he had some sort of sanity left, Like a small dot of light in his eyes whereas B-mikeys like is so dim it's reserved for moments where he's alone to actually be felt.

For example

M-Mikey: my mind imagines he would give his S/O a little freedom, but with supervision at all times (but without you knowing. Might make one of the foundees follow you). If he texts, there better be a response or he thinks the worse and the repercussion would be limited freedom.

B-Mikey: limited freedom from the start, can only go to spaces and part of the cities that he owns or completely has control over. Youre supervised and you feel it, Yet others will face more consequences if you're somehow unreachable for a second.

I hope that makes sense. But what about you?! What difference do you think they have in being a boyfriend (or husband).

Another complex character that's truly a wildcard depending on the timeline. I love talking this out with you. After the sanzu breakdown I would love your take.

-🐇

AHH HI BUNNY! Will talk about Mikey all the time I do not care (he ain't even one of my favorites) (I'm a liar) ANYWAYS

I do agree with you for the most part about M and B Mikey, though I'll just elaborate a bit more on how I feel.

To me, M-Mikey feels like he's silently begging for help. You kind of see that tragedy when Takemichi finds him and he's crying, but it feels more...desperate? Maybe is the word I'm looking for? When it comes to a significant other. He's really attached, you being one of the only good things in his life anymore. He's lost (killed) all of his friends, and even if it felt like the only real answer he could possibly turn to, you kind of flipped his world around.

So, M-Mikey latches on to you even if it's subtle. He would let you out, but it's rare, only really letting you go to see your family anymore. He loves you, with everything he has, and sometimes in the solitude of your shared room he'd show that. I think as cold as M-Mikey tends to be, he finds relief whenever you hold his hand, or kiss his temple. You're honestly a bit scared to do more than that sometimes, because you have seen how unstable Mikey can be. But sometimes he just looks at you with sad eyes and a heart breaking smile, and even though he never says it out loud you can hear him asking for some form of sanity. Sometimes he'll just mumbled out 'you're everything to me' before retreating for the night. Sometimes you wish you were able to get more from your husband but when you see how shattered he is it's so hard to ever think about leaving him.

BONTEN MIKEY? I for real don't understand how he has a s/o in the first place I'm not gonna lie. I don't even think there are supervised visits. I think he's cut you off so much your own family thinks your dead. You saw them from the car at your funeral, you stopped even trying to ask Mikey for visitation even if it's only once a year. You have social media, and a phone and a computer, but use is very restricted. As in, he has all your login information, and nothing is actually filled out as yourself. Fake names, no photos up, really just used so you can browse how your friends and family are doing (so long as no one's private, if they are you're shit out of luck.) Don't ask for affection from him, he's not giving you anything. Gifts and money will randomly show up on your bed and in your account, not that it's worth much since you can't go out without a personal body guard to very specific places to shop.

B-Mikey makes time for a once a week private dinner, that's the extent of how I feel he would do things. He comes home every night, late usually, when you're asleep, and if you're not you've stopped trying to greet him. The dinner is quiet, you usually put on a new outfit that you've either purchased yourself or something he's gifted you, and you never leave without your wedding band. The ring feels heavy on your finger, knowing this isn't the man you married years before, but at this point there's no escaping him. He won't let you go, you assume it's because he thinks you know too much about the syndicate. The truth is B-Mikey does have underlying love for you that he doesn't think will ever go away, but he's a cold man to the point of no return.

During the dinners sometimes he'll ask questions I think but like fucking dumb ones, like 'what did you think of the meeting today' like it's a fucking business proposal. He doesn't know how to be normal with you anymore but you're stuck so like that's your life now.

SORRY I TALKED SO MUCH THIS IS SO FUN AAAHH

#milk rambles #milk asks #Mikey Sano #Manjiro sano #tokyo revengers #sano manjiro #sano mikey

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fanficwriter284 · 1 year

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Im bored too. Nothing to do lol

I have an idea. Why dont u write an angst fic? Sorry i just REALLY love angst especially if its for my comfort characters

HEYYYY!!! SORRY IT TOOK ME SOOO DAMN LONG OH GOD!!!!

Nimbus-filled skies had clouded over,with not a joyful expression in sight. No one said a word, only the daunting silence remained, causing a sharping ringing. The thundering skies only now beginning to boom. It had been a while since they fought, everything had been going so smoothly...not even a small slip...not until now. Peace could never remain when referring to the Rays. All broken and twisted individuals, that found comfort and reassurance in one another. Tiffany had found her husband, drenched in crimson, staining him a scarlet hue. He didn't try and hide it, he merely sat and cracked open a cold one and took a sip, allowing the bubbles to simmer in his mouth, completely unphased by his wife's expression and yelling. The redhead could only glance upward, devoid of any emotion.

"Don't be such a fucking hypocrite Tiffany"

His comment had left her silent, he must have known, about the incident a few weeks back, with a convenience store worker that had gone missing. However, this only being mere speculation, Tiffany refused to bring the topic up.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about Charles"

She felt her eyes widen, hearing his grip tighten around the neck of the bottle hearing the faint squeak.

"Don't give me that fucking bullshit."

"No I fucking don't"

"Are you really gonna do this shit?"

"I'm not doing anything"

The redhead set the bottle down, with an exhale, furrowing his brows.

"...Fine then"

Charles stood pushed the bottle aside, grabbed his coat, and headed towards the door. Silent.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Out"

"Where the fuck are you going Chucky"

"Away from you...I'm not playing your fucking game Tiffany"

Tiffany could feel her eye begin to twitch, she hated seeing him leave...not after what happened that night in Chicago, and she lost him for a near decade.

"IT WAS ONE FUCKING SLIP OKAY?! THERE HAPPY!? ROME WASN'T BUILT ON A DAY YOU KNOW"

Her husband remained expressionless, unsatisfied with his wife's answer.

"No, not really...I'm so fucking tired of this fucking shit you do Tiff. You make yourself all high and mighty, pretending you don't fuck up when you do....What pisses me off more is that you hide it from me EVERY FUCKING TIME...And you give me hell for whenever I fuck shit up, when you're just as guilty! So just FUCKING STOP"

"..."

The blonde had fallen silent, she couldn't speak...she could feel her muscles spasming with tension...she hated that deep down she knew he was partially right... however no way in hell would she admit to it.

"...I'm going out to cool off...Don't follow me"

She couldn't stand it when he never defaulted to blind rage and screaming. She could tell that he was genuinely upset at her. So she respected his space and waited. However, he didn't come back that night. So she slept with an empty bedside...so cold and alone. No longer smothered by her husband's hands or warmed by his body heat when the two cuddled throughout the night.

...

The following morning she awoke to him sitting on the couch flipping through TV channels, the kids still sleeping, and the tension between them growing evermore uncomfortable.

"The fuck you want?"

"...Can we talk?"

"Depends, are you gonna talk shit?"

"...no"

"Then sit"

Tiffany lowered her head allowing her blonde locks to conceal her eyes.

"I....I--I'm sorry....Okay? I'm sorry"

"...You gonna pulled this bullshit again?"

"no"

"Alright then..."

#Chucky #tiffany valentine #rayfamily #raysforever #Chiffany #I had like no idea what to write!#Hope ya like it!

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frankenfossil · 8 months

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for the space related asks, ⭐️ & 🛰?

whee!! thank you!

⭐️ Star - Do you have a favourite character? If so, why are they your favourite?

Oh no a very hard question actually... Probably the answer is evidently Emily and Dee since I spend more time thinking and writing about them than any of my other characters. POSSIBLY if I had to choose out of the two of them I'd pick Dee because I am kind of a sucker for a sad sack loser with emotional problems and I deeply enjoy thinking up situations to make him happy and/or traumatised. I also enjoy overthinking his powers and what kinds of things I have to tweak about physics for him to exist with the functions I've given him. (Such as recently I've thought of new objections to the plausibility of time travel but I think I've also thought of a way to resolve them storywise which I personally think is very funny, but if I learn more about physics before it comes up it might change.)

I love Zoe a lot but she is much harder to write and to draw for some reason? I feel like she is clear in my head but never comes out right somehow. It's weird.

I have other characters from other stories that I love too... another favourite who is unrelated to this story is a guardian angel whose first guardee died prior to the story beginning; clearly the angel fucked up a bit with that but gets a second chance, but then is pretty lousy with the second person too!! Trying to push them to fill the shoes of the first person.

Recently I found out that the person who inspired my first 'canon nonbinary' character (I didn't know that was a thing at the time tho) has since come out as for real nonbinary, which obviously makes a lot of sense lol. It was mostly about this one very cool jacket they owned. But that character was a strong fave for a long time... the story was terrible and really problematic lolol but ah well. Probably all the good parts of that character have gone into Dee and Zoe anyway.

I LOVE THEM ALL ;_;

🛰 Satellite - Do you have a character who is very dependent on another character? Is it healthy or unhealthy?

WELL. Again... Emily and Dee are each other's most emotionally intimate relatinship... Dee again is more dependant on Emily than vice versa, and less healthy about it, although I would say it's overall good for them both (but I would say the healthy/unhealthy balance varies over time and may be affected by external factors...).

Zoe is still on the periphery a bit but.............. well there are/will be some dynamics of questionable health there. She doesn't have particularly healthy attachments and is still not exactly over her previous friendship dynamic of being the second best friend of two besties who were shitty to her, and is still kind of stuck in the mode of 'trying to be exactly what the other person wants so they will like me'. Which Emily is not really aware of because she doesn't ever do that. Although the kinds of things Zoe plays up to try to be friends with her probably aren't as bad as what she has done to get OTHER people to like her, and she's relatively confident that Emily isn't going to use any of the stuff she knows against her.

Again, in terms of OTHER characters I have a couple where they are both disabled in various ways but one has more problems with mobility and communication than the other, and also had to be rescued from a kind of slavery by the other, which naturally gives the rescuer some pause for thought about the power dynamic there and whether she's ~taking advantage~ by falling in love with her at the same time (I mean by the time she even gets aware enough of her feelings lolol, gotta sort of pine without realising first!!)... but I'm trying to write that one as pretty healthy tbh, they're just trying to support each other through a difficult world yknow. And anyway the one who used to be a slave deliberately tried to square that debt immediately so it wouldn't be hanging over them both and is now mostly consumed with a quest for revenge lol. But also love.

I am going to.... stop rambling for now lol!!

#ask games #tysm for sending me some!!#sorry for late reply i tried answering on mobile desktop but either tumblr or my phone doesnt work very well #or a team effort to make me unable to type #so had to wait for laptop time #fun fact i looked up codependent because i always thought i knew what it meant but suddenly was like 'what if i've been using it wrong'#and SURE ENOUGH the definitions that came up did uhh... not align with how i thought it was used!!!!#i don't know if people want to hear about my other stories; gappy plotted and unfinished beasts that they are #anything i write outside of a given story text is subject to change #also tbh my 'word of god' doesn't even really count... this is like. my reading of the dynamics and what i'm more or less aiming for but #i'm super interested in how other people read it #they all live in my head full time i don't always have the clearest perspective #like when people were like 'that was a huge dick move for dee to not tell emily that markus liked her'#rly interesting to find out what other people make of their goings on!

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lonenovus · 5 months

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7 Years - [A short story]

Genre tags: realistic fiction; mlm romance Word count: 1,554 Summary: It's been seven years since Bach broke up with Dominic; seven years since Dominic last messaged Bach with an olive branch; seven years since either one had even spoken to one another. In seven years, a lot can change. But, something new can start with a single message. Content warning: None

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Hey. How are you?

The little gray bubble felt mocking in a way. The longer he stared, the more he thought it would disappear. It had to be a misclick, right? It had been years; far too many years. Dominic was half sure Bach had killed himself during the time.

Yet, it never went away.

The number was new; he didn’t recognize it, but then again, Dominic may not have put Bach’s number back into his phone. He had been trying to leave the past after all.

And it would be so easy to just ignore it. Maybe Bach would think he changed numbers, maybe he would give up. There were too many possibilities, starting with the fact that it might not even be Bach in the first place.

Like he said, it’s been years. Almost seven, to be exact.

But there was no one else it could be.

…A risk would have to do.

I’m sorry, who is this?

You don’t have my number saved?

Depends I got a new phone recently, so a lot of contacts got lost. Yours might have been one of them. Ohhh, yeah, that makes sense. It’s Bach

And there it was: the reveal he had been dreading. The question now was, does he go with it? Or does he pretend not to know? Neither were great, but at least if things went sour, Dominic could fall asleep with some dignity intact. But Dominic was the one to open the door, to extend the olive branch, all those years ago. How could he fault someone for taking him up on an offer?

Ah How have you been? Eh, pretty shitty. I got my GED tho, so that’s cool.

Yea, it is, congrats!

He paused, considering his next message.

I’m proud of you

Aw, really?

Of course. I’ve always been proud of you

Heh, thanks But what about you? Whatcha doing right now? Oh, uh, just getting ready for bed, nothing too special Pfffff, man those old man genes must be hitting you hard if you sleeping at 8pm Oh, uhhhh I’m not I’m not in New York anymore.

What?

Yeaa, I actually moved. So I live and work here now?

Wait what???? You moved????? Where?????? I live in London. Cute place, can't really go wrong with it Oh... What’s wrong? I just... didn’t expect you to move Eh, it’s fine. I’m guessing you're still in Colorado so it's a... what? 7 hour difference? That seems so long- Eh, can’t do much about it. Seven years is even longer. Right...

The messages stopped. He could carry on but… was that the right thing to do? Bach left for a reason. He was back for a reason. Money, loneliness, sex.

For some reason, love seemed like the least likely culprit.

If he really loved him, why had it taken seven years? Why did he leave in the first place? He was so quick to block him, so quick to pretend like he didn’t exist. He hadn’t even seemed hurt or heartbroken. But now he was here. Did Dominic even still love him?

…It was hard to tell.

Why’d it take you so long?

Huh?

Don’t play dumb, mate.

It’s been seven years. Seven years, and not a single peep. So you want something from me. Have a hole to fill? Figured I’d take you in a heartbeat? No no Nothing like that I swear

Well it seems a bit suspicious, Bach.

Please, I don’t want to fight. Not not again

Then give me a fucking answer. Give me an actual fucking answer other than “I’m giving you space to heal from me” Because out of everything you could have done, Bach, that was the last fucking thing I needed

Bach was silent for a moment.

I see you haven’t changed. You still lash out, you still don’t know how to fucking communicate

Don’t *you* fucking dare come to me about not changing. I bet you still get high every night. I bet you still run every time someone tries to bring up issues and you refuse to fucking have a conversation. I have changed plenty, Bach. But you cannot come back suddenly, after *seven* years and expect me to treat you the same. You broke my trust. You broke my heart. You left and shattered every part of me without giving a single shit. I have a fucking right to be angry. To be hurt. I wasn’t great to you either, I know; I lashed out and started arguments, and ended up hurting you when I didn’t mean to, but I was trying so hard, Bach. You didn’t even put forth the effort for the one thing I requested. You refused to talk to me, to tell me what I could do for you. When I needed your help, your support, your reassurance- you disappeared. You ghosted me and ignored me. I was your partner, hell, I was your *fiance*. I was the one person who was supposed to matter more than anything to you. And you couldn’t give less of a shit about me. I figured out my issues, Bach. And I got better, for the most part. But it would have been so much easier if you were still there by my side, so maybe I could have explained what I found out to you, so maybe you could understand and we could have strengthen our relationship It’s been seven years I have every right to be hurt, to be angry So don’t you *dare* berate me for lashing out this time.

The chat was silent once more. Maybe he decided to leave again. Or block him again. Regardless, if this was how Bach decided best to crawl back, Dominic wasn’t having it.

After a few beats, he moved towards Bach's contact, about to hit the block button, until:

You’re right. I’m sorry.

He waited. For what exactly, he wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe for him to elaborate? A paragraph about how much he meant to him, that he regretted everything he had done in the past? Maybe begging for Dominic’s forgiveness, promising everything and anything to give him one more shot.

But…

Seven years was a long time to go back to what they once were. They had both changed. Hell, Dominic had even moved to a whole other country. He had a new life, a stable job, and a little cottage in the countryside.

If long distance had been rough before, when they were merely across the country from one another; this would be impossible.

It couldn’t work. They could try, but it would fail again.

Dominic didn’t want to tear open those old scars again… Except he did.

He wanted Bach back, that had never changed. There was still a dull ache when the thought of him crossed his mind. But maybe it wouldn’t work. Maybe each of them had changed too much for it to work.

Dominic watched the chat, wondering if he would receive something more.

And?

And what?

Is that it? Mate, you messaged for a reason.

Right, right

The chat was silent once again. Dominic could feel his agitation spiking. He was tired, he was upset, he was feeling so many things that he did not want to be feeling right now. If Bach wasn’t going to spit it out, and they were just going to keep running in circles, he wanted no part in it.

Bach, no offense, but I did mean it when I was getting ready for bed. We’ve been at this for an hour, and it’s almost 2am. I had work today, and I have work tomorrow, so I really need to sleep. So if you’re not gonna spit it out, I’m gonna be conking out, okay?

Right... sorry Uh I’ll let you get some sleep Night, Dominic

He stared at the screen. Part of his brain was screaming, enraged: ‘Liar, traitor, liar, coward, liar, traitor, coward, liar.’ Even after all of that back and forth, he couldn’t just say it. But the other part, the one that was still obsessed, still hopeful, left its two-cents: ‘If he didn’t care, he would have blocked you the moment you lashed out. Hear him out, see what he wants. You know how difficult he can be.’

Good night, Bach Just Whatever the fuck you want, tell me in the morning If you haven’t blocked me again, that is We’ll have a proper conversation when I am not tired as fuck and having difficulty with preventing emotional outbursts. Skills don’t work well when I’m too tired to focus

Of course Sleep well

Dominic turned off his phone and placed it on the charger, settling down to pull the blankets up to his chin. It would be a long conversation, reserved for a moment where they both had time to talk. A long and honest and open conversation.

Well, as long as Bach didn’t get cold feet and decide to backtrack.

True, he didn’t really know what Bach wanted, but he clung to the hope that this was a second chance. Maybe they could do it right this time. Maybe they would get that happily ever after. And with those thoughts, he drifted to sleep, never hearing his phone buzz with one last notification.

I love you.

[End]

#writing #story #fiction #short story #mlm #romance #text messages #realistic fiction #break up #getting back together #rekindling love

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averagereviews · 8 months

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Starfield and the problem in general

Intro

Hello fellow gamers out there in the galaxy. This will be my first ever review I done in the first blog I ever created so dont expect much there, but there is just so much fustration piled up in me about the gaming industry, that I have to write it out of me.

Disclaimer

First thing first, there are far worse games out there than Starfield, but this game was the trigger point that made me do a blog, so I will make a honest review from the game. I will only focus the problems here, as official platforms are not highlight them out enough, and since I did not played the game I cant say much about the story either. My review is based on what I seen from Youtube and other streaming platforms so if you want to hear an in depth version, you might look somewhere else.

But hey, you did not play the game, how can you do a review about it, you might ask the fair question. Well my answer to that, you dont taste poop either to know its gonna be bad. I will belive to my fellow gamers that this game has some potential and has good moments, but generally it is another product that was not created with a soul, with the desire to be good.

Technical issues

First of all lets state the obvious, this game was in development for 5-7 years. In 5-7 years they came out with a core game that can be done in about 30 hours, if you focus on the main story quests only. They used the same engine as they are using since eternity and was out of date already at the time of Fallout 4, so it shows its mark on bugs, glitches and on performance as well. While the game runs on a steady 30fps on consols, the PC version suffers a lot. With an upper mid range setup like an I5-10400F+RX6700XT and 32GB ram + an SSD the game barely runs at 40 fps on ultra at 1080p during city walk and gunfights. This is just ridiculus to say the least, while better looking games like CP77 and BG3 or RDR2 runs way above 60 fps all the time. You might think that it may be my system that is weirdly not compatible with the game, but even better rigs suffer from this.

What is more funny in a bad way, that Todd Howard said in an interview, that they put a lot of effort into optimalization and that you may need a better PC to experience this game to the fullest. I dont know about this guys, for me its just feels as a big fat lie onto my face, as said before, better looking games runs better than this. Its not ugly or anything but more like a buffed up Fallout 4 in space theme. Here is some examples:

While you may find better looking areas, your major part in the game will live with this.

Lazy work

Another point I would like to highlight is the use of AI. It was a bad idea back then at No Man's Sky and it was certanly a bad idea here as well. They put 1000+ planets into the game that was generated by the AI depending on where you land on the planet, and most of the time its barren, empty, lifeless. It feels like they gave out the order to the AI, to use these assets on planets and create 1000+ of them. What you can find on them are most of the time rocks, some creatures put into the area randomly and without any real purpose. And yes I admit, if you would travel to 100 planet you would probably find rocks and barren lifeless areas, but as a gamer its boring. It may be fun and interesting for the first couple of times, but it gets boring to the eye very fast. What I would love to see is more planets with life on it, more vegetation, more creatures, better and meaningfull stuff on the surface or marks of a fallen civilization. And we might see this later like 7 years or so just as in No Man's Sky was very bad at the start and they hammered it until it became a good space exploration game. As of right now however this game is without a soul. Also the harsh reality why they do not changing the engine they use, because they know they can create a base game, with a lot of empty suff, and then rely on modders whom will do the hard work and fill up the empty or missing elements for free. They say its a gamer/modder friendly attitude, but its just about saving money and resources which is unacceptable in my book. Create a good game then let the modders live out their hobby, but do not rely on them to make your garbage playable while only you profit on it.

Marketing vs Reality:

This game was marketinged as a very good space exploration + RPG game where you can freely explore hundreds of systems and planets and find interesting stuff on most of them. While on reality this game restricts you from exploring, since you cant land manually on a planet just everywhere (like in No Man's Sky for example), but you have to choose your landing location from a planet view, then loading screen, and you are there in your 4x4km barren field that you can explore with some point of interest you can visit on foot (Because if they would give you wehicle, then you would realise easier that how small the area they let you "explore") These point of interests varies between "kill some pirates, or creatures", "explore this cave with 3 loot nodes inside" or "scan this or that" "Explore the lab" type of activity. Again maybe the first 10 will be interesting, then why would I want to do stuff like this for hours? Where are the crypt like systems that Skyrim offered with full of interesting puzzles? Where are the npcs that did something in previous games around you? Where are the secrets you can discover? Where is the wilderness? Where is life? Its a game its not a space simulator that offers you the same kind of experience you would do in real life. It should be full of fantasy to sell itself. Again it was marketinged like this and not as "Empty planet viewer simulator 2023"

And after all of this, we arrived to the real problem that is not Starfield's only fault. Its the era where we live and what we get for our money. Im sure some of you have much better gaming rig than me and you dont even have to care what you spend on your 70-100 bucks, but there are people, whom like to do gaming and has to think twice where they put their hard earned money. And this game with many others in my eyes are not worth the full price. The general problem is that developers are probably forced to make the games to deadlines that are way too short. I accept that creating an AAA game is not 1-2 years now, especially if you want to make it uniq in some way. Developers are pushed to their limits, they dont have enough time to create something that has a soul nor they have the time to test the games properly looking for bugs and glitches, and they rely on technologies like FSR and DLSS to avoid the need of optimizing. All because the publishers are not gamers, they only looking for money, they dont care about you people. They put a lot of investment to marketing/false marketing to generate hype, and when they got their paycheck they are happy and get the conclusion, they can sell games this way too, why bother with all the details and polishment? Fanbase will always buy it, defend it, as I encountered this with Starfield too. I asked people, what makes Starfield better than even Fallout 4 if it has so many flaws and missing elements? They could not give me a correct answer. All they said it has a good story and ship and base building is very fun, and modders will make this game better anyways, so I will belive them that story may be better, but again its not up to the modders to polish a game or make it playable, interesting, especially not for free even if this was the general case with Skyrim, Fallout series in the past (except that those games had more content by default than Starfield). In other cases I was immediately banned from some forums for said reason "I was trying to generate flame" Well if asking the hard questions is flame generation then yes I was doing that. Is this what we will get from now on? That companies will sell their leftover soul for more money and the gaming industry will only have 2-3 games per 10 years that are really outstanding and was created with passion? What are your toughts about this? Tell me in the comments below.

#starfield #pc gaming #gaming #videogame #console #xbox #playstation #bethesda #fallout 4 #skyrim #elder scrolls #reviews

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satashiiwrites · 2 years

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fic tag game

Tagged by @outtoshatter. Thanks for the tag.

Rules - Recommend us 3 of YOUR fics: 1 that is “most popular” and 2 that are “hidden gems!”

Hm. Most popular? There’s really no contest if I’m looking at any of my stats.

Family, Familia, ‘Ohana is by far and away my most popular fic and is my take on the NavySeal!Buck trope. I really feel this works best in post-lawsuit mess era where there was just this weird resolution of things that I wanted to explore more. Throw in some timeline vagueness Hawaii 5-0 and a not yet together McDanno with a few borrowed SWAT characters (and a platonic Hondo/Decon slant) and you get this fic.

Fic summary: When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Read Family, Familia, ‘Ohana here on AO3.

As for more of a hidden gem type fics…. Hm.

This is like choosing between children.

I think I’m going to have to recommend my epic (that is still a wip and not abandoned) An Andromeda Tale, MReyder, Mass Effect Andromeda.

Why I’m recommending it: This is the fic that got me posting again after so many years of only being a reader and passive fandom participant. I’ve grown a lot as a writer because of this fic and I s2g it will get finished (eventually). I don’t think you have to have a lot of knowledge of Mass Effect Andromeda to enjoy it as I’ve tried to basically immerse the reader into the universe through Scott and Reyes’ viewpoints. In fact, it might be better if you haven’t played the game because of how much I’ve totally run with vague mentions and ideas to fill in gaps and plot holes that you could drive a Mac truck through. This is my take on an epic space opera as told by two people caught in the lynchpin of fate.

Fic summary: Scott Ryder never saw his life going this way, not that anyone ever asked him his opinion. Now he's pathfinder with too many people depending on his young shoulders and trying to figure out what he actually wants for himself. Reyes Vidal, man of mystery, former pilot and now sometimes smuggler. Who knows where he came from or his motivations but he's come to Andromeda to change his destiny. What neither Scott nor Reyes could have predicted is what their lives would be once they came to Andromeda.

Read An Andromeda Tale here on AO3

As for a third recommendation…. Hm. I really could recommend a few of these that don’t get enough love. I’m going to go with my only other long form wip that is another take on my favorite Sentinel/Guide trope, The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss, Mayans MC, Miguel Galindo/Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes, Sentinel/Guide AU.

Why this fic? Why another wip instead of a completed fic? Because you don’t need to know much about the universe to enjoy it—again probably better if you don’t since the more you watch of the show the more impossible the main pairing of Miguel and EZ is. They’re not related in this fic and it’s very AU. It’s also possibly the fic where I’ve done the most world building outside of my MReyder epic above and my brain likes to chew on these sort of fics like a dog with a favorite bone. Odds are when i’m out on my daily run or walk it’s one of these three fics that my brain is turning over how to approach my next plot point.

Fic summary: EZ Reyes came online with his mother’s violent death and suffered the consequences of his actions in the aftermath. When Jimenez offers him a deal to turn evidence in on the Galindo cartel, he agreed as he’d brought shame on his tribe by his actions and it was a chance at redemption that he didn’t feel he deserved. He just didn’t anticipate who his guide would be and the amount of trouble they’d generate for him. Miguel had goals—to legitimize the family business, enjoy life and his family. He didn’t anticipate any of the events that forced him online as a guide but now that he has a sentinel he’s not letting him go.

Read The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss here on AO3

Anyways, if you want complete fics of mine go read Seguir or I Wasn’t Looking Until I Found You.

Tagging @radio-chatter @quietborderline @tkwritesdumbassassins @missanniewhimsy @bwtch @imsupposedtobewritting and anyone else who i forgot or wants to participate. No pressure as always.

#Family familia ‘ohana #an andromeda tale #the outlaw and the cartel boss #fic rec tag game #mreyder #mcdanno #buddie #Miguel Galindo x Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes #fic recs

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friedchickenlover01 · 2 years

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SFW: Oneshot Of Aki Hayakawa x Himeno

No warnings.

Authors note - please mind i am going to be picky when doing character x character since im not that comfortable with it.

Please also mind that this does not follow the original plot.

Himeno puffed out from the cigarette. She really needed to get out of here, this was her last smoke after all.

Suddenly, footsteps came towards her. Tilting her head up, she came faced with her black haired partner.

She had always tried to make him quit, she knew only crazy people become devil hunters. Yet, he was just…normal. He became a devil hunter to avenge his family that was killed by the gun devil, even though both of them knew he didn’t stand a chance.

“Hey do you have another smoke?” Aki questioned. “Nope, sorry this is my last one” she replied, “Then, let me have that one”. “Seriously, you hopeless addict”. Himeno snarked as Aki proceeded to grab the cigarette and smoke.

Himeno stared at the man in front. What irony it was she thought. She remembered the early days where he used to be adamantly against smoking. When he finally agreed, he soon quickly fell into the addiction of the nicotine.

Soon, the final breath of the cigarette was gone and they carelessly flicked the cigarette on to the floor. Silence filled the room as they just continued to sit next to each other. There wasn’t much to do in this limited space.

Himeno knows her true feelings towards Aki, how she first wanted to prevent him from following the same ending that all her past partners got. Then she soon realised how dependable and cool he was. Which then led to the blossoming of the romantic feelings. But she knew he had feelings for Makima, she honestly didn’t see what he saw in her.

Like Himeno, Aki didn’t know how his feelings started, the reason why, or when. He just have - or now, had. He soon realised that he was becoming less flustered, and had the desire of wanting to be in the presence of another person. His teammate, Himeno. He just found the eyepatch girl’s presence more comforting, he was just glad for her contribution in his life.

He soon found himself desperately wanting to talk to the girl beside him.

“I”, he paused, his mind went blank, he didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to confess his real feelings. He could feel the curious gaze as he looked down at the floor. “ I don’t like Makima anymore. I don’t know how or why but i just don’t feel any more feelings for her, i guess. But I think i like you, like romantically”. Aki hastily confessed as a pink blush rose up on his face. Himeno’s eyes widened, she couldn’t figure out how if he was pulling a prank on her or not. Was he really serious? She thought. Her cool facade quickly fell through as a moment of love rushed over her. “ I - I, like you too” she answered. Aki could feel a rush of relief wash over him as the feeling of boulders on his shoulders disappeared. “Really? You’re not lying are you?” He questioned. He couldn’t process what was going on what now.

Himeno quickly got back her instantaneous mind and behaviour. She quickly grabbed him and kissed him, finally with the one - sided love, it was reciprocated. As the two lips linked in harmony. All anything both of them could feel was pure happiness. In their lives of grim and death, they felt they finally found their missing piece.

Soon, that moment would be found to be lead to a long lasting happy relationship.

#chainsaw man #aki hayakawa #himeno #aki hayakawa x himeno #himeno x aki hayakawa #himeno x aki #aki x himeno #friedchickenlover01 #duck…#nandoslover028 #godduckcult #anime #fanfic

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alvcrd · 1 year

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🌙 s𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

tagged by: @cicatriicem ty! tagging: @lunarscaled @judaspriested @monstriiss @ofwitchery @blccdsucker @malxshrine @hhemeraa @sosordid @mellodiies

what does your muse smell like? Alucard isn't really a physical entity persay so I like to think that he takes on the smell of what he consumes/is around him. After a fight or feed? He would smell like gunpowder and the metallic tang of blood. Just resting at the manor he might smell like red wine if he's drinking it or even nothing at all! He can't really get musty because he doesn't sweat or produce bodily odors like a human does, and he prefers to not really bother with fragrances too often because they are WAY too strong for his heightened sense of smell.

what do your muse’s hands feel like? Cold. He wears gloves nearly all the time, so his hands are rather soft. The backs of his palms possess his seals, the same as his gloves except they are literally burned into his skin. Fingers are long, a little bony and tipped in slightly pointed nails.

what does your muse usually eat in a day? So I made a headcanon about this in the past, but Alucard generally has an allotment of around 5 blood bags a day. For Integra, it's a fine line because as powerful as he is he requires a substantial amount of blood to remain healthy, but too much would make him far too powerful. It also seems that Alucard is allowed to indulge as much as he wants before a big fight, since before he went to kill Rip Van Winkle, there's a scene in the manga where he is SURROUNDED by empty blood bags. Furthermore, he isn't opposed to stealing blood from either humans or other vampires while out on a job, as seen during the Rio massacre so I guess the true answer is 'it depends.'

does your muse have a good singing voice? You know this isn't really something I've explored; I'd love to say yes but I'm leaning towards more of an average voice.

does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks? He does have his fair share of bad habits; being nosy, no concept of personal space, being blunt to the point of being a dick, but I can't say Alucard has any nervous ticks.

what does your muse usually look like / wear? Alucard can look however he wants! He can take any shape/form/gender, but his default look is his long scrawny body type with mid-back length hair, the black suit and red duster coat. Don't forget the reflective glasses and wide brimmed hat! A look I like to call the carmen sandiego, but it's actually copied from the look Integra's grandfather wore the day he defeated Alucard. He's not particular with clothes, and might only modify what he wears to suit a specific purpose such as blending in with humans as seen with the suit in Rio or to fight such as the leather body suit seen during several battles.

is your muse affectionate? how much? how so? The broad answer to this would be no, but that's not true with specific cases. Alucard does show affection to Integra and Seras, and to his past lover Mina; but generally Alucard isn't the type to do romance, to cuddle or show much outward affection. On rare occasions he does it's almost always in private and with small gestures such as doing little favors for those he cares about, the softening of his expression, inviting them in to spend time around him.

what position does your muse sleep in? Alucard generally falls asleep in his chair, legs crossed and hands either folded in his lap or being used to lean his head against. Rarely does he sleep in his coffin, if only for regenerative purposes. When he's in the coffin he obviously sleeps on his back or just becomes an amorphous blob of black miasma that fills it.

could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room? It depends. His voice has a baritone to it that can probably be heard in a muffled way, but when generally speaking his volume is more on the low side. He doesn't mumble and speaks clearly, but he only raises his voice when angry or excited. When he's loud he's LOUD, and would clearly be able to be heard several rooms over.

#𝕴 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖘 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 — ( HEADCANONS )

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peeks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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spanishskulduggery · 3 years

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I'm not sure if you answered this already, but what are some common verbs/words in spanish that have multiple uses/meanings?

Okay, so the basics that everyone will experience in one way shape or form that have so many meanings depending on context and use:

ser = to be (permanently) | has extremely wide usage with multiple things, also used for telling time, passive voice; it basically gets used for existence in general

estar = to be (temporary) | also used very widely, though typically with the same general idea of a static location or temporary feeling, I'm including it because it's used widely and has different applications including the gerund forms

dar = to give | has so many applications and idiomatic expressions, and also in some contexts means "to hit/strike" which is often used for starting music, clocks striking, or just hitting something... even I don't know all the applications for dar and I'm always stumbling upon it and being momentarily confused

tener = to have | while it does mean "to physically have" or "possess" you will see it very widely in tener expressions with hunger, thirst, birthdays, feeling warm or cold, being funny, have to do something etc etc. These are more clearly documented than dar but tener can trip up a lot of people

ir / andar = to go | both verbs here mean "to go", but they also get used very widely, and andar which is sometimes “to wander/roam” in particular is frequently used in idiomatic expressions, or used colloquially [it’s hard to explain in limited space, so ask me if you need more concrete examples of andar]... so you always want to be aware of it

haber = there is/there are | in general you won't get very far in Spanish before you see haber in some iteration, whether it's hay as "there is/are" or in past había "there was/were", haber also has some other expressions; in Spain you might see haber de which is "to need to do (something)", in universal Spanish hay que "one must (do something)", and just the entire set of perfect tenses relies on haber + past participles

poner = to put | poner is a weird one because it's more regular than the above, but still irregular... it's "to put", but also "to set" a table, and ponerse can be "to get (emotion)" or it can be "to put on (clothes)" or it might be "for the sun to set"... poner has a lot of range but you can definitely intuit the general meaning most of the time

ver = to see | usually it’s just “to see”, but verse is “to look (appearance)” or “to see oneself (as)”, or in context it can be “to face (someone)”... it has some other applications but it’s less irregular

hacer = to do/make | extremely versatile, you’ll definitely see hacer being used for all kinds of things like the weather, or hacerse “to become”... it’s a lot that hacer can do

echar = to throw | normally you see echar as “to throw/fling”, but it also means “to give off”... and it gets used in lots of idiomatic expressions, as well as in Spain as echar de menos “to miss (someone/something)” which is different for Latin America [Note: In Latin America, extrañar is “to miss (someone/something)”, though it is often “to be surprised” in other contexts especially in Spain, no me extraña is “it doesn’t surprise me”... literally “it doesn’t estrange me” or “it doesn’t come across as strange to me”]

Just some other verbs that I’m just going to list as they come to me that have multiple meanings or multiple contextual meanings:

esperar = to hope, to desire esperar = to wait / to await

querer = to want querer = to love

llevar = to carry / to bring, to transport llevar a alguien = to give someone a ride, to take someone (somewhere) llevar = to include, to contain [used in food; este plato lleva frutos secos “this dish contains nuts” for example] llevar = to take [as in lleva tilde / lleva acento “it has an accent mark”]

tomar = to take tomar agua/medicina = to drink water / to take medicine tomar el sol = to sunbathe tomar el aire = to get some air, to get some fresh air tomar una decisión = to make a decision

volar = to fly volar = to blow up volar(se) = to get high, to take drugs

alterar = to alter, to change alterar = to upset, to make someone angry/upset

dudar = to doubt dudar = to hesitate

agitar = to agitate, to bother, to annoy agitar = to shake, to stir

abandonar = to abandon abandonar = to leave (a place)

solicitar = to request, to solicit, to petition solicitar = to apply for, to fill out an application for

sonar = to ring (a phone/bell/alarm) sonar(le) = “to ring a bell”, to sound familiar sonar a = to sound like

llorar = to cry llorar (a alguien) = to mourn (someone)

sentir = to sense, to hear or feel / to notice sentir = to feel regret/sorry [as in lo siento or siento tu pérdida which are “I’m sorry” and “sorry for your loss”] sentirse + emociones = to feel (an emotion)

sentar = to settle / to set / to establish sentar (a alguien) = to seat, to give someone a seat or to put someone in a chair sentarse = to sit down

explotar = to explode, to blow up explotar = to exploit, to take advantage up [also “to mine” in some cases]

quedar = to remain / to be left [used in subtraction as well] quedar(le) bien/mal = to fit (clothes), to suit (someone) quedarse con = to inherit quedarse = to become quedarse = to stay behind

apuntar = to make notes, to note apuntar = to indicate, to point at apuntar = to aim, to aim at apuntarse = to sign up

pensar = to think pensar = to plan, to intend

suponer = to suppose, to guess suponer = to pose, to signify [eg. supone un riesgo “it poses a risk”]

volver = to return volver (a hacer) algo = to (do something) again volverse = to become / to go [as in volverse loco/a “to go crazy”

pasar = to pass pasar = to occur, to come to pass pasar de (algo/alguien) = to be done with (something/someone), to give up (something/someone) pasar por alto = to overlook

perseguir = to chase, to pursue perseguir = to persecute

marcar = to mark, to make a mark marcar = to press (a button)

tirar = to throw tirar = to pull, to attract tirar = to shoot, to fire tirar = to waste, to throw away, to squander [also tirarse can be “to have sex with” in a vulgar way]

gastar = to spend (money/energy) gastar = to wear out

conocer = to know (people/places) conocer(se) = to meet (someone)

saber = to know (facts/things) saber = to taste saber a algo = to taste like something

velar = to stay awake, to stay up velar = to keep watch, to watch over / to stand vigil

elaborar = to elaborate, to add detail elaborar = to brew (alcohol/soup/potions etc; something that requires time and effort and balancing flavors) elaborar = to develop, to devise, to come up with, to produce

manifestar = to manifest manifestar(se) = to protest

conducir = to guide, to conduct conducir = to drive a car [some countries, often Spain]

manejar = to manage manejar = “to manage”, to manipulate, to coerce manejar = to drive a car [some countries, often Latin America]

bajar = to lower / to drop bajar = to go downstairs bajar = to descend, to go down, to get (down) off (of a vehicle)

desplegar(se) = to unfurl, to open up, to unravel desplegar = to deploy, to send (troops/supplies etc)

guardar = to guard / to watch over guardar = to keep / to keep safe

enseñar = to show enseñar = to point, to point out enseñar = to teach

mandar = to give orders / to be in charge mandar = to send

probar = to try probar = to sample, to try (food) probar = to prove

montar = to ride (a horse/bike) montar = to set up, to stage

escapar = to escape escapar(se) = to leak

ganar = to win / to beat someone at something ganar(se) = to earn ganarse el pan = to earn a living [lit. “to earn bread”]

pedir = to request pedir = to order (food)

sacar = to take out, to remove sacar una buena nota = to get a good grade sacar ventaja = to take advantage sacar(le) el quicio = to drive someone nuts [lit. “to take the sense/sanity out of someone”]

encantar(le) = to delight / to really enjoy encantar = to enchant, to bewitch, to hex

pegar(se) = to stick, to stick to pegar = to hit, to strike, to punch

doblar = to double doblar(se) = to fold (paper/things) / to curve, to bend doblar(se) = to bend over / to bow

tocar = to touch tocar = to play (an instrument) tocar(le) = to be someone’s turn [indirect objects]

subir = to go up, to rise / to climb subir = to get into (a vehicle or ride) subir (algo) = to upload (something) [also has some other uses]

Also not including verbs that take on secondary meanings with technology like cargar is “to carry” but also “to load” or “to charge”... or iniciar is “to iniciate” or “to log in”, or navegar is “to sail/navigate” but is also used as “to surf (the web)” things like that

But some common ones you’ll want to know are encender which is “to light” as in “to set on fire” but it also means “to turn on (electronics)” because it used to mean something like to light a candle but that became turning on light switches etc. Similarly, apagar is “to extinguish” but is also ‘to turn off (electronics)”

Additionally be aware of arrancar “to yank” or “to pull out” but also means “to start up (machinery)”. The way I was taught to remember it is to think of a lawn mower or chainsaw, pulling a chain to start something up

There are also some verbs that are technically related but mean different things. Some of them are on that list but as an example - agotar is “to drain”, since it’s related to la gota “drop (of liquid)”... but agotar can also be “to run out of” or it can be “to exhaust (someone)”, so they’re connected in the same idea, but they are technically different contexts. Another one would be pulir which is “to polish”, but it can mean “to improve” or “to brush up on” in the same way we say “to polish your skills”

Some are more contextual; cantar is “to sing” but in a lot of crime scenarios, cantar is “to confess”. Another one is admitir which (like English) could be “to admit/confess” or “to admit/allow” or “to admit/let enter”

I’m also not going to include certain verbs that change meaning based on reflexive or not reflexive in general aside from those above, because that gets into some complicated linguistics territory but just be aware that occasionally things get complicated when you see reflexives

*Note: There are lots of verbs that mean “to become” and that is an entirely separate issue

#Spanish #language #languages #learning Spanish #langblr #verbos #vocabulario #so much vocab

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suesylvesterf · 3 years

Note

What was going to an all girls school like, if you don't mind me asking? :)

OK anon im so sorry this is so long and so convuluted I actually got so carried away jdbKJBGKSDBGH. i'm not even sure i properly answered your question i just got overwhelmed with Love for my same-sex schooling DHGKJSDFBHG anyway, if there's anything more you want to know lmk and I will try to be concise next time 💀

Essentially, my own experience at a single-sex secondary school was fantastic—however, I know my experience isn’t universal, especially since my school was a little bit different to most, I think.

That being said, I still think that sending your daughters to female-only secondary schools is something every parent should strive to do if they can. No other learning environment will ever be as good for girls as a same-sex school.

In terms of school staff, mine was about 95% female, and 5% male. The few male teachers we had were genuinely competent men and decent teachers, they were also watched like hawks. Our principal was female, all leadership positions in the school (such as House Leaders, Year Level Co-Ordinators, Department Heads, even the chaplain) were held by women. Our school psychologists, our nurses, our library technicians, our café ladies, our career advisors, our tutors—all were women. Our school houses (think like Harry Potter houses) were named after important women in our country’s history.

I went to a co-ed primary school. And whilst at twelve you might not have the words to describe it, graduating from a co-ed space, into an all-female space is really a giant weight off of your shoulders. You don’t realise how suffocating co-education is until you’re no longer having to bear it. It feels so much more natural, so much more free! You are welcomed as you are. You can be loud and unashamed of it. We joked frequently with each other and our teachers, laughed loudly and cared not whether our laughs were ‘ugly’. I found that teachers were far more supportive than they were in my co-ed school. For example, in a co-ed school I had been told frequently to ‘pipe down’ or to ‘reel it in’ from teachers, and more vexingly to ‘shut up’ from boys due to my boisterous personality. In high school? My teachers encouraged me to audition for the play because I had ‘great projection’. In every school programme (more on those later) that I was involved in, I was the one asked to give speeches about them at assembly. I was asked to be the lead of our house chants during our sports festivals. I was asked to join the debate team because of my passionate nature, which in primary school, had me known as ‘difficult’.

Likewise, I had a friend who was by nature quiet, and loved to draw. In primary school she’d doodled on the back of a work booklet, and when her teacher returned it, she’d taken off two points and had written a comment saying something about teachers in high school not accepting work that was drawn on.

Do you know what happened when she got to high school? Our English teacher had seen the eye she’d drawn on the back of our Romeo and Juliet test and had written, ‘beautiful!’ above it. The next test, she drew a two-headed cat with witches’ hats on both heads (I remember the left head was called Turpentine and the right head was called Esmeralda). Our teacher wrote, ‘wonderful!’ above it, with a smiley face.

The next day she got an email from our art teacher that had a PDF flyer of information on both in-school and local art competitions.

Anyway, she had questions and that teacher answered every single one of them. She also personally helped her select the works she wanted to submit. She ended up having two pieces shown in the school gallery, along forty pieces made by other girls. About five years later for our final year, on that art teacher’s recommendation (and tutelage!) she took all of the visual art subjects on offer. When she graduated, her final piece was shown at a public exhibition in our state’s capital city, that honoured the best pieces done by select graduating students in the state.

So yeah. Our teachers were pretty amazing. Of course, there was the odd teacher or two you would butt heads with but that’s just a universal school experience. Our humanities classes, like history, for example, often had a unit that would focus on the female experience of a certain time period. For example, when learning about WW2, we did projects on female resistance fighters et cetera.

We had health classes that were actually focused on female health. We learnt about female anatomy (even the clitoris! Though we were all about thirteen/fourteen at this time so we found it incredibly awkward to talk about), as well as symptoms of PCOS during our menstrual unit. We learnt about contraceptive methods and devices (however, as a Catholic school they did have to tell us that whilst these methods are available, the church-sanctioned method is of course, abstinence).

Whilst the majority of the girls shaved their legs and wore makeup, as someone who did neither of those things I rarely felt judgement about it (albeit, I think there was a little for my lack of makeup, but this only lasted the first two years). A good portion of our staff also did not wear makeup, I don’t recall this ever being commented on. And, by the time we’d reached about our third year, a good portion of my year level and the ones above did not wear makeup on a daily basis. Leg hair was not looked down upon by any of us I don’t think by this year either. In fact, if you were particularly hairy often your hairless friends asked to rub your legs!

We were never short of female role-models, our staff made sure of that. We had multiple days per year when guest speakers would come and talk to us, mostly these were women who were experts in their fields—whether that be neuroscience or computer science, linguistics and literature or mathematics, politics, et cetera. The only times we really had male guest speakers was when police officers (one male one female) came to give us an assembly about sexual peer-pressure and laws around sharing nudes that was basically, “these are common (male) manipulation tactics used to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, don’t fall for them”.

We were encouraged to take STEM subjects, and those of us that had taken interest in computer programming were sent to coding programmes in the city during school hours! That’s how keen our teachers were to get more women into the field! This was the same with the girls interested in politics, who got to go to Model UN events, as well as mock parliaments in the country’s capitol.

We had a lot of programmes generally. A few overseas ones for girls who were in LOTE (languages other than English) classes. A few interstate ones, too. And of course, local programmes and excursions. Most of them (aside from the LOTE ones which focused on immersion) were volunteer programmes aimed at helping women and girls. The rest were about furthering our own skills or learning new ones. Majority of these were year-level based, but a few depended on the clubs/groups/classes you were in. For example, I was part of the Writer’s Club, and we took an excursion to the state Writer’s Festival and listened to female writers as well as feminist panels. We also had self-defence programmes every year.

In terms of peers I generally found everyone to be quite amiable by the time we’d reached our third/fourth year. There’s a common myth about all girls schools being filled with ‘catty’ girls who are constantly bitching about one another, but I really did not find that to ring true. There were a few fights and arguments in the earlier years, I was part of quite a lot lol but that’s honestly… just something that happens at school, at any school. Largely, we were good to each other. If someone was crying there was always someone who’d ask her what was wrong. If you missed the notes on the slide, there was always a girl willing to share her notes with you.

I think going to an all-girl’s school, and not having that much interaction with the opposite sex generally for that six-year period truly does something, I think, to your psyche. We are socialised to look down on our fellow woman, socialised to look down upon ourselves. But actually being constantly surrounded by women, and almost ONLY women, really helps to undo that. Even now I could not describe the fierce love I have for all those women and girls I came in contact with during my time there—even the ones I bickered with. Each and every single woman I met there enriched my life in some way or another. I think that is the effect of consistently spending time in any female-only space: developing a true appreciation for women. It is the only reasonable conclusion to come to.

I have been out of high school for two years, and in university for one. Among the many men I have met since, none of them have even been able to hold a candle to the any women and girls I know.

Anyway. TLDR: it slapped, send your daughters to same-sex schools!!

#this is so long sorry #long post #radfem safe #separatism #radfem

277 notes · View notes

noaltbruh · 3 years

Note

I hope this follows the rules! But is it okay if I request a scenario where Giorno has a nightmare of turning into Diavolo and S/O comforts him when he wakes up?

My first request in so long, what an honor!

You're surely a fan of this scenario, I've seen you requesting it quite a lot of times.

Either way, let's get into it!

Esci dalla mia testa

06/04/2004

Midnight had just struck, it had already been three years.

Three years since Giovanna had become the new Don of Passione, and since the former had been punished for his actions.

But in reality, time had lost meaning to the young boy years ago. Everything he did, it felt so...Mechanic, so frivolous, simply keeping track of the days in order not to forget an important reunion.

He buried himself under thousands of piles of work, which only seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every day that passed. This was supposed to be his dream, his greatest goal, and he had reached it at such a young age.

But then...Why did he feel so empty?

He was supposed to be happy, after all the sacrifices that had been made to arrive so far, he had to be grateful for everything that's been given to him.

But he couldn't be, because those sacrifices were not his own, because innocent lives had been taken away, because he had come.

He truly was no different than the man whom he had condemned to suffer for all eternity. But he had to clinch his teeth, and keep on going with his head high, for the few people that were still by his side. Most importantly, for his partner.

As everyone around him had found a significant other, pressured by his best friend, he had decided to reluctantly indulge in this so called 'romance'.

And when you two finally met, he felt like a tiny fickle of faith had risen inside of his heart again.

You listened to him, to his struggles, to his doubts, to each one of his complaints like the were the only worries in the world. He failed to express how much you meant to him, after those...'Accidents', he had become even more close-up about his feelings.

You were very well aware of his workaholic tendencies, as most nights, you were the one to ask him to put down all the documents and get some rest

And this...Was one of those.

As you rapidly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from your own day, you felt a soft hand gently caressing your forehead. You were so warm and comforting, like a puppy, the only one able to give him hope in this twisted world.

But sadly, your presence could not magically make all his guilt and insecurities go away, and he had accepted that.

After contemplating your dreaming figure for a minute, he slowly closed his eyes, wishing to escape, just for a short while, from all those crushing responsibilities and expectations.

His consciousness started to slip away, he felt ready to conclude another day. Until, he heard whispering. Weak, confused, peculiar sounds, he could not understand a word of what those voices were trying to tell him, they were too far from the boy.

But they wouldn't stop. Delicate, constant and unbearable like the sound of a drip of water falling into a sink. They were playing with the Don's patience, a sleeping lion that should not disturbed, unless you wanted to be torn to pieces.

His mind immediately connected the situation to a possible Stand attack, nothing out of his normality, per se, but he was not concerned for himself. You were still peacefully resting, clinging to your sheets, it was a quite cold night. He wouldn't have let a single soul cause any harm to his darling, she was his only true happiness, his sunshine.

In the moment he stepped outside of the bedroom, what he was faced with sent a frozen shiver down his spine, as he brought his hand to his chest, to control his heartbeat.

There were four doors, floating in absolute darkness. A weak stream of light, that seemed to be originated from nothingness, illuminated each one of them singularly.

The whispering got louder and louder, faint giggles could occasionally be heard. The young one turned around to look at the entrance of this cursed place, the one he had just walked through.

But there was nothing there.

And so, like a captured prey that had nothing left to lose, he ventured himself into the first door, only to be met with a monochromatic version of Fugo. He was breathing heavily, desperately sobbing and all curled up on himself, on the shore of the same place where the rest of the gang had decided to betray Passione.

Giorno was standing on top of the water, unable to move a single inch of his body.

"Look at what you did"

A deep voice murmured in his ear. One he hadn't heard in a long time, one he wished he could have erased from his memories, that infected his mind and was more deadly than the sobbing boy's stand.

Diavolo.

"Me? Fugo chose not to leave, it was his own fault if-"

"If he was abandoned by everyone he loved? Do you have any idea of how selfish it sounds?"

The boy hesitated for a brief moment, staring at those warm tears falling into the canal.

"It was just...A temporary matter, he rejoined Passione, he's doing better now"

"My, it must have surely been fun to prove your loyalty to someone who caused the death of half of the people you cared about, after refusing to participate in his little suicide mission"

The blond's legs started to tremble, mantainig his composure was starting to look impossible.

"They...They didn't die because of me, they sacrificed themselves for a noble cause, for making Italy a better place, they wished it as much as I did"

The man contained his laughter, then he continued.

"Is that so? Why don't say that in their faces then?"

The image of the lonely boy disappeared, together with everything in the room. Giorno was back to that black space, but the door was now missing.

And the next one...Had nothing better reserved for him.

He found himself in the island of Sardegna, the only sound that could be heard were the small waves that met with the coast.

He knew perfectly why he was here. He took a closer look at the seaside, there were some footsteps printed on it. He felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of where they would have brought him.

Abbacchio's lifeless body was laying on top of a rock, surrounded by dead flowers. His entire torso had been torn apart, and yet... His corpse was smiling. A tiny, melancholic smile on his purple lips.

"Do you still have the courage to repeat what you said?"

Diavolo began, in a mocking tone.

"When he became part of the Organization, he was at his lowest, he had nowhere else to go, every path he took brought him nothing but sorrow and disappointment. The only thing that gave him comfort was following Bucciarati...And so, with that excuse, I transformed him in one of minions"

The thought of calling out Gold Experience hit Giorno's mind, but he knew that there was no point of lying to himself. The albino was gone, his soul had left his body long ago.

"I don't need you to tell me just how disgusting you are"

He said, his voice was filled with a suffocated rage, as he knelt over to look closer at his former companion.

"Abbacchio couldn't have cared less about killing me, he came with you because Bucciarati did, because he so desperately wanted to follow him, he felt like scum at the thought of no longer having him in his life"

The boy with emerald eyes felt an hand touching him on his shoulder, but there was no one there, except for himself.

"You exploited his dependence from the man, and used at your advantage, just as I did"

He stopped for a brief moment, enjoying the desperation in the other's eyes.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance

And with that, the second room disappeared as well. The boy contemplated whether to remain in that hellish void or to move forward, the image of what was waiting on the other side hurt way too much, his juvenile soul was starting to crush.

But he couldn't remain there, it would have meant giving up to Diavolo's twisted games, seeing him break down was exactly what he was waiting for.

He turned the doorknob, when he felt something humid staining his clothes: there was fresh blood streaming from his lady bug pins. The trail that it formed on the ground invited him to follow its path. He knew he couldn't decline, none of what he wanted seemed to matter in this place.

A metallic railing stood in front of him, his entire pins bled so much to the point of consuming themselves. An horrific scream coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time echoed through the room, as he directed his gaze to the top of the grey construction.

"What a shame...Oh well, he was the most disposable member of the team anyway"

Narancia's corpse was resting among dozens of spikes, his faded orange bandage slipped from his dark hair, landing right next to Giorno's feet.

"Oh Narancia...So young, so naive, just another victim of this unfair world. That's what you're thinking, isn't that right, Giovanna?"

"This is why people like him should not be involved in this business..."

"Mh? And why is that? Childish minds are the easiest to manipulate"

Ignoring his last statement, the other leaned down to pick up the bandage, but his hand went through it. His body was starting to feel dizzy, like it belonged to somebody else.

"Not answering won't make me go away, the damage has already been done, after all"

"Narancia should have NEVER joined Passione in the first place. He could have gone to school...Have a normal life, but-"

"But he died for your cause before he could. What he said before I activated King Crimson melted my heart a little, how cute...He really trusted you that much to the point of thinking that he would have come out of it alive"

The railing emanated a cracking sound. For a second, he was afraid it would have fallen off, causing him to get impaled as well.

"I took away his chance of living an happy, standard life when he decided to work for me, and you did the same, allowing him to come along with the rest of your team"

The small boy suddenly faded away, together with the rest.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance"

At last, there it was: only one room left. Despite how deeply he cared about each one of his former team members, the premonition of what would have come next was more painful than everything he's seen so far altogether.

He sat down, staring at the door from a distance, his eyes emptier than the ones of his old allies. They say that eyes are the window of the soul, and nothing else could have been used to describe his inner turmoil. Nothing but a faded, dull green, testimony of all his battle scars and the survivor guilt that he tried so much to repress.

Perhaps his eternal punishment had arrived: having the chance to confront his inner demons, to move on, to show how fearless he was.

...But never truly grasping the idea of freedom, never facing and accepting what really happened, he was never given the time to. So much had oppressed him all at once, he couldn't keep up with it.

He was a child, a child that had to grow too fast.

But then, someone came out of the door. A bittersweet figment of his imagination, that made his heart stop beating for a second.

The one he hadn't seen in years, the one he had tried to subdue the most, the one that showed him for the first time in his life what love was, stood in front of him. There was no hole in his chest, no sign of blood or wounds, a reassuring smile accompanied his face, as he held out his hand to the grieving kid.

"What are you doing all alone in here? The others are worried for you. Let's not make them wait any longer, shall we?"

Giorno ignored his help, his gaze was stuck on that endless floor. He didn't have the courage to look at the other, his presence alone felt like a sadistic joke.

He didn't look sad, depressed, miserable... He was just...Tired.

He wanted to cry those tears that he had denied in the last three years, he wanted to yell at that illusion to leave him alone, that wasn't the real Bruno, it couldn't be.

But, as he impeded any of this from coming out, something he didn't think he would have felt in a thousand of years struck him.

Bucciarati hugged him.

A tight, comforting hug like one of a mother, that he was waiting for his child to reciprocate. The latter's breathing became heavier and heavier with every moment that passed, as weak laments rapidly turned into audible sobs.

"There's no reason to be sad now, I'm real, you can feel it, can't you?"

"Y-You...You're here...But h-how is it p-possible?"

The brunette chuckled, the sound of his laughter was more comforting than an angel's voice.

"It isn't"

Giovanna's stand penetrated the man's torso, but its arm...It was not Gold Experience's. It had a checkered red and white pattern that extended in its entirety, and it possessed an amount of physical strength which was out of any possible expectations for the creature able to give life.

"Foolish child, I thought you were better than this, I'd lie if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed"

The sound of Bruno's corpse falling to the ground resonated through that empty space, as the last door vanished. A puddle of blood originated from his horrible injury, it was big enough for the boy to see his reflection in.

"You are no better than me under any point of view. We took advantage of his kindness, we used him as a simple pawn for our own gain. The only difference between us, is that I was not manipulating enough to convince him to join my side voluntarily. He was a tool to the both of us, but you were the one who caused his demise"

The mirror that had been created showed two people, but the transparent figure of Diavolo immediately ceased to be visible. The only one left was Giorno, though his reflection seemed to mutate with every second that passed.

His blond curls started to change shape, turning into a fuchsia mess, with dirty green stains on it. His eyes had a killer, maniacal look inside of them, his pupils got smaller in horror. His entire body structure was different. He looked older, more muscular, his clothes, too, were no longer his own.

"Mista loved him, and you killed him"

"Fugo loved him, and you killed him"

"Trish loved him, and you killed him"

"Narancia loved him, and you killed him"

"Abbacchio loved him, and you killed him"

"You loved him, and you killed him"

...

"Giorno? Giorno please, wake up!"

You screamed, your sleep was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend hyperventilating, as he desperately held you to himself, still trapped in that horrible dream.

You sighed in relief when he abruptly opened his eyes, so swollen and red from all the tears he's shed.

"Another nightmare, uh?"

You asked, gently caressing his back to try and calm him down, he was as vulnerable as a baby that runs to his parents after having a bad dream. Waking up in the middle of the night to comfort him is something you had grown accustomed to, but you had never seen him this shaken up.

He slightly nodded in response, grabbing the top of your pajamas. You put an hand behind his head, making him rest on your chest, and kissed him softly on his forehead.

You could hear him murmuring something, you couldn't tell wherever he was talking to you, or to himself.

"I-I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry..."

He repeated like a broken record, you could barely make out what he was trying to say.

"Tesoro, you've done nothing wrong, there's no one you owe your apologizes to"

The boy raised his head slightly, intertwining your fingers with his, he needed to feel sure that this was not another tremendous trick of his mind.

"See? I'm here, you don't have to be afraid. I know that you feel unworthy of my feelings, but there is no one out there that deserves love more than you do. Nobody is perfect, Giorno, you did everything that was in your power to help them"

"But I...I was the one w-who put them in danger in the first place"

"No, you were not. You all shared the same ideals, you saved them from the oppression they were put in"

As you swept those remaining drops away from his face, you could still feel his entire body shaking like a dried leaf in a windy day of autumn.

"N-None of this would have happened if I didn't come along..."

"Exactly, none of them would have known what it meant to be free. I...Understand that the sacrifices that were made are not easy to forget, but blaming yourself like this...Do you really think that's what they would have wanted?"

Not receiving an answer, you laid down once again, still holding him in your arms. You forced a tiny smile, kissing him delicately on his lips, and whispered in his ear that everything would have been okay.

But, in reality...You felt you were trying to reassure yourself as well. This was not something you could have solely resolved through staying by his side, healing from this would have taken a lot of time, but...At least, you could offer some temporary safety, and it seemed to be enough for the time being.

In fact, after some minutes, everything seemed to cease. The boy fell asleep once again, this time with the knowledge that you were there to protect him.

You sighed, praying for your darling to finally find some peace.

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Soured Nostalgia

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When Reader moves their stuff in to Spencer’s apartment they find photos that he kept over the years. One photo of the past springs up memories of Spencer’s precious relationship with Elle.

A/N: hey heeeyyy everybody- here’s a fic I’ve been really excited to share with everyone. It’s my eleventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days!!! This was the original request (I made it a little different lol I hope you like it)I had a fun time with it mostly cause I totally think Spencer and Elle had something going on at some point 😉 Plus I got to incorporate older angsty post prison Spencer and mention how he used to be a little baby ☺️ I’m curious to hear y’all’s thoughts about the Reidaway ship, or really anything so feel free to drop an ask to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Joking about being jealous???, Reidaway in the past, Spencer being sad about the people who’ve left him, Sub Spencer, Only a bit of dry sex, Masturbation, Unprotected sex, Use of a belt to restrain, A few taps on the cheek, Reader’s hand is around Spencer’s throat for a second

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.2k

Reminiscing on the past was difficult depending on how the story had ended. Memories that may have been happy could turn too painful because of the ending result. Age turned the memories into unreliable accounts as well, unable to truly remember how things had been back then and how you had truly felt.

Memories were still something to hold onto and cherish even though they got twisted with age and opinion. Nostalgia, a sentimental or wishful affection for the past, was an addictive feeling even if it made you cry. It remained addictive even if most of your past memories had hurt you with no sentiment attached. Everyone always chased the euphoric feelings they had when looking at the ghosts of their past. Sometimes even when looking back you can find something that had once soured had turned sweet again.

Spencer had many memories that he was no longer able to look back upon for a host of reasons. Most often it was because he could no longer bear to look back on a memory of someone who had left him. Whether it was his Dad, Gideon, Hotch, Blake, Elle, and many others, looking back at them just made him often feel like everyone in his entire life had left him.

That wasn’t true of course, he still had his Mom- and you. Even with his Mom there were still many of his memories with her were still stained with guilt, though that had gotten better with time and with your help.

You had begun helping him find the benefit in looking back, trying to make the soured nostalgia a bit sweeter again. It was getting easier as time ticked by for him to open up to you about everything in his past, the good and the bad. At first you had been staring at a wall that he had been building higher and higher throughout the years, it was daunting how tall it was. When you helped take a sledgehammer to it, making it crumble beneath your effort, he pulled away for a while. He felt comfortable by himself behind his own Great Wall until you showed him the benefits of sharing the secrets he held behind it. But, you still stayed, helping him as much as you could until he was willing to open up.

It had been many months since you started your effort to help him break it down. At some point in the last months you had both fallen into a relationship, a romantic one. What had once been a platonic relationship forged from shared interests evolved into a romance emerging from the rubble of his wall.

He had even given you a key to his apartment at one point, which he had never done with anyone except the bureau. Emily was the one that really had it, but that was strictly for work reasons. This was a show of trust which was much more helpful than his wall that had reached the heights of a skyscraper.

A simple key soon turned into you staying at his place more often than at your own. You had casually mentioned one day while watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries that you basically lived here now. It was a true statement, most of the clothes you wore on a daily basis had been given a spot in his dresser and the toothbrush you kept there was not the one you used for travel- that one was at your place. You had begun to put your mark on Spencer’s life in a more permanent way than before.

When he had spontaneously suggested the next day that you should move in with him, you knew that your small comment had stuck in his brain. It was easy to agree to, you had said you basically already lived here, plus living with the love of your life sounded like a dream. You only had a few things that you wanted to bring over and it was mostly decorative stuff that you could’ve let go if Spencer hadn’t insisted that he wanted you to make the space your own.

While turning the space that was once solely Spencer’s into something for you both, you had found a small clear box with a blue lid, filled with pictures. Spencer didn’t have a lot of personal pictures framed, there was one with you and him by the bed, one with the team by his desk, one with him and Morgan on the living room wall, and one with you two and his Mom also hung up in the living room.

When you had shown him the box he could tell you were curious, letting you look through it without a moment of hesitation. In the past Spencer would have been wary sharing his memories with you, but now he’d let you look. If only you could get him to look at the box with you.

You weren’t surprised he didn't want to look with you once you saw the people littered throughout the snapshots. Varying people that had left were in most of them, even some you never met.

Ones with Hotch and Gideon- even one from a long time ago with his father buried at the bottom. As you browsed through them you were glad he was able to hang up that photo of him and Morgan, at least they had parted with some closure. It also helped that he still saw him regularly, he had never fully left like some of the people from his past.

One picture in particular stood out to you, it was another team photo, they seemed more carefree in this one compared to now. There was baby Spencer, before you had known him, in a birthday boy hat smiling with the rest of the team. You guessed it was around his 23rd or 24th birthday, going by the slick back gelled hair he had sported in his earlier years. He seemed so much more different back then, perhaps more carefree compared to now. But, he also seemed much more unsure of himself, maybe a bit self conscious. In the photo you could tell he was nervous, just by the look in his eyes. He still had that same look in his eyes whenever he felt nervous.

Then you looked closer at where his eyes were focused on, there was a clear line of sight from him to Elle. Elle was way less nervous in this captured moment compared to Spencer, though from what you had heard she had always been like that.

Your gaze on the photo was broken when Spencer then came into the living room where you were sitting on the couch.

You decided to test the waters to see if he might want to take a look at the photo with you, “Why do you look so nervous in this photo?”

He stopped the path he had been taking, then stood still for a second before deciding to sit next to you on the couch. Straining his neck he gazed over at the photo you were holding in your hands. It was silent for a while as he looked over it, stopping to look at his old team. Some of the team still remained intact, namely JJ, but she wasn’t the same as she had been all those years ago. You let him take it from your hands, so he could look at it closer. He cleared his throat a little, though his voice still came out slightly raspy when he spoke, though he didn’t answer the question you had asked him,“It’s the only picture I ever had taken with Elle…”

“I know you guys were- close.” You didn’t ask your previous question again, sensing that it was still too much to talk about in specifics. What he was telling you right now was even more than what he told you, only telling you that she was his first, everything. Any supplemental information was from talking discreetly to JJ about it one night because you were somewhat curious.

Tiptoeing around the relationship you knew that they had previously was like walking through a minefield. You tried the best that you could to avoid making him too upset. When you got him to open up, it wasn’t by forcing him to talk all at once. Busting the wall down was done brick by brick, not all at once.

“I’m glad you aren’t jealous of her.” His comment was said with less sadness than before. It was nice to see a glimpse of the weight coming off of his shoulders, even if it was just for a moment.

“What? Do you want me to be jealous of her?” You teased, lightheartedly so he wouldn’t dwell on the sad aspect of their past relationship. He smiled softly which deepened when you playfully stuck your tongue out and crossed your arms.

“No- you’ve got nothing to be jealous about…” Any playfulness in his voice was erased as his sentence trailed off. You didn’t say anything for a moment in case he wanted to continue his thought. And, after a moment of silence he did, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left…”

“I know- I was just joking about being jealous. I know how much she meant to you…” His eyes moved away from you, at first you thought it might be because he was still feeling the pain of losing her all those years ago. But, there was something else in his eyes, it naturally made you curious, “What are you thinking about?”

“If you were jealous- what would you have done?” His mind must have shifted away from thinking about the ending of his memories with Elle, which was a step in the right direction. At least he wasn’t avoiding the topic all together, he was still talking about her in a sense.

You bit your lip, thinking about what direction you could take this in. You weren’t going to lie, your mind had gone straight into the gutter at his suggestion and by the look on Spencer’s face so had his.

“Hmmm…” You pretended to ponder while you moved from where you were sitting on the couch to sit on something better, Spencer’s lap. Straddling him then with ease you looked down at his face tracing his cheeks with your fingers. His pupils were blown wide now, almost completely devouring his iris that had become a small ring. He didn’t say anything yet, waiting for you to continue your thought obediently, “I think I would do things to you that I suspect she never did.”

He gulped hard, hard enough that you could hear it. You continued to trace your fingers along his face, sometimes picking a lock of his hair to twirl, waiting for him to say something else like you knew he wanted to. It only took a few more seconds of your touches and your eyes staring into his own before he asked, “C-Can you show me?”

You stopped your movements, pausing for dramatic effect before crushing his lips onto your own. He squared into your mouth at first, clearly taken off guard by your sudden kiss. Before he had processed what was going on enough to let you, you forced your tongue into his mouth, earning you a delicious moan from him.

When you moved again suddenly, separating your mouth with his for just a moment, he tried to chase your lips. Pushing a finger to his lips you then used that to push him back into the couch, then answering his question, “Gladly.”

You kept your finger on his mouth to seal them shut. He could have opened it easily to respond to you, but he wanted to see what you might do next.

Instead of going back to kissing him you started to pull his belt off of him. It was difficult with one hand, taking much longer than it would be with two. But, you still kept your finger rested in the position most people use to shush someone.

Once the belt had finally been pulled from the belt loops of his slacks you finally removed your finger from his mouth. He still remained quiet, his eyes following your every move intently. You then went to work, pinning his hands above his head, then beginning to restrain them with his belt.

“Did she do this to you?” Goading him while you looped the belt around his hands. You made sure to go as slow as possible while you restrained him just to make it last longer until you gave him what he wanted. You even began to grind down on his cock a little bit, it obviously ached to be free from its confines in his trousers by how strained the slacks were getting.

“No!” His voice was broken and breathy, exactly how you wanted it as you tightened the belt around his hand a little more.

Once you were satisfied that the belt was tight enough you got off of him to remove the shorts you had been wearing, along with the rest of your clothes. Normally when you were naked and Spencer was clothed it would be when you were underneath him as a sort of power play. In this position, where he couldn’t move without fear of consequences while you restraddled him completely naked was almost even more empowering.

To play with the dynamic even more you had him remain confined in his slacks for a while longer, while you touched yourself. You were already quite wet from seeing Spencer in this position and exerting that power by pumping your fingers in you while he could do nothing had you dripping onto his slacks.

Spencer’s jaw had gone slack while watching you moan above him, completely speechless from your actions. It was almost comical and entirely too easy to tease him about, “Close your mouth you might catch flies.” His mouth clenched shut at that. It soon fell slack again at your next words while you brought yourself closer to the edge with your fingers, “What? Did she never do this for you?”

All Spencer could do was sit there and take it, shaking his head side to side, only a little so he could keep his eyes on you. You decided to be merciful, pulling your fingers out of you just before you orgasmed. You wanted to finish at the same time as him anyway.

Finally, you pulled his aching cock out of his slacks. It was throbbing in your hand as you spread your wetness with the fingers that had been inside you. Because you had edged yourself earlier, you couldn’t take teasing him any longer. You lined the head of his cock that was red and weeping up to your entrance, sinking down as fast as you could take him. While you sunk down you rubbed your clit in slow circles, not enough to make you orgasm, but enough to make it easier to take him.

Once you had fully taken him you wasted no time, immediately beginning to build up a fast pace. And, of course you couldn’t help but goad him again,

“Did she make you feel this good?” Your pace you had chosen was rough, bouncing and rolling your hips with reckless abandon while he had to take it without being able to move. He could have thrusted up into you even without the use of his hands, but he had one too many of your punishments in the past to be willing to break the rules so explicitly. Now if he ever broke the rules now it was him subtly bending them. Though, you could tell by the way his eyes rolled back into his head that he had no intention of doing that tonight. It felt too good to be used like this by you.

He still had not answered you though, not on purpose, but you still needed an answer. Tapping his cheek a few times, just hard enough to get his attention. It caused him to whine, but he still didn’t give you an answer. Since that didn’t work you decided to ask again, “I asked you a question. Did she make you feel this good? Did she use you like this?”

To add an extra edge to your words filled with a deadly tone you reached one of your hands forward to grasp around his neck. To make him look at you directly you forcefully tilted his neck, eyes once again trained on yours. He finally found it in himself to answer, “It felt good with her, but it feels best with you! I love you!”

“Good.” You simply stated and dropped your hold on his neck so you could return it to its place on his chest, using it as leverage to help you continue your fast pace. Your orgasm was fast approaching, his cock hitting you in the perfect spot, all you needed was a bit more stimulation. When you brought your hand down to run fast circles onto your clit, you soon fell apart above him. Spencer couldn’t help but look up at you in awe, speechless at how beautiful you look while you writhed on top of him.

Your own release pushed Spencer close to the edge and he started to beg, “I’m gonna cum! Please, can I?”

His hands had tightened into fists above him, knuckles going white over the effort of keeping them right where you had placed them originally. You were pleased with the way he had begged, glad that he had asked permission before even thinking about cumming. You still left him in suspense for a bit longer as you continued to work yourself on his painfully hard cock. Pressing a few kisses to his exposed skin under his collar was admittedly just to torture him a bit longer before you finally gave the command.

“Cum for me then.” Spencer followed your command eagerly, taking only two more of you bouncing on top of him to release inside you with a groan. While he rode out his release his lips captured around one of your pebbled peaks, sucking hard to get one last moan out of you.

Slumping forward after you had both finished and you had taken the belt off his wrists with the promise you’d lotion them up after you cuddled. You rested your head on his shoulder, wanting to stay as close as possible for a little while longer. He started tracing his fingers up and down your spine, relaxing you even further, almost to the point of falling asleep.

Before your eyes closed shut in post coital sleepiness your mind wandered a bit back to Elle. Elle had been an important figure in his life, his first real connection with someone special. Sure you teased about being jealous, but you thought it was important to tell him that you were ok with him thinking back on her. You knew he loved you. It most likely would take time till he was able to think or talk about her without a sharp pain in his chest, reminding him of how it all ended.

He hadn’t told you exactly what had happened, but it wasn’t hard to fill in all of the gaps. You turned your head, eyelashes fluttering when you nuzzled into his hair. Then you spoke quietly just enough so the sound could travel the short distance to his ear, “You should frame the picture, you look cute in it. And, I meant to say it earlier, I love you too.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #30 fics in 30 days

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beauty-and-passion · 3 years

Text

A (not so) brief post about my favourite Sanders Sides ships

It all started with this ask:

I just wanted to write a short answer, I swear. Just a short answer with a tiny little explanation about why I like these ships in particular.

But then I got a bit carried away, my explanations became longer and so here I am, writing a full post.

One small clarification before starting: ships don’t have a place in my analyses. If I talk about connections between Sides, these connections are always in terms of friendships, cooperation or familial relationships. The romantic aspect is something different and I may joke about it sometimes, but it’s just a joke.

There is a time and space for romantic relationships - and it looks like that time has come.

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Janus and Patton

I've always liked the canonical ship, in (almost) every fandom. So of course I like the canonical ship of this fandom as well :P

Jokes aside, this ship is incredibly mature, very interesting and terribly hard to talk about. The nature of these two characters, their roles and the episodes that had them involved proved how these two speak the same language, work in the same field and, ultimately, need each other.

* More similar that we think

If we look at them on a superficial level, Janus and Patton are completely opposites: one is cynical and cold, the other is a ball of sunshine. One is dark and suave, the other is goofy and bright. Janus' moral is "step on others and only care about yourself", Patton's moral is "help others because they are more important than you".

These differences became clearer over time, the more we learned about Janus and compared him with Patton. However, along these differences, some similarities started to emerge. Some qualities.

Janus and Patton want what's good for Thomas. They are humble enough to recognize their mistakes (the latest example was POF). They have a strong empathy. They’re kind. They’re mature adults (even if Patton doesn’t show it too often). And they both love and use puns.

But that’s not all. Along with these qualities, we found out that these two have similar flaws: they are both liars. They are incredibly persuasive to the point of manipulation. They have a huge influence over the mind (and the other Sides). They both deal with denial.

And this isn't just important, but it's a fundamental point for their character growth. Why? Because if they have similar flaws, if they are both liars and manipulators, then they cannot deceive each other.

And this is HUGE, especially for Patton! By his own admission, Patton lied multiple times, especially about his feelings (the Nostalgia episodes) and his thoughts (the most recent wedding/callback saga).

He always got away with it, because he was lying to other Sides and Thomas. But what would the point be, to lie to the literal embodiment of lies? Janus already knows what of his words are lies and what not, so it would be absolutely useless to do it.

Therefore, if Patton cannot lie to Janus, he cannot pretend everything is alright when it's not or hide his thoughts on a certain topic. He cannot shift the attention somewhere else or let a conversation drop. That means Patton cannot avoid confrontation about his thoughts/feelings and oh boy if he really needs to talk about them - especially with someone mature like Janus.

And yes, having someone who is able to see past your lies means being a lot vulnerable... but also a lot freerer. With Janus, Patton won’t have to pretend to be the strongest one: he can allow himself to be weak and confused, because if he doesn’t have an answer or if the weight of decisions is too much to carry, he has Janus with whom he can share it.

* A foundation of mutual respect

This point has never been fully addressed, but it was very well implied by their words/behaviours since Janus’ first appearance.

The first proof we have is CLBG: after Deceit revealed himself and disappeared, all the Sides and Thomas went through various degrees of shock, frustration and anger. Patton, on the other hand, was the only one who showed a pretty calm demeanor.

He should've been the angriest, considering that Janus took HIS place and pretended to be HIM the whole time. And yet, not only Patton didn't show any resentment, but he didn't talk bad about Janus (even if he had all the reasons to) and he even justified the other Side’s actions to Thomas:

[Patton]: Kiddo, simply put, Deceit is an inner coach that acts with the one intention of self-preservation.

Patton could’ve said anything, to make Janus appear as the worst. And his words could've had a lot of influence on Thomas, considering they were coming from his heart.

However, Patton didn't say anything too bad about Janus - not even in the following episodes.

Then we reach POF: Patton's monologue about his morals went so dramatically bad, he turned into a giant frog with abs and Janus had to sweep in to save Thomas.

In that moment, he could've said ANYTHING to make Patton appear as the worst Side ever. He had his chance on a silver plate: Patton was wrong, he had been wrong the whole time, he was literally ready to fight Thomas.

And yet, Janus took Patton's defense:

[Deceit]: He didn't mislead you on purpose, Thomas. I don't think the little guy... or... the big frog is capable of that sort of thing.

In addition to that, let’s consider Janus' whole attitude towards Patton in SvS: he basically spent an entire episode trying to make Patton understand his point.

[Deceit]: You can defend him all you like... But you can't change the facts. Is Thomas an innocent little lamb? Let's let them be the judge of that.

Why did he insist so much on this? Why not tricking Patton like he did with Roman or ignoring him like he did with Logan?

Because Janus knows how important Patton's role is and his whole behaviour shows respect towards the other Side. Unlike the others, who tend to diminish/forget Patton’s importance, Janus never did and always tried to reach him in the most honest, difficult way: through dialogue and confrontation.

And when he failed, instead of disregarding Patton’s importance, he just kept trying again, until his message finally reached the other Side.

* The perfect working partner

POF proved Patton can't bear the weight of the decision-making process all by himself. He needs another Side who can help him and Janus perfectly fills this role.

But why Janus? Why not Logan? Logan is a very mature Side, he can deal with a lot of stress, he's extremely organized and knows a lot. Surely he can help Patton with the decision-making process, right?

Not exactly. For his own admission, morals and ethics are not Logan's area of expertise (as it should be: logic can’t be influenced by what’s considered “good” or “bad”: logic is neutral). Secondly, Logic isn't an emotional-driven Side: logic is way less affected by emotions than other Sides - especially compared to Patton, who is the embodiment of emotions.

What Patton needs is a mature Side with a grey mentality, humble enough to respect him/not diminish his role, from his same area of expertise and enough emotional-driven to connect with him on an emotional/empathetic level.

And Janus is the only one who fills all those points. Even the latter, as we saw in the last part of POF:

[Patton]: Janus... Do you think there's a limit... on how many times someone can say sorry... before you have to admit... that they're just bad for you? [Janus]: Oh, definitely not. I'd love for someone to ruin Thomas' entire life one apology at a time. [Patton]: Okay. [Janus]: (After seeing Patton's reaction)The reality is that... it depends.

Janus' answer changed, the moment he realized Patton didn't get his sarcasm, by switching from ironic to honest. This is the kind of emotional connection Patton needs, something that doesn’t require words, but a small gesture that says more than a thousand words (yes, I’m also talking about that gaze and the small nod in the end card).

If we add to all of that the detail that Janus can nullify Patton's excuses and see past his lies, we have the perfect partner to help him grow up.

But this cooperation isn’t just one-sided: Janus needs Patton just as much as Patton needs him.

Why? First of all, to have a seat at the table. After years hiding, Janus can finally talk to Thomas, introduce his cynical mentality, make Thomas a little more selfish and help him grow up.

Secondly, by cooperating with Patton, Janus will become a better Side: he will learn to compromise, to work together and, most importantly, to trust Patton. And this is a particularly important point because, as I said in my analysis of POF, Janus isn’t used to trust others and he doesn’t want them to see past his barriers. Working with Patton might be exactly what he needs to trust the other Sides and lower these barriers, even a tiny bit.

* The romantic possibility

Considering all of the above points, the idea that their cooperation could evolve into something romantic-driven isn't so strange. The elements are all here, there's nothing weird to add nor need to bend canon, in order to make the ship happen. Their mutual acceptance can easily become need, learning more about each other can easily evolve into desiring each other and friendship could grow into passion.

And, of course, let's not forget marriage. These two can only end up in marriage. I mean, one is a dad, the other is a mom witch, so they are a perfect match XD

My point is: this ship isn't just a “cute couple being cute”. It's about dialogues. Conversations about themselves, their different points of view, their morals, their cooperation, how to help Thomas and the other Sides. It's based on listening to each other, on knowing each other a little more every day. On being silly together, working and failing together, going down and getting up, because there is someone by your side to lend a helping hand.

This is what makes Janus and Patton the most realistic, mature couple. And that's probably why it's so hard to perfectly nail it.

______________________________

Logan and Remus

Here it is, the couple that blew up after one episode and was confirmed in the most recent Aside.

But seriously, these two have a huge potential - first as friends/working partners, then as romantic partners. Logan and Remus need each other and the reasons are pretty clear:

- Having an interlocutor

Remus is Unleashed Creativity, a volcano of ideas in constant need of new stimuli, no matter if they are considered good or bad. After all "good and bad are all made up nonsense", as he said.

Logan is a walking encyclopedia in search of someone who wants to listen to him. He's pure, undiluted knowledge because that's what logic should be. No morals about what's good and what's bad, no emotions, nothing but neutral knowledge.

Considering that, it’s pretty clear these two have to come into contact. But what would they gain?

Well, Remus would have the stimuli he desperately craves. And Logan?

Logan would gain an incredibly smart interlocutor. And I’m not saying it because I am biased towards Remus, but because the canonical episodes showed us how smart he is. In both DWIT and WTIT Remus proved to be a quick thinker, with a sharp intellect and an even sharper eye. He's silly and over the top, but he's not an idiot and he uses everything he has for his own creative needs, no matter how small it is.

Just imagine this cleverness applied to everything Logan might say to him. Remus wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from it, but the whole creative process and, ultimately, Thomas himself, who will have better, richer ideas.

- Gaining a place

At this moment in time (just after WTIT) Remus has not been fully accepted yet. He is tolerated and his presence is a nuisance, but he’s neither wanted, nor banished. He’s just here and he has no voice on any matter.

Also because no one wants to give him a chance to prove how useful and worthy he can be. Thomas barely tolerates him, Patton does his best to ignore him, Roman doesn’t even want to see him and Virgil would rather not have any of the Others present.

The only Core Side who accepts Remus’ presence and is willing to give him a chance is Logan. He spent the entire DWIT to explain why Remus is useful for Thomas and shouldn’t be ignored, while in WTIT, he said: "There will be a time and place for you" - thus implying that, one day, Remus will finally be able to show how worthy he can be.

This is exactly what Remus needs: a Core Side who doesn’t see him as a nuisance or a villain, but as a fundamental part of Thomas that can be helpful, in his own way. Someone willing to give him a seat at the table (at least in the future). And, most importantly, someone who is powerful enough to control him.

Remus is and will always be a force of nature. He will never rest or stop being chaotic. This is why he needs someone strong by his side, someone who can’t be overcomed by his dark thoughts and that can put him back on track if necessary. And Logan proved to be perfect for this role not once, but twice.

- Understanding on a deeper level

However this cooperation won’t be beneficial just for Remus. As I said before, Remus could be a clever interlocutor for Logan. And this cleverness isn’t just related to creativity, but also to emotional understanding.

The Core Sides have known Logan for almost thirty years and yet, they have no idea of the inner turmoil raging inside him. They keep ignoring and dismissing him, clearly thinking everything is fine.

It took Remus one single day to realize what Logan’s problem is, how deeply frustrated he is and how much he’s actually angry at Thomas. Less than 24 hours and Remus knows Logan better than his long time friends.

That’s exactly what Logan needs. Someone sharp enough to notice his behaviour, find out the root of the problem and make Logan face it, instead of dismissing it because who cares (yes, Roman, I am talking about you and your “You'll be fine, Rome didn't fall in a day.”)

- The romantic possibility

I think almost all the fandom agrees that these two would have a great sex life. After all, Remus is the embodiment of Thomas' sexual urges, so he would definitely go for a very physical relationship.

But having a good sex life implies a lot of other great things: good chemistry, no comunication issues, great stability and greater trust. And, even more important, the desire to try new things together. Logan and Remus are both very curious Sides, they both want to know new things and experience them: so their relationship would probably be based on discussing new ideas, testing them and finding out together if they are good or not.

And this doesn't apply to just the sexual aspect: even just the romantic aspect or the working aspect of their relationship could have these characteristics. Logan and Remus can motivate each other, learn from one another and find new things together. They are clever enough to stimulate each other's mind, curious enough to do stuff together to learn something new and honest enough to not withdraw their opinions on any matter.

______________________________

Roman and Virgil

I am just recently starting to warm up to this couple, so I will keep this part short.

Just as it was for the previous two couples, these two can work together because canon made them work. The first part of their whole relationship is already all canonically established: at first Roman saw Virgil as a villain, then he slowly realized he could be a friend. Now moving from friends to lovers isn’t so difficult.

^ No need to demonstrate

Roman needs someone like Virgil, because Virgil is on his same level. Sure, Virgil’s mentality is way more gray-ish, but he still has a lot to learn, just like Roman.

Having someone on his side, who is on his same level is a huge relief: with Virgil, Roman doesn't have to pretend, nor to show off, nor to be dashing and perfect all the time. He knows Virgil won't care less, so he can relax. And for someone who is used to working all the time, having a moment of quiet with someone who has zero espectations is exactly what Roman needs.

Same goes for Virgil: he knows Roman won't care if he's gloomy and dark, because Roman already saw that side of him and appreciates him anyway. So no need to pretend to be different. He can relax too. And, because of his anxious nature, relaxing is exactly what he also needs.

So if they both need to relax, that implies they also need time to do it. And without expectations, without feeling like the other “is better than me and I’m slowing him down”, they can really take all the time they need, to grow at their own pace.

^ Growing together

Virgil and Roman’s is not a one-sided relationship, in which one knows more than the other and helps the other reach his level: since they are on the same level, if one of them learns something new, then it’s a victory for them both, because the other will be motivated to do more/learn more as well.

This isn’t just something I think, but something we saw in canon. During AA-part 2, Roman clearly stated that Virgil “make us... better”, thus implying that Virgil acted as a motivator for him.

Then we had FWSA and here we saw this sentence applied the other way around: Roman was the motivator and, thanks to him, Virgil overcame his own anxiety to push Thomas towards Nico. The final result was a victory for them both: Roman got the romance he’s desperately craving, Virgil found out a new aspect of himself: his bravery.

^ The romantic possibility

These two are a walking “enemies to friends to lovers” trope, so I don’t think there’s anything else to add XD

Only that they would both be quite passionate. One is Thomas’ romantic side, the other is heavily influenced by emotions: if the good one takes Virgil, he would probably be a very passionate partner.

______________________________

Two couples I understand

Janus and Remus -> I understand the appeal of this one and it would kinda make sense, especially from Remus’ point of view. Remus has (probably) sexual fantasies about anything, so I wouldn't be too surprised if he has a whole collection of sexual fantasies about the Side who is closest to him.

But also, I see them too much like father and son/bestest friends to imagine them having a romantic relationship.

So my take is more like that: Remus has sexual fantasies about Janus, just like he has sexual fantasies about anyone. They are his way to show his affection, how much he cares about Janus and wants to protect him.

But Remus is Remus and he's prone to lose control. That's why, since he reached adolescence and started to develop the sexual aspect, Janus put clear limits that give Remus enough space to express his fantasies, but never past a certain point.

So Remus can be very touchy (because, well, he's Remus) and extremely physical in showing his affections, but never go below a certain point. He can talk in full details about all his sexual fantasies to Janus, but never try to sexually force him. He can try to seduce him or propose sexual things, but never pretend he will accept.

And so, over time, it became a sort of internal joke between them: Remus tells his fantasies at the breakfast table, while Janus rolls his eyes with a "very interesting", they have a laugh, they keep going with their day. Remus wants to cuddle, Janus will cuddle. Remus proposes sex, Janus will just laugh and give him a forehead kiss.

In other words, they are the kind of friends who you can find sprawled on a couch, one on top of the other and imagine they're a couple, while that's just how they read a book together.

Logan and Roman -> This couple isn’t bad at all and I really like the idea of these two having a sorta-romantic crush on each other. It can lead to a lot of poetic/romantic possibilities.

The only problem is: Logan is logic, therefore he would destroy all the romance with one sentence XD and the romantic, poetic scene evoked would turn into these two arguing like madmen.

So, well, maybe the hate-sex would be great, but they would definitely spend too much time arguing. Still, I am very curious about it, so I will keep searching for stuff about them.

#sanders sides ships #sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #moceit #intrulogical #prinxiety #and a sprinkle of #dukeceit #logince #I know I have pretty basic tastes #it takes me a lot to warm to a couple #I blame the fandom for making these so appealing #i couldn't help myself

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