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nichenarratives · 8 months

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Hurricane Heller 4

A Niche Narratives Fanficiton

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4. Bar Mitzvah'd

Mordecai doesn't enjoy his bar mitzvah, not because he has to share it with his sister, not due to the heavy loss clouding his mother's joy, not even with the distraction of his sore lip and the worry of missing two days' wages. He doesn't enjoy the event for one reason alone; he's the focal point of the entire congregation, in the spotlight. Something he loathes.

Given the current shaky state of their work relationship and the more personal nature of his request, he'd elected to go straight to Mr Fiores to secure time off that Saturday and Sabbath. The underboss was surprisingly agreeable to the request for unpaid leave, even if it came with mocking his beliefs. He'd simply thanked the man and left before clauses could be added, grateful to attend his sister's aliyah the night before his own.

Thankfully, no one openly commented on his scabbing lip, but it throbs throughout the whole service, a potent reminder that actions could include dire consequences, if not treated with the proper reverence.

The letter opener remained in his pocket for the service too, as it had in his suit jacket for the last four days. Its presence serves as a constant reminder of the danger he is in, of the threat to his life and those he cares for, should he misstep. It rests directly over his heart in an internal pocket, in case he ever has to act on his or their behalf in an instant.

Aliyah reading over and returned to his mother's side, who beamed with joy despite heavy tears welling in her eyes, the adolescent's mind returned to more pressing matters. Namely, Jimbo's utter destruction.

His last two days at the tracks were hell. Jimbo had made it a mission to insult, victimize, blame and otherwise interfere with Mordecai and his work to the point of blatant sabotage. Unattended ledgers went missing or had pages ripped out; someone pickpocketed his coin purse twice in one day; and numerous bets were falsely invalidated on winning horses.

In addition, the man also managed to get a number of other hires to assist with his agenda, or at least clued them in on the occupational torture. They're far less subtle than their boss though, actively snickering at his expense when his satchel was filled with manure, or when he had to rewrite an entire ledger for the week from memory.

Jimbo also became aggressively hostile those two days; an increase in the use of antisemitic slurs or 'boy' instead of his name; cutting him off mid-sentence; or ignoring him entirely we're the main culprits. Taking every minuscule opportunity to 'accidentally' smack the sore spot on the back of his head as discipline came a close second, likely awarding himself bonus points if Mordecai hissed in pain.

Fortunately for Mordecai, the man is also not the smartest of men, which meant he didn't consider the consequences of his actions. This provides Mordecai with a much needed opportunity to deal with Jimbo without having to get his hands dirty, beyond some lead.

As expected of middle managers, Jimbo is exceedingly lazy, handing off as much work as possible to underlings while he relaxed or socialized with punters. Previously, this work had been spread amongst trusted employees, but trying to make Mordecai's life difficult culminated in most of these duties being added to the adolescent's roster instead.

These personal assignments were ones that dealt with more than punter money. In just two days, Mordecai has juggled an assortment of managerial tasks like track maintenance, filling the stables, keeping track of inventory and sales figures, even ordering stock for drinks and refreshments. It's intense data, but moreover, money a bookie shouldn't have utility over.

A wise man might have simply taken the abuse and waited for it to subside, perhaps sought the help of a senior in a legitimate company. Neither is an option for Mordecai, who lacks both the means and experience to request help. Not that he needs assistance; their hatred feeds a precise, methodical revenge already brewing as the prayers come to an end and the congregation heads to the reception hall to celebrate his adulthood.

Ideally, Mordecai hopes to avoid using violence entirely. If it weren't already painfully obvious by his lip and head injuries, the tuxedo doesn't know how to handle himself in a fight. Impoverished and undernourished, he's a thin man with more bones than muscle beneath his carefully tailored image. The little knife is a last resort, one he hopes never to need, because it'll probably end in death.

So rather than attempt a scuffle, he's tackling the issue in his own way; with order, precision and math.

Mordecai has kept meticulous records of extracurricular jobs for the last few days, specifically: what each entailed; when they were assigned; how long each took; if they interfered with his duties as a bookie; projected losses based on these days and of course; duplicate copies - from memory - of any ledgers he shouldn't have been privy to, including stock and purchasing orders he signed off.

Disinterested in the post-prayer celebrations, Mordecai sits in a quiet corner of the room adding to his notes on Jimbo's ineffective management. It isn't enough to prove the man is a schmendrick taking advantage of the mob's disconnected hierarchical system. No, to protect himself and his family, Mordecai needs to make him look inept and detrimental to the organization as a whole.

With access to the books and careful planning, the tuxedo is certain that can be achieved. He simply needs some time, a few more important ledgers to study, and a convincing poker face. So long as he continues to tolerate Jimbo's vendetta, the schmuck will willingly throw everything Mordecai needs into his lap. Then, a little creative editing will seal the distasteful man's fate.

"You bleed."

Once again too focused on something to take notice of his surroundings, he jerks in surprise, tail fluffing up and irises blowing wide as he simultaneously slams his notebook shut and snaps his gaze to the newcomer. The girl he's met with isn't familiar; about his age, an unusual gray-silver pelt with thick, black hair neatly braided down her back, though a few stands seem to have been worked free to frame her face.

Yellow eyes blink innocently, hands clasped in front of her stomach over a dusky, wine red dress with a black sash around her waist. None of those observations are useful. Irritated that her presence highlighted his lack of awareness, he furrows his brows and sets his jaw. "Can I assist you, somehow?"

The girl suddenly leans in close and almost irrationally, he's reaching for the letter opener, the memory of being taken by surprise overriding common sense until ever so gently, she dabs at his lip with her handkerchief. The raw contact hurts and he flinches, but as fast as she leant in she pulls back again, the handkerchief she holds out spotted with red. "You bleed. Take."

Untrusting eyes move between the handkerchief and gentle yellows, even as she smiles and offers it to him again with a slight shift of her wrist. Tentatively, Mordecai takes the small square of folded white fabric and presses it to his lip, trying not to let the renewed flash of pain show on his face. A few blots, and it seems to stop bleeding again, though he's now ruined the young woman's handkerchief.

"Thank you," he manages to mutter, folding the square even smaller to hide the blood, though unsure of the etiquette of dirtying another's pocket square he holds onto it. Aware she lingers there, he offers a fleeting sideways glance then digs out his own handkerchief, offering it simultaneously without making eye contact and feeling idiotic. "Here. In case you require one later."

She doesn't hesitate as long to take his offering, tucking it into a sleeve for safe keeping. Mordecai expects her to turn around and return to the dancefloor and readies to return to his notes, only to tense up when the girl instead sits beside him on the bench. Wide eyes stay trained on his shoes as he scoots just a little further away from the stranger, not at all sure what to say or do in this situation.

Beside him, the girl just smiles, leaning forward a bit to see his face. Mordecai doubles down on being entirely awkward and leans oddly forward to thwart it, almost bending double on the bench. The girl giggles softly, then straightens up, the momentum bringing her braid over a shoulder. "Mazel tov."

The phrase relaxes Mordecai a little. It's one he's gotten a hundred times this afternoon, congratulating him on his bar mitzvah. The girl is trying to be friendly, likely a new member of the congregation, and a party is an efficient time to make connections even if she can't tell he's unsociable. He forces an awkward, toothy smile to be polite and nods in thanks. "Todah."

It seems to work; she looks pleased, though she doesn't get up to go, instead patting her chest and adding: "Nataliya."

Social interactions are not Mordecai's forté. While he might be comfortable enough around his family or force himself to make polite conversation as required when working, he isn't the type to seek out and engage strangers. Much like his father - who usually required prodding to greet the Rabbi - he prefers the company of knowledge and his own thoughts.

As such, It takes his reclusive brain too long to notice she's introduced herself and is patiently waiting for his reply. The realisation hits suddenly; his ears flicker back up as the tom breathes a quiet oh, then he clears his throat and offers her the same courtesy. "Mordecai."

She seems satisfied with his answer, smiling and nodding, still expectantly holding his gaze. Mordecai takes the time to study her properly, noting a thick pelt he's not seen before in New York. Her dress seems to be of satin or silk, flowing like water over her slim frame. Expensive, he muses as his gaze returns to fluffy whiskers that make her face look oval, like a doll, so out of place amongst a congregation of shorthair or broken coats. Foreign? Did she have an accent? I don't recall.

Nataliya giggles again, seemingly entertained by his silence. For the monochromatic tom, it's enough to realise he's been staring at her for far too long and he turns away swiftly, his claws digging into his pants to ground the embarrassment that rears its ugly head. Staring is rude, he's found out while learning to navigate social norms. Thank HaShem mother didn't witness it, or his sore head would've known about it.

Silence stretches between them. Mordecai kneads his legs and stares at a wall as an unfamiliar panic creeps up his spine, one he can't identify. It's unlike the anxiety work creates, or the fear that chilled his blood when he was assaulted. Instead, it's a lingering tingle that slides along every nerve until even his eyes struggle to focus. He honestly wonders if he's falling ill.

Suddenly, his internal debate is abruptly disrupted as Esther plops down between them with a dramatic sigh, leaning up against the wall. Mordecai glares at his sister, for even if she disturbed an uncomfortable situation, he doesn't appreciate her proximity or the sweat flicked from her brow. The panic averted, he flicks his tail and scoots further away, leaving the girls to talk.

"Phew! What a party!" Esther exclaims, tilting her head on the wall to address Nataliya. "Are you having a good time?" Mordecai sees the silvery feline smile and nod assuringly in his peripheral vision. Rolling his eyes at the idiocratic small talk, he stoops to retrieve his notebook, but pauses as his sister continues. "That's good. Is Mordy ignoring you? D'you want me to make mother make him ask to dance? He won't ask unless he's forced to because he can't. Dance, that is."

"Stop it," he hisses between clenched teeth, but she waves it off without glancing at him, her focus entirely on the new girl. His hackles bristle under his collar. "Esther. Go away."

"Though he's so polite, he wouldn't refuse if you asked him," Esther adds, a sly glance over her shoulder. Mordecai goes stiff, ears reclined, a sudden flux of the confusing fear from earlier returning. Esther's smile widens for just a second in triumph before she abruptly pushes back to her feet. "Well, I've got more dancing to do! Have a good night!"

Body frozen in place, Mordecai watches his conniving sister rejoin the group, slipping seamlessly into the line dance as it limbos around the dancefloor. Before he can begin planning an adequate revenge however, Nataliya is also on her feet and offering him a hand, yellow eyes glancing towards the jovial celebration behind her before meeting his dazed gaze. "Tantsn?"

Stuck between a wall and Freylekh, Mordecai silently curses his sister's observational skills. With barely a year between them, Esther is the sibling he most relates with, but it means she also has a uniquely intimate and often accurate idea of how he functions. To refuse a dance at his own bar mitzvah would reflect poorly on his parents, and not about to let the entire congregation judge his mother harshly for his choices, he hesitantly takes the proffered hand and stands.

Apparently enthused by his acceptance, Nataliya pulls the uncoordinated tom into the throng of dancers, bypassing the perimeter line to the enclosed center, where numerous pairs of dancers have already begun their own choreography. In an attempt to appear unphased, Mordecai takes a moment to straighten his tie, unwittingly drawing another laugh from his dance partner before she takes his hands in hers.

Seemingly prepared to take the lead, she draws Mordecai into a simple but repetitive freestyle, her rapid steps in time with the music beat. His own attempts are far less graceful, but he does at least manage to mimic her arm motions, his brows creased with concentration and back inflexible, entire focus on not making a fool of himself - even though he most certainly looks out of place.

His humiliation is short lived. Within a single song length, his reconnection with festivities expedites the beginning of the hora, whereupon Mordecai is given no choice but to sit in an assigned chair. Nataliya holds on until he's hoisted out of reach, then shyly waves as he's raised above the crowd by the congregation. Esther giggles and claps along to the beat in her own chair, soaking up the attention as they're paraded around, while Mordecai clings to his chair for dear life.

Whenever he spots Nataliya in the horde below, she smiles and waves shyly. Despite initial reservations, the tom manages a tentative wave sometimes, because while she might still be a stranger, having a face to seek in the crowd helps Mordecai stay composed and - for one night, at least - forget that the sun will still set, and life will continue unchanged, regardless of his sentiments.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy mordecai #mordecai heller #fanfiction #no beta we die like atlas may #fanfic #hurricane heller #tracy j butler #angst #hurricane heller chapter 4 #1920s #bar mitzvah #niche narratives

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saebeau · 5 months

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Hey guys. I'm back!

(Please, if you find any errors in the writing, I'm sorry, English is not my first language, I'm still learning and I'm definitely not going to go through Google Tanslate because GT is shit that I don't trust.)

So, we come to the end. I am so saaaaad. Well, my last post about Perfect Marriage Revenge got a lot of likes and reposts, so first off, thank you very much, I'm really surprised it was somewhat popular!

Then, as expected, some people asked me to do another post with more backstory and canon facts from the novel and webtoon.

So here I am. This will be long, be ready.

To differentiate from the previous one, in this post I will add the backstory, trivia and facts of all the main leads like some of the ones highlighted in some eps. Of course, i am also giving my very personal opinions.

!!!SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

1 - Yi Joo.

• She was adopted by Mr. Han FIRST WIFE. Yes, before marrying Jung Hye he had an official wife chosen by his family. Somehow this lady found out about Yi Joo and brought her home and this lady treats her well. Mrs. Han also knew about Mr. Han's affair with Jung Hye.

• Yi Joo for almost 15 years believed that Mrs. Han was the one who poisoned her with the macaron, but still grieved her death. The reason: she had memory loss! And in the “broken” glimpses she had she saw the “mother’s” figure appearing above that of Jung Hye who was in her house at that moment.

• She was a very lonely person throughout her life (+ in Yoo Ra's post), so her personality diverges from the drama. Novel|Webtoon she has a more serious, direct and insightful approach to people, she is kind and generous (much more confident!), but not as “naive” as in the drama. I can tell she is antisocial. She also didn't like being touched. Growing up, Yi Joo knew Jung Hye and Yoo Ra's true side very well and stayed away as much as possible (her marriage was a pass for that), she tried to at least stay close to her father, but he's an idiot, So, yes, no.

• Regarding her death, explaining the accident itself went like this: Yi Joo was hit by Do Guk's car, and Do Guk's car was hit by none other than Secretary Kim Jae Won's car right on the driver's side! YES! All of them at the same time, like, what the fuck!?

• EXTRA • I already explained a little about her relationship with Se Hyeok so just to be sure: Yi Joo wanted a family, a real family and Se Hyeok was chosen, obviously (he was her closest friend and now her husband) she I trusted and cared for him (apparently, him too), so it was perfect. But Yi Joo just wasn't ready to have any involvement like that (with anyone), she had a lot of trauma to deal with before starting any plan, she didn't have any feelings for him, never had, never expected but a couple hopes to have a child one day, so Yi Joo was taking her time, even with her mother-in-law being shitty. (+ in the Se Hyeok Family post.)

2 - Do Guk.

• In the novel | webtoon he is much more playful and funny. He is also good at seducing (Exclusive Yi Joo), even though he has “castrated” and “monk” as his nicknames. The women in his office are always trying to get his attention because he is super kind but still very difficult to approach. Do Guks is absolutely a pleaser for Yi Joo, he compliments and hype her up any time, anywhere, making Yi Joo very flustered.

• He is very traumatized by the accident with his brother Jung Wook, it was more detailed in the novel/webtoon; the two obviously had a fight, Jung Wook hurt his leg on the edge of the ship and fell but Do Guk also fell and almost died too! But his father, (that idiot) cared more about the boy who no longer had his mother instead of just taking care of both of them equally, so this only made Jung Wook more confident with his lame excuses and Do Guk more distant from his family , especially his father, since almost everyone thought he pushed Jung Wook, leaving him permanently disabled.

• Do Guk has a closer relationship with his sister than the drama lets on. She is always supporting him and giving him encouragement whenever he needs it. They're always joking or fighting with each other and at the same time they can have really deep conversations, like, super brother energy. After he marries Yi Joo, it seems they become even closer.

• I love how much he is like his mother in many ways: they are both very honest, understanding, never judge and fully embrace a person in need. He also has her smart and cunning side! He loves his family, that's clear, but he just can't stand the fact that no one believed in him and that's a thorn in his heart. Tru, in the middle of the novel, he starts to have more contact with his parents because of Yi Joo's family mess, they get closer and develop a better relationship after putting their cards on the table, especially because Jung Wook is with more and more reckless and Mr. Seo is "getting it" now.

• EXTRA • Many of you are curious to know how Do Guk met Yi Joo before the accident and was already in love at the time. Well, in the Novel, he was at a business party when he went out to the balcony to get some fresh air, and there was Yi Joo, in a beautiful white dress crying silently to herself. Yup, love at first sight. Very Do Guk thing.

3 - Yi Joo | Do Guk as a couple.

• Much of their relationship is portrayed very well in the drama. But I'm still sad because they took a lot out of the final script. They have many scenes, including some "steamy" ones that would make your screens shake!

• We absolutely know that they did the “deed” a lot. With Yi Joo initiating some of them on the novel. Speaking of intimacy, I understand that some of you were not satisfied with the reasons that led you to the first time, but personally, I like the meaning it has; Neither Yi Joo nor Do Guk knew how to fully express their feelings that time. It was too much for both of them. But one thing they knew is that Do Guk loves her and she is heartbroken and they wanted to make that clear, ease their feelings and comfort each other. In the Webtoon/Novel it is more romantic, more fluid and happened at the moment of realization and acceptance of Yi Joo's feelings for Do Guk.

• Do Guk and Yi Joo have great harmony, they embrace each other's desires, feelings and flaws so much that it makes every person around them "see" how much they love each other. This becomes clearer if you read the novel. Through their plans, they are very reassuring, supportive and loving at the same time as they carry many hesitations and fears for each other's lives, even more so after discovering that they both went back in time and she became pregnant.

• EXTRA • Do Guk proposes to Yi Joo again after they slept together and confess their feelings for each other some time later. He takes her to an amusement park, even though her fear increases a little. In the afternoon, when they are leaving, he stops her and confesses again and offers her a new ring and asks for her hand again. This represents their true beginning, now together. +EXTRA • THEY HAVE TWIN SONS AND A DAUGHTER. ♡♡♡

4 – Jung Hye (stepmother)

• She's a bitch. She is greedy, nasty and a liar. To be honest, there isn't much to say about her. Do you see the drama? She's almost the same. Starting with the comparisons, in the Webtoon / Novel she is not as elegant, to say the opposite, she is much more theatrical, she has a very expressive face but easily loses her composure when her mask is being ripped off.

• On Webtoon | In the novel (drama too) Jung Hye makes her presence felt by being a calculating person, she is manipulative and is very good at leading people the way she wants. One of the differences in the drama is that Jung Hye always knew that Yi Joo was the biological daughter, but never thought that Yi Joo would find out, especially after years of torture and psychological abuse, repeatedly remembering the fact that she is a stranger and no one would never be by her side. Mr. Han's constant alienation to his daughter's situation was all Jung Hye needed.

• All her life she lied and stole from men for her own gains and destroyed their lives. I don't believe Jung Hye has that backstory, she's just sadistic and selfish. I also don't believe they will put Jung Hye's past cruelties on screen, and I believe, she has done some bad things. One of them is related to Secretary Kim, so be prepared for that. (+ at secretary Kim Post)

• EXTRA • I could feign some merit for her character if she had any, but she's the villain; that's what she was made for, being evil and cruel in particular, she herself has no reasonable "reason" for being that way. She might have had a difficult childhood, neglectful parents or abuse and things like that, but none of that "explains" the things she did to Yi Joo.

5 - Yoo Ra

• So, this bish right here. How can i explain this pathetic spoiled nasty girl?! Yoo Ra is selfish and jealous, we know that many of it was lead after many years of her mother manupulation, (you can see on the last episodes) that's f*cked up and sad at the same time. She's being raised by the evil itself and this evil is her mother, the only person caring for her. It is hard to explain. Yoo Ra's personality was constructed to be best by any meaning, with the same finality, being better than Yi Joo and overtrow her.

• In the Webtoon | Novel she is way more cinic, her feigh innocence give me chills too. She's always wants to shine brighter, to have the best and take things that she thinks it belongs to her by any way, and this is a great reflection from her mother. She's always trying to make people pity her, thinking she's a angel (in special her dad) so people around are always focusing on the "most apparent" reason (she plays a lot with her words), her jealous and envious adoptive sister. She brings hell to Yi Joo. Oh, the way she plays the victim all the time, god, my nerves.

• In middle school, highschool and college too, Yoo Ra always carefully made people go against Yi Joo, making ger suffer a lot with bullying from Yoo Ra's friends. One in special is in the drama, the employee that gave food to Do Guk! That girl was a very close friend to Yoo Ra in high school, the girl didn't know but she was basically doing the dirty job for Yoo Ra: sending people to vandalize and destroy Yi Joo table and books, shoving and tripping her around the hallways, isolating, insulting and even putting threatning mensagens in Yi Joo's locker.

• Too bad for her that Yi Joo still met Soo Jin, Do Guks cousin that suffered bullying too (Yoo Ra didn't know that she belonged to the Seo family) because that helped a lot on the future when Soo Jin told her family about her being bullied because Yoo Ra was in the middle of it, so it's a important part in the novel.

• So about her ending, she deserved everything. Se Hyeok and his sister were nothing to her, just a pawn to hurt Yi Joo. But Yoo Ra was still carrying his child and Se Hyeok's family had to accept her because everybody knew the baby was his and if they didn't do it their "reputation" would be ruined. So basically Yi Joo life was now hers, but worse; she almost send her sister in law to jail, tarnished her mother in law image and broke Se Hyeok heart in the worst way possible add the fact the she basicaly ruined them financially. In the Webtoon | Novel, they had to sold the house and all luxury things to live. Yoo Ra was a mother at home, cleaning, cooking, washing and suffering with both mother and sister constant resentment and anger and Se Hyeok negligence.

• EXTRA • Her final scene is were she meet her mother at jail, she's says that she won't be visiting anymore and carry on with her life, she's sounds somewhat regretful and depressive for everything, but, at the same time, frustrated and angry with her situation and with her mother. But in the drama, GURL! Freezing shoulder, insults, bad atittude. DANG WOMAN! (*Insane clapping*)

6 - Mr. Han.

• Ugly ass, hate him, like, go to hell. Like literally, couldn't he hold thay d*ck on his pants a little bit?! For this i'm gonna make it short. I could keep talkind about his severe neglicence with Yi Joo, angry bursts and really evil words towards but this would just stress me out. As i said, i hate him, f*ck him.

• He met Yi Joo's mother when he was really young, but little time later abandoned her not knowing she was pregnant to marry his first wife. He started his affair with Jung Hye little time later, who was pretending to he his wife's friend. He tried to reach out with Yi Joo's mother but only knew about the fire and the deaths so he left this memory behind. He wasn't a good son too, never even remembering he had a sick dad. Aparently this family blood makes men turn into idiots.

• I don't really know how easily he was manipulated by Jung Hye, but his end was just deserving by how shitty of a person he was most of his life. Jung Hye poisoned him with a lot of pills for years, making him sick all the time, one day he tries to go down the stair, but fall, having a fracture and losing his legs movements, biding him to a weelchair. As fragile as he was, Yi Joo still drops the bomb the she is his daughter, that Jung Hye knew and now she was taking the family business. He keeps in denial for a long time until he sees his wife true face.

• He ends up alone, passing his years constantly helping Yoo Ra with money, still pitting on her, and being treated as nothing because he has nothing to offer anymore.

• EXTRA • About his ending on the drama, and the talk with Yi Joo's mother, i still hate it, he deserved worse. He's even in "good terms" with Yi Joo too! He was pathetic and coward. It was a considerably neutral ending for him, i can live with that but won't ever accept it.

7 - Seo Family

• Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it. (thank u icon Lady Gaga)

• Despite his dad being a bit stupid, this family is what i truly desire in in-laws. They're suportive, kind, empathetic and the best of the best. In the Novel | Webtoon, there all more playfull, Mrs. Cha is who i love the most, she recognize Yi Joo the first time they meet but hides it. Mr. Han takes more time but tru the novel he just becames kinder and kinder.

• Do-Na and Jae Ho are super cute, they have a lot of scenes together in the Novel | Webtoon. They're lovely, Jae Ho being Do Guks best friend and brother in-law is such a mood. I would absolutely love a spin-off about their story. We love a good spin-off.

• Soo-Jin got a man too! We love a great best friend having a happy end. Love this girl.

• EXTRA • They go crazy when Yi Joo gets pregnant. Shes makes a anouncement to the family and they flip off after seeing the ultrasound showing the twins. It is so worthing seeing on the webtoon.

8 - Jae Wook

• He is way more evil. Egoist. Liar. Thief. Loves to do psycological terror on his family. Literally pretending to be disabled for almost two decades like, THE HELL?! For him i'm going to list his crimes.

• Theft. Embellzement. Murder. Atempt of murder. Many atempts to kill Do Guk + poisoned Yi Joo on a restorant while trying to corner her and puts her on a hospital bed. Paid someone to PUSH YI JOO OUT OF BOAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SEA just to make Do Guk more traumatized because the poor guy jumped to save her. This is mind blowing. Both in the drama and Novel | Webtoon the bomb in the car is there and its TENSE!

• Look, this guy has absolutely abandoment issues but if he wanted to kill somebody, this person is his dad not his brother. Like, all his life he believed that was his dad that kicked his mother to the curb and separated her from him, so he planned and planned just to end up in jail, where his discover that his mother was the one who abandoned him by her own will to be with another man. THE CLOWN!

• EXTRA • His initial plan was to seduce Yi Joo. *trow up*.

9 - Se Hyeok.

• Fake b*tch. LOSER! I already explained everything about him on the other post. I won't waste time with this idiot. He never truly apologized to Yi Joo, i don't think he regreted much of it too. He passed the rest of his life with Yoo Ra, between hate and love, and with his bloodsucker family.

• F*ck him. Their last scene on the drama was perfect.

•Byyye.

• EXTRA • The way he got back with Yoo Ra was WAS AMAZING! I adore that they kept the original (almost) scene of him presenting his future fiance & family (a very rich one by the way) to to Jae Sook and Se-Hee and BANG! Yoo Ra's at the door claiming that she's going to live with them (she's got nowhere else to go) because she was with his child. LIKE?! In the novel, the hell breaks and she almost get physical with his mother, sister and fiance! The end.

10 - Se Hyeok's Family.

• His mother (Jae Sook) and sister (Se-Hee) were both greedy and mean people, always pressuring Yi Joo with money and luxury things. Yi Joo basically sustained the house were she was treated as maid but it was never enough for them (with Se Hyeok giving his back for the situation they were always bold).

• They made Yi Joo cook, clean and taking care both of the house and her own job without a moment of peace. Jae Sook was the worst one, she wanted a grandchild at any way just to have more rights about Yi Joo's heiritance, torturing poor Yi Joo about it and even making medical apointments to see why she wasn't still pregnant, not knowing that Yi Joo never even kissed Se Hyeok in her life.

• Se-Hee was the usual spoiled brat that never takes a "no" for a answer, ya'll see in the drama how bad she treats even her own brother. I think it was a great lesson for her almost going to jail about her posts on the internet about Yi Joo, she almost got crazy and i loved every second of it. In the Webtoon, she looks way more paranoic after discovering what time of person Yoo Ra was.

• EXTRA • KARMA GOT Y'ALL! XOXO!

11 - Secretary Kim Jae Won

• In the novel, he was adopted by his dad and was very loved. Some time later Mr. Kim met Jung Hye, married and aparently had a happy life (i don't know if Yoo Ra was already on the page that time). Then gradually his dad got sick and sick, getting worse to find his end binded in a bed and, even as a small kid, Jae Won suspected of his "mother". (I think she used some "pills" again?)

• His dad was a famous painter and had a great fortune so we can get why Jung Hye "popped out" since she was already on the market of falsifications.

• His dad died when he was pre-teens, Jung Hye got a way to have all the money and soon pushed him to the fartest orphanage. He held grudges all his life because he had this feeling that Jung Hye did all. Well, he came with a very brilliant revenge i dare say.

• EXTRA • He was way more charming on the Novel | Webtoon and had more personality (i don't know why they just made him almost a "blank paper", such a turn off). He was more active too in the plans.

12 - Jamie / Yi Joo's bio mother

• So, this woman suffered, i surelly could describe her suffering but i think y'all saw the drama, but the Webtoon | Novel made me tearful, truly. Mr. Han was bullshit. Her dad was bullshit. The Jung Hye comes and there's more sociopath bullshit to put fire on her house with a baby inside. Like, this woman did everything to survive alone after Mr. Han left her to get married to a rich family and still had to get almost killed by one of his lovers.

• As you know she discovered it all, and of course, revenge. I pity her because when Yi Joo found out about her it wasn't that calm as in the drama, Yi Joo even denies her existence. I can understand Yi Joo side because tecnically her mom watched her being abused, it was a misuderstanding, but she felt abandoned again and wasn't open to receive this affection now.

• A thing that i missed was her encounter with Jung Hye and THAT SCENE OHMYGOD WHYDIDTHEYLEFTITOUT!!!. You all remember that Jung Hye needed the votes to be the president, right?! So she called to the unknow 5% shareholder to meet AND WHO'S THERE?! Yes, the mama. Jung Hye don't recognize at first but Jamie just spilled the tea to her and she's f*cked. OH Jung Hye face was ahhhh?!!! I love the Webtoon.

• EXTRA • The webtoon it's on the final chapters but Yi Joo and Jamie reconcilied and doing well, of course, WITHOUT MR. HAN on their lives because that's what he deserves!

•••• SO MY FINAL THOUGHTS ARE...••••

I LOVE THE ENDING, THE FAMILY, THE BABY, GIRL, THE PAINTING, SE HYEOK AND YOO RA HATING EACH OTHER, JUNG HYE ON JAIL! That's everything i wanted, like, they left things that i loved out but still maintened the main plot and did really well. I would like to thank all the actors and actresses that put all their effort in this drama and made it perfect.

PERFECT MARRIAGE REVENGE <3 <3 <3 <3.

Thank you all the came here. Have a great night. Byyyeee.

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aspoonofsugar · 2 years

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I'm so excited for your Yang character analysis. She's my favorite character to analyze because she's just so fascinating and is by far the character I've done the most in-depth analysis of.

I find that a lot of people tend to only look at Yang from a surface-level perspective, which is totally cool, not everyone likes to analyze things below the surface, but even amongst the more critical analysts, I see a lack of addressing some of her core flaws, ones that have been with her since we met her and make up who she is, such as:

how her altruistic mentality absolutely borders and sometimes crosses the line into self-sacrificing with little regard for herself and the reason for this is because she feels that she needs to be, and is the best person suited to, essentially be the "mom friend", but taken to an extreme and dangerous level, even to the point where she chose her career path, a huntress, but buried the origin of this mentality beneath a layer of gallows humor

how, that, even though she loves ruby dearly, she's also, at the risk of wording this poorly, drained by her. she's given her entire life to her since she was young and has continued to do so, so much so that she has no vision of her own future, lacking her own personal goals, and denies her own desires, such as being able to find her own friends and be on her own team and be able to sit down and talk with raven about why she left

how her abandonment issues stem from summer disappearing and in turn learning about raven leaving her with tai, and how that hole she has in her heart causes her to try and always be the one to protect others because she doesn't want anyone else to feel the ache she does and it's become second-nature for her after doing so for ruby for so long

how, after the reveal of the hound and the horrifying implications of summer's fate, likely worsened her abandonment issues and yes she considers summer her hero, the fact that she left on a practically guaranteed suicide mission when she might have had the choice to stay with them and try to protect them from there must weigh heavily on her

how yang is the glue that keeps team rwby together. she's able to connect with others and she's the one with the closest bonds with the rest of her teammates, trusting weiss enough to spill about her emotional baggage, her relationship with blake, and being siblings with ruby, and how she needs to face the facts that because she wears her heart on her sleeve and can make these connections so easily, that her self-sacrificing tendencies do more harm than good to her loved ones

how ruby's refusal to take yang's concerns about ironwood seriously and essentially dismissing them as "we'll deal with it when we need to", which likely insulted her because of all she's given up for ruby, done what she could to protect her over everything else, and thus strained their relationship, likely making her question herself and lower her self-esteem, as seen when she was worried about how blake would see her because she chose to help mantle.

Okay, that was way too long, but yeah, her character is the physical manifestation of "come full circle", at least in my eyes, and because of that, she's so utterly fascinating and I never get tired of her and I'm so excited to see how these will be addressed in V9 and how she acknowledges, explores, heals, and overcomes them.

Hello!

Thank you, I am excited as well!

As for now, though, the Semblance of the Soul Yang's meta is actually third in line, so it might still take a while.

I love your points though!

I especially like how you highlight that Yang's trauma stems from Summer's disappearence and is later on combined with Raven's abandonement. Only for it to be triggered by Adam defeating her and cutting her arm.

It is as if her wounds are layered and all go back to losing her mother, which for her it is a twofold loss - being left out of selflessness (Summer) and out of selfishness (Raven). This double loss makes so that for her it is difficult to find balance (the crux of her arc) and to show vulnerability.

That said, she has already made tons of progress in the Mistral arc by facing both Raven and Adam. In a sense, it is interesting because Yang, Blake and Weiss all make huge progress through their major conflict by facing their flaw first psychologically and then physically...

I mean...

Weiss and the Royal test >>> she runs from home (overcomes psychologically) and fights the Queen Lancer (overcomes physically)

Blake and her Beast conflict >>> she firstly overcomes Adam psychologically and frees the Faunus from his influence (Heaven) and then fights him off physically (The Blumbleby vs Adam's fight)

Yang and her Strength vs Vulnerabilty conflict >>> she confronts Raven (spychological( and then she defeats Adam (physical)

It is as if the 3 girls are all grappling with the same basic problem, but from 2 different perspectives...

This is also why Raven and Adam are clearly foils. Both are cowards, but Raven is too passive and always runs away, while Adam keeps stalking Blake and does not leave when given a last chance. Raven does not act, while Adam can't understand when to let go.

The confrontation with Raven is especially interesting because it follows a common pattern where a younger girl who is not technically a Maiden is more of a Maiden than the one with powers. The result is that the younger girl is actually the "true" Maiden of the arc and her example inspires/or at least should inspire the older one to be better:

Pyrrha, Yang and Penny are better Maidens than Cinder, Raven and Winter. To quote Winter, they are the true Maidens at heart because they truly understand and embody the theme linked to each Season.

Pyrrha understands what choice and destiny mean. She tries to tell Cinder, but Cinder does not understand and kills her. Right now, theirs is the least successful attempt of integration because instead of learning from Pyrrha, Cinder just murders her. That said, I have no doubt she will learn by the end and Pyrrha's question and teaching will come back into play.

Penny embodies the theme of creation in how she is both a creation that lives and dies, but also a creator that has to choose between creation and destruction. She chooses creation, trust and love and her last action is to affirm Winter's personhood by literally creating the Blue Fairy :'''). Penny and Winter's is the most successful realization of the younger maiden/older maidern pattern. It is tragic, but Winter learns from Penny's example.

Finally, we have Yang and Raven. Raven frames herself as strong and smart, but she is truly just a coward. Yang is the one who really grows strong and smart and in their final confrontation she shows her mother that these 2 attributes really mean. Being strong means to do the right choice even if it is dangerous and difficult. It means to act despite fear. Beins smart means to understand subtlety, to realize things are not black and white and to ask questions, when you have doubts. In her confrontation with Raven, Yang does both things and shows she is in fact smarter and stronger than Raven. She acquires knowledge, like Raven, but differently from her mom, she is not stopped by this.

This is why she is symbolically the one entering the Vault and retrieving the relic:

She is the real Maiden.

Interestingly, the theme of knowledge pops up in Raven and Yang's relationship in several ways:

Yang: You don't know the first thing about my teammates! About me! You were never there! You LEFT US!! Why?!

Raven: It's not that simple. You don't know me, you don't know what I've been through, the choices I've had to make!

They don't know each other.

Yang herself pursues knowledge in regards to Raven:

Yang: That question... Why? I didn't know an answer, but I was determined to find out. It was all I thought about. I would ask anyone I could about what they knew about her.

But the truth is that there are no easy answers and Raven can't give them to her:

Raven: I'm giving you a choice. Stay here, with me, and I'll answer all your questions and more. We can have a fresh start. Or... you can go back to Qrow and join Ozpin's impossible war against Salem, and meet the same fate as so many others. But can you really go back to trusting someone that's kept so much from you?

Finally, by the end of volume 5 Yang takes Vernal's place as Raven's daughter who knows her secret and apparently she does not share it:

Qrow: What happened?

Yang: I don't know exactly. When I got down there, Cinder was gone, and Vernal was dead.

Qrow: And Raven?

Yang: Gone.

Raven and Yang obviously need closure, but before that I agree with you Ruby and Yang's relationship needs focus and I am expecting it to have it this volume:

It is obvious Ruby has been depending on Yang she she does with almost a motherly figure and for both sisters they should overcome this.

Thank you for the ask and your thoughts!

#rwby #yang xiao long #asksfullofsugar #greenteaandtattoos

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majesticwren · 2 years

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The Trickster’s Kiss ᚲ (Ivar/Angrboda/Hvitserk)

Summary: What if Angrboda, daughter of Floki and Helga, never died? She is gifted and cursed. She who walks the Earth guided and Inspired by the Trickster. Grown to become a gifted witch, a skilled warrior, a determined and loyal woman. She who takes guard over her loved one, her people and even the Gods. And in her life, made of choices, and war, and magic, and whispers, she is destined to always choose the side of a man she loves dearly, over her soulmate. As much as she would always choose Loki, over any other God. Behold! A tale about a War of heart, cultures and Gods. The events of this fanfic starts at S402 continuing to S602. It may contain flashbacks.

Words: 13k. Trigger Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, Loss of Virginity, Slight Fluff, Mostly Angst. Gifs by: tagged. Divider by: @firefly-graphics .

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius@deans-ch-ch-cherrypie@miss-madness67 Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged. ✨

Masterpost Playlist

Chapter 11 - A Touch of Destiny.

Some days passed by, which Angrboda spent peacefully with Floki and Helga, at the cabin in the woods.

She spent her time helping her father finishing up building the ships for Bjorn's fleet, and her mother gathering materials for any necessities met during their journey.

Every night, Ragnar would join them, and Floki and he would tell stories around the fire making Angrboda feel like she was a child, with eyes full of wonders and a heart able to dream about all those tales of glory and distant places.

It was nice. Everything felt so normal. Angrboda's routine had a tranquillity even she didn't recognize.

For a few days an extremely calm energy surrounded her, and she enjoyed every second of it, absorbing it deeply into her being. Even if she didn't trust it. Trust was a difficult feeling to have, those days.

The Gods were quiet and left her space. The fairies chanted and the wind carried its distant songs, with no unbearable omens to be heard.

All the energies around her seemed to be balanced. And she wondered how could life feel if it was always like that. Just simple, even for people like her.

The entire world around her felt just a bit steadier, and day by day, the ground she stepped on seemed more and more solid.

After what she has experienced in the past week, Angrboda felt blessed by that peace. It was like a cool bath after days spent rolling around in dirt and mud, but for her soul.

Day after day she just felt healed. Slowly growing to be even happy, the more the anger that consumed her a few days back left its hold on her and disappeared.

At least for the most part - there were still great things dawning upon her, and she knew that beautiful, blissful moment sealed in time and space, wouldn't have lasted forever. She still felt the omens carried by the Seer words and Loki's curses weighing on her shoulders.

But they felt far away enough to let her breathe a little.

Of course, it was nothing more but a temporary break from her duties.

She could not say the same about her dreams. Every night, many visions would come and hunt her in a mixture of what was past, present, or future, and just oneiric. Though they would all seem and felt so vivid, that tell the difference between a vision and a dream was still hard enough. In all honesty, Angrboda didn't have a meaning or will to decode her own dreams and understand which was which, and what was the meaning of everything.

She felt so distant from her duties and the realization of the path set in front of her that every morning, she took the wise decision to interpret her dreams as such, and nothing more.

All her dreams were confused visions of moments and memories blended randomly to the Ancient One's words, of which Angrboda could still not make much sense of - but for a few things.

As for her visions, Angrboda seemed willing to put her life on hold even on the Seer omens. Another wise decision she took, was to take her sweet time to ignore it - at least for a while, at least since it seemed all so irrelevant there at the cabin.

She did her best to get as far as possible from Hvitserk and Ivar, and their whole situation. Both physically and mentally. Yet they still find and tormented her, every night. Her every dream or vision contained them as well. But that shouldn't be surprising with what happened between them.

But she accepted it as a tolerable toll to pay to have a bit of peace.

Even when her dreams would take an unexpected and uncomfortable sexual vibe, waking her up startled, in the middle of the night, feeling desperately guilty, or desperately uncomfortable, or desperately sad, or desperately longing. All depending on the scenarios or the subjects. Or just her mood.

Because for clear reasons, Angrboda was trying her best to push those thoughts about Hvitserk away every awake second. And for clear reasons, she was also trying not to give too much thought to similar fantasies about Ivar.

Yet they were still there, waiting for her when she fell asleep.

But Angrboda chose once more to put her life on hold, and just enjoy her tranquil, simple, easy existence - pretending there was nothing wrong and nothing to worry about.

That she was just a girl. And those were just dreams.

Soon though, sooner than what she would have wished for, the day came.

The day of Ivar's calling.

When he said he had a plan in his mind for their union, he wasn't lying.

It was a fairly easy message the one she received, to show up after sunset at the fishinghut close by coast. And it was even delivered by a messenger. It was the first time Angrboda felt so important to have a messenger delivering her the word of another.

Still, besides everything, Angrboda was waiting for that moment. And she was ready.

Just after dusk as instructed, she arrived at yet another cabin in possession of the Brothers'. It was once used by Ragnar to retreat to himself and hide with all the strange creatures and wild animals he liked to have around. Now, the Brothers used it more or less in the same way, but with fewer oddities.

It was small and had all the commodities of a liveable home, built with wood planks that weren't put together with the same consideration a house to live in would deserve, but it still held pretty well, considering it stood there for years and years.

The cabin was East of Kattegat and found its bearings on the coast, in a corner of the fjord where the waters were shallow and mostly calm. Its position meant that mostly the Brothers would use it in Summertime, to get away from Kattegat, and especially if they fancied going out fishing.

The sky was turning dark, with its beautiful shades of oranges and pinks quietly and quickly leaving space for the night. The brightest stars already shined through those colours; it was easy to foretell that the sky would have been filled with them, that night. Especially that far away from the lights of Kattegat.

The air felt dense and humid. It fizzed with the buzzing of the energy of a day just passed by, which was praised by the fairies in their calm chants.

Upon arriving, Angrboda looked around appreciating that view and inhaling the air and its brackish scent.

More than everything, she absorbed the calm energies that still surrounded the world, like the ground would absorb the heat of a Summer day.

She wondered when that peculiar feeling would shatter, leaving space to raw panic, fear, and violent anger once again - as it happened recently. Or, maybe, she thought that everything could be just normal, as usual, unchanged and not at all special. But because of the powerful and dark feelings she had been bombarded with in the past week, then normality felt just so special, even when it was not.

Angrboda pulled Ulfrún reins, bringing her loyal grey mare to slow down her pace. She leaned in to caress her horse strong neck, receiving a happy whinny in return, definitely, her horse was enjoying the view and that change in scenery feeling her same calm.

They slowly crossed that last piece of land. The closer one would get to the actual coast, the more it became fragmented by a multitude of more or less thin streams of water and shallow ponds.

Angrboda had to admit that place was beautiful, with its view; especially that time of the day. And part of her wondered if Ivar picked it for that reason specifically. Maybe because he liked it. Or if it was just a place like any other, but far enough from Kattegat to give him space.

Those thoughts were immediately followed by her wondering if they would have had time to talk. Maybe later? It's been a while and Ivar was still her friend.

But as soon as Angrboda put any thought into that later, an underline of panic starter to grow under her skin, making her being shiver.

Later. After she would have given herself to Ivar the Boneless. It wasn't a matter of who, she already established what an honour it would be and what sort of advantages she could possibly receive from it.

It was the simple fact that she was going to give herself to another man. Not Hvitserk. And the idea was terrifying. It shook her bones both in such a cold and hot shiver, that was more than enough to kick her anxiety in and give her a whole new load of doubts and possibilities about consequences and regrets.

More than anything, besides the human matters that could involve her, and her relationships and everything of that sort. Angrboda wondered if she would anger Loki once more, and how dangerous the consequences, in that case, would be.

Was it a test design specifically by the Trickster? Was it all a game, just to see how she would react? Was it to test her loyalty and faith once again?

Or was she free to take that decision?

She wondered about it since she and Ivar made their agreement, since she heard the howling of a wolf carried in the wind. She wondered about it since she later kissed Ivar, feeling the chains that always held her down break.

Was it a test just to see how far she would go? To see if she would dare to push herself all the way?

Or she actually had freedom, regarding her affairs with Ivar?

And if so, of course, it was more than natural for Angrboda to wonder why. Why were her hands tied by such tight, unbreakable chains with Hvitserk and everything she did around him, but not with Ivar?

For a while, she imagined Loki could be angered by her choice in a companion regardless of who they might be. Besides her affection for Hvitserk, it was one of the main reasons why she never took time or interest in finding someone else.

But then she made the decision to go with Ivar and nothing happened. And she kissed him and nothing happened.

So, why?

Why were the Gods dead quiet now?

She wouldn't complain. Yet her questions didn't disappear but just grew.

Angrboda wondered if she would have found answers later. Surely, she was more ready to face tremendous consequences, than anything else. And for her loyalty to Ivar the Boneless, she would have taken the risk.

Angrboda was distracted by her thoughts when she finally approached the cabin.

Ubbe stood there, arms crossed to the chest and proud icy eyes pointed at her. He had the look and posture of a guardian.

Angrboda left her horse near the wooden fence close by, together with the other horses the brothers owned, and was greeted by the eldest.

"You came."

"Of course I did."

Ubbe looked back at her for a long second. His aura spiralled and moved, shifting through various emotions: he was concerned, but also almost overwhelmed by brotherly pride, there was a touch of anger, but much more need to be protective. Even if Angrboda could not say of whom. But if she had to guess, it must have been towards Hvitserk.

Just the idea of crossing his path made her shiver. For once, Angrboda didn't want to feel his aura. But she could feel him, the warmth of the Sun that came from inside the cabin was enough to betray his location.

"Some of us didn't believe Ivar when he told us. And some of us hoped you wouldn't show up." Ubbe gave her such a meaningful look, which now took away all her possible concerns about who the older brother was worried for - and it was definitely Hvitserk. Making her also understand the point of view of his younger brother.

Through his aura, Angrboda felt the resonance of deep and dark jealousy and anger that wasn't Ubbe's, but that he carried around - like traces of a contagious disease.

Angrboda lifted her chin up, suddenly filled with pride. It wasn't their role to speculate about her or care so much about her business.

Besides, she was allowed to choose whomever she wanted to share a bed with - despite the possible anger of the Gods.

"I think some of you should mind their own business."

"You will break his heart. You know that, right?" Finally, Ubbe addressed the real problem, and Angrboda had to admit she respected him for it. Just straight on truth and protectivity, instead of whatever bullshit Ubbe decided to feed her at first.

She then nodded and shrugged. "He broke mine too. So, we are even."

They weren't. Because she was the one that actually hurt Hvitserk the most, but that was beside the point.

"Are you doing this just for revenge?! Using my little brother for-'' The assumptions Ubbe voiced immediately mixed with his emotions, stirring the automatic reaction one like him would have. To protect someone loved, anger and violence were the way. They were all born and groomed into that belief, because physical strength was a primal instinct for survival.

She couldn't say she didn't understand his point of view. But she still took great offence in his words, for what they meant, for the way Ubbe, of everyone, decided to depict her - even just privately, even just for a moment.

She stepped closer raising her head and looking at him straight in the eye. Their difference in height didn't matter. Angrboda inhaled a big breath of air, and her nostrils vibrated in subtle anger. "I care about Ivar more than any of you could ever imagine or understand. Do not insult me - if I just wanted to make Hvitserk jealous, I would have fucked any other man."

"I hope for you, that you know what you're doing. I don't doubt your honour, Angrboda - and we all know what it means to be the Sons of Ragnar. And you know I don't doubt my little brother's honour either. But this is different."

"It's none of your business, though."

"I know that look on your face. I would never justify what Hvitserk did to you - which is why I let you have your moment and punch him because he deserved it. I'm just trying to understand."

"What are you trying to understand?"

"I didn't notice you were this close to Ivar."

"You didn't?"

"No."

"Next time I will make sure to announce my interests loud and clear so you can all know and speculate about it, then."

"Angrboda-"

"Ivar is waiting for me."

"He is. And I am talking to you."

Angrboda sighed, then shook her head, looking away. She bit her tongue, imposing herself not to argue more and for no reason, not then and there.

She raised her hand, placing it on Ubbe's arm looking back at him. She gave him a squeeze, leaning her head on the side. "We will talk. I promise."

Besides his doubts, Ubbe's respect and affection for her were clear. So, he nodded to her words maybe deciding to if not to trust her, at least giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Angrboda nodded back in response, and the two looked at each other in the eyes for a second longer, as if they were making sure the promise was made or received.

Then, she finally left him moving around the house. Her steps were firm, but their sound seemed to bounce back in the air louder than they ever been before, echoed by the fairies in the distance.

She took a breath in, and time seemed to have slowed down.

She now owed an explanation to Ubbe. But she wondered if all the Brothers felt the same doubts he felt... And she realised there weren't so many other brothers left to consider their opinion. Sigurd would still have hated her, and he would possibly become even more bitter.

While Hvitserk... Well, she was aiming to break his heart. So, deep down she hoped that would be the final consequence she would get from him.

Sigurd stepped out of the house. His head hanging low, and his face was livid. Yet he still had the courage to look right into her eyes and offer a wicked grin. His bright green eyes shined with their usual cunning light, clearly not losing a chance to make a point. "I hope you will enjoy yourself."

Angrboda just sent him a frozen look, her facial expression remained unmoved and unimpressed. "Thank you for your concern. I think your brother can take very good care of me."

"Yeah? Which one?" Sigurd quickly tipped his head to the side, now his smile disappeared but his eyes still burned with the same sly light they had before, his deformed snake-like pupil seemed to move.

Angrboda didn't answer, even if a great deal of anger mounted inside of her, together with a shot of pain, Sigurd's words always had the power to cut right through her, even if she was strong enough to hide it, Angrboda managed to control her own emotions, showing her mention with nothing but clenching her jaw.

Sigurd smirked once again, nodding towards her. "I wonder who's next!"He giggled evilly, just passing over her, giving her a slight push with his shoulder.

Angrboda squeezed her fists, feeling the real need to hurt him, deeply. But also, she had to maintain control.

She sighed, taking a second to compose herself and then pointed her eyes in front of her, towards the door, ready to enter.

Seemed like the Gods decided she had to have a confrontational path with the brothers before she could do what she was summoned to do, because there was Hvitserk, who stepped out the door next.

But she should have expected to cross Hvitserk, knowing very well he was still inside the cabin.

Her skin immediately reacted in front of him, tingling but relaxing, exactly as it would happen when one would be exposed under the warmth of the Sun after suffering the cold.

Angrboda took a good look at him, thinking it has been a long time, and she missed him and his energy. She noticed his almost completely healed bruises and part of her was glad to know he was ok. But more than anything, she was struck on the spot by his ambered irises. Hvitserk looked at her and stood still for a second, while his aura suddenly spiked with a storm of mixed emotions. More than anything though, he felt pain and jealousy. He didn't reserve her anger, even if Angrboda knew he had plenty of it.

She felt like she faced a wall, and keep walking or even breathing, felt heavy and damn hard. It was like her ankles were strapped to some weights.

Going on, proceeding with that decision she knew it wouldn't have given her any chance to fix the consequences. Even knowing it was for the best, was the hardest thing Angrboda had to do. Especially under Hvitserk's eyes.

She broke eye contact, letting go of the air trapped in her lungs, taking a step forward, she thought she had to. Part of her even remembered what Hvitserk did, and thought he deserved it. Even if she knew it wasn't fair.

Hvitserk moved too, grabbing her arm and giving her a soft shake, he made her look up once more, locking his eyes to hers. The gold of his irises burned, and she almost felt it dripping inside of her, together with his light and emotions.

Her heart was already shattered but still managed to break even more severely. Besides the anger that brought her to accept Ivar's offer in the first place, and the pride she felt towards him, and the fact that now she thought it would be helpful, it felt like she was punched in the stomach by an invisible force just by how unfair life was.

Hvitserk squeezed her arm even more, and moved closer, but didn't say anything. The pain burning through his aura was enough of a clear message.

Angrboda thought to raise her hand and caress his face, a gesture that in her mind, as she saw it happening, would have the bitter-sweet feeling of a farewell.

But then she remembered leaving space for any sweetness and showing interest was too dangerous. It would leave space for variabilities.

So, her face remained frozen serious. She just moved her arm, forcing Hvitserk to let her go. Then, she didn't say anything and just looked away and moved, breaking that moment. Because that was the way she was supposed to act. Even if it hurt like hell.

Her skin could have been burned off completely and it would have felt better than the black, hollow void inside of her getting larger and deeper.

But that wasn't the time to think about her and Hvitserk and their relationship.

Not now, not just before she would have given herself to Ivar. She knew her focus needed to be elsewhere, or it would have been harder. And also, quite frankly, it would have been disrespectful in regard to Ivar. He didn't deserve to have her thinking about someone else the whole time.

Especially, because she could remember how easily she forgot about the world, between Ivar's arms. It was like a memory that found its home not in her mind, but under her skin. A memory that would crawl all around her, every time she took a moment to think about their kiss. More specifically, the fact that it wasn't a cold, impersonal act, but that it has been quite the opposite.

Angrboda finally found her way into the cabin.

Now, there were no more obstacles between herself and Ivar. And sealing their agreement.

She closed the door behind her, shutting the whole world out - and suddenly, everything fell into a weird, still quietness.

Every sound from the outside world felt so far distant. The fairies went quiet once again, and even her mind did. Everything that didn't matter with her and Ivar, was left out of that door, and it felt so strange yet so liberating.

"You are here-" His voice broke the silence, it was bent under a certain pressure, broken by a vibration that Angrboda could feel resonate even in his aura.

She felt Ivar's aura before having the chance to look at him. It danced on her skin, making her powers tingle and react to it, immediately absorbing his nervousness, uncertainty, fear, pride and desire.

She turned, finally looking for him.

A deep sigh left her chest as soon as their eyes crossed. Ivar stirred seas eyes locked with hers, trapping her soul, and she was now unable to move, or to think. All her worries seemed to evaporate, leaving her mind surprisingly clear and free.

He sat on the edge of the bed placed in the middle of the room, which was lit by an indefinite number of candles and a fireplace in the corner.

The cabin felt cosy and safe, yet its environment was frosty, like the energies spiking between Angrboda and Ivar.

Ivar truly looked and felt like he was surprised to see her. It was almost sweet, the fact that maybe even he didn’t believe she would actually show up. And it was also sad.

She was sure he showed a proud and invincible face to anyone else, but now, even more than how his aura could betray him, his eyes showed such vulnerability and hope.

Like his voice, his body seemed uneasy, revealing his anxiety and awkwardness in the stiffness of the way he sat and how his shoulders were tensed.

Angrboda finally melted in a smile that she offered to him, bending in a hint of a bow. “Of course I am. Did you doubt me?"

He answered her with a big but nervous smile, which Ivar quickly tried to mask, tipping his head to the side, showing his usual arrogance. “I know you are not so stupid to miss such an occasion.”

Angrboda’s smile diminished, but she still nodded and found the courage to take a step forward. Then another, moving closer to Ivar.

What was supposed to be accepted to do, now?

Because of the warmth she experienced when they kissed, she knew they would have melted, sooner or later. Even if Angrboda had to admit, she was way more nervous now, than that past night.

Now everyone knew. And the word would have travelled fast. And maybe one day she would have had to give explanations. She wondered if her parents would have had something to say. If anyone would have had something to say.

Would people suddenly start to look at her in a different way, or a different light? Would it improve her social situation? Or worsened it?

Her relationship with Hvitserk was kept secret and just those close to them could assume they were or have been close. But Ivar wasn’t someone who would want to lay low, not on something like that. She knew it was also a matter of status for him. Another way to show he was like his brothers, and probably better. Another way to be proud and gain respect.

Because loved and respected or not, and besides the whole scepticism around her, Angrboda was still renowned. She was the daughter of Floki, and in their society, she had a good amount of fame. So, she wasn't any woman.

And that was what Ivar wanted. To show everyone he could do better. Angrboda didn't find offence in the idea he was using her and then showing her off as a prize. She thought he had all the rights to do so.

Even if she wouldn't have disliked him to at least pretend he wanted her specifically, just because she would have done her best to give him that kind of treatment.

Angrboda shrugged those thoughts off her shoulders, realising they were worsening her anxiety, and she didn't need any other reason to be nervous. She moved towards a side table, putting down her weapons. It felt strange to depose her axe and dagger, especially there. Not because she didn't trust Ivar, or because she felt unsafe. Just because her body felt ready for a fight, her muscles were tense and uneased, not having the familiar weight of her weapons on her felt strange.

She now wondered what Ivar was expecting her to do?

Was he ready to give out orders for her to follow? Or would he be compliant to let her lead?

Angrboda took a second to explore his emotions. Besides the pride and slight arrogance he might have had, it truly felt like he was just waiting, even more uncertain than her. She knew what was going to happen, at least.

When Angrboda turned towards him, she started to make a plan in her mind of what she could have done to make him feel more comfortable.

Ivar slightly moved, still so tense that the air around him vibrated at his position shifting. He placed his hand on a piece of fabric next to him, bringing Angrboda's attention to it for the first time. She frowned, wondering, but imagined he wouldn't have left any space to doubt - and she was right.

"I took the liberty of having a dress made for you." He tried to push out his voice to make it sound as strong and decisive as usual, but the awkwardness that coloured his aura was undeniable. Ivar widened his shoulders, still looking proudly at her.

Angrboda was genuinely surprised. "For me?" She wondered out loud. Why take the effort and time to do such a thing?

"Yes. I know you, and I knew what clothes you would have worn-" The look he gave her was such a clear hint to what he meant.

Angrboda didn't wear dresses, unless for an occasion. She wore trousers and shirts and leather bustier or vests, and she was always armed - even when she was wearing dresses.

She wasn't a common woman, but a shieldmaiden wannabe, raised for it, trained for it. Her soul carried the echoes of battles and her blood roared for it. A passion for fighting that she inherited from her father, the most loyal Drengr Ragnar Lothbrok had by his side.

Never in her life, she felt ashamed of how she wore her clothes, especially because it wasn't that uncommon. But now.

Anyone would have assumed Ivar was just testing her, for some reason. By the way he looked at her, the amusement that covered his expression was easily mistaken for nothing more but him wanting to manipulate. As if having her accepting to give herself to him wasn't enough.

But his aura was filled with too much respect and concern for the assumptions based on the character he showed to anyone to be true.

Not even the sparkle in Ivar's eyes and the smirk he pulled when looking back at her, covered his purer intentions.

And those were what she wanted to hear.

Angrboda moved closer to him never breaking eye contact. For a second, it looked like they were challenging each other. She stopped just when she was close enough to touch his face and pull his chin up. To that move of hers, a shiver shaked him, and something cracked behind his eyes.

"And what else?" She demanded to know more of his reasons.

Ivar was a difficult character. Who he was and who he showed to anyone were often two different people and the same. But Angrboda was lucky enough to know both his sides - the proud and the vulnerable, and everything that lived in between in Ivar being.

Anyone would have stopped to their first impression of Ivar, without imagining he had other motives. People wouldn't know straight off the bat that he could care for others too.

But he did.

And Angrboda knew.

Ivar held his pride high, but a note of sweet regard slipped in his eyes and aura while he looked at her.

The air filled with electricity, bearing the same tension a lightning storm would bring, as none of them showed any intention of letting go.

Angrboda was taller than him, because he sat on the edge of the bed. And even like that, she wasn't much taller than him regardless. But it was enough for her to impose her dominance, if she wanted. But they were also very close to each other. Enough to make her hold on her control slip.

Her mind wandered wildly to a thought she resented and felt guilty about as soon as it formed in her mind, still, it was there. The question of how much taller than her he could be if he could stand?

Angrboda's eyes slid on his lips, even if just for a second. It was more than enough to make her remember their kiss and how his lips felt. And how much he was able to melt her body between his arms.

It was easy to skip from there, to the idea - or was it hope? - that he could do the same once more.

She wondered why be so nervous and scared, when just a kiss made her feel more than she expected?

She looked back at him, just to catch his eyes doing the same, looking at her lips. The desire he suddenly felt seemed to lessen greatly his tension.

"Ivar?"

He huffed as if the idea of being sincere seemed heavy. But then, he finally spoke. "I thought you didn't have to be naked for me. That you wouldn't want to. So-" he quickly pointed at it, "there's a dress that you can wear. If you want."

Angrboda's heart slowly melted, under his eyes and to the sound of his words.

One of the many reasons why she was so close to Ivar was the fact that he had a big heart, hidden under all his pride and arrogance, and protected by an armour of darkness. But there nonetheless. And not so impossible to reach for her. He could be an asshole, prone to uncontrollable spikes of rage, as much as he could be gentle. It was rare, though, that people had the patience to wait for him to show that side of himself.

Angrboda just nodded, finally satisfied with his words. His was a noble act, and the fact that he thought about her being comfortable said a lot about how Ivar valued her.

Which was a thought that filled her with pride and confidence.

She took the dress, squeezing its material between her fingers. It was more of an undergarment. It felt incredibly light, nothing like the usual thick wool or kinds of cotton they would generally be made of.

Angrboda nodded, more to herself than Ivar, and left him to go change in the adjacent room.

She left her usual, comfortable and masculine gear, to wear what Ivar gifted.

Angrboda could not lie, it was a beautiful piece; the dress was white and made of thin material, more similar to a nightgown than a day-dress. Under the light of the candles, it seemed to be slightly see-through, clearly underlining the shape of her muscular body.

Between its side folds, Angrboda noticed the tear it had uncovering partly her right leg.

It had beautiful designs of runes and images embroidered around its wide collar, which fell loose on her shoulders. The runes had such deep beautiful meanings, and they were all an ode to Angrboda the Giantess. The runes of the Heart, the Oak and the Wolf were mixed to an intricate pattern representing leaves and flowers of the red oak tree, the mugwort, the agrimony and the henbane, as well as human hearts, acorns and even daggers. The used threads were of course of the themed colours of crimson reds, oranges and yellows, copper and golds, greens and, of course, black.

It was worthy of a princess. It was beautiful. Angrboda felt a bit out of place, wearing it. It looked like a fine present for a higher, more important occasion than what it was.

But she still liked it. With all her heart. It seemed specifically thought and made just for her. No other woman was entitled to it.

It was just a bit too big on her, and definitely its hem was too long. But it was undeniably hers. And Angrboda fantasised about how much thought Ivar put into it. Just the idea he went that far made her stomach tremble under such a weird emotion.

Wearing the white dress brought with it such a crucial and decisive feeling. It was like wearing her promise to Ivar, and her bound to her duties to him.

Angrboda felt really good in it, in its shape of privacy and respect, and cut of tribute to everything she was.

Angrboda quickly washed her hands in the fresh, cold water she found in a recently filled wide bowl. And then she untied and loosened her braided hair, letting their copper waves fall naturally on her back.

Before she went back to Ivar, she took a moment to look out the window. The sky was darker now, with its colours of deep purples and oranges scarring it quickly fading into the night.

There was no sign of the other brothers outside - which meant now it was just Ivar and she. And that idea made her both sigh in relief and gasp.

Angrboda returned into the main room, finding Ivar now sat in the middle of the bed. He was waiting for her.

He took his shirt off and untied the belts that tethered his legs in place, getting rid of his boots too.

Angrboda's eyes followed the orange lights on the warm tone of his skin and the game of shadows that danced on his muscles every time he took a breath.

Ivar eyes sparkled seeing her, betraying his desire and immense satisfaction in seeing how the dress fitted her. A feeling that immediately transferred to her, filling Angrboda up with a dark and twisted delight in recognizing that feeling in him.

She moved closer, slowly, without saying a word. Afraid to scare him. Because his nervousness was still so clear, filling the air with its tangy taste - if the shivers that crossed his body weren't enough. But besides how uneasy he could appear, his eyes were determined and filled with such a warm light.

Angrboda climbed on the bed and then kneeled next to him. And there, she stopped.

Her green eyes slid upon his figure, but her hesitation was clear. She kept her hands to herself because they were shaking. Her entire body was, and her breath too. Agitated by the anxiety of the idea that with sunrise, once they would have exited that place, they would both be two different people, walking two changed paths.

Once more, Angrboda thought about how deep and prolonged was the silence of the Gods. Especially Loki'. She wasn't able to understand if it was a good or a bad thing. But surely she could not trust that sign as an encouraging one, especially after everything.

As if she spoke of her fears out loud, Ivar interrupted her, pushing her thoughts away.

He sat up straight, suddenly looking for closeness. He surprised her, taking her face gently but firmly, between his palms and didn't hesitate into making her look at him.

Angrboda gasped breathless, both because of that abrupt but appreciated move, and because of how deep and intense the colour of his irises seemed to become. So much so, she felt his eyes in her soul. She could hear the roar of violent waves of the open seas, and the taste of beating rain mixing with salty waters on her tongue, and the feeling of salty winds beating her skin.

Ivar took a second to look at her face. Angrboda felt his eyes caressing her features. It was new, he never looked at her that way before.

"I need your focus tonight. Please. Don't go anywhere else." His voice sounded so soft and touched directly her heart. Angrboda nodded, knowing exactly what he meant with his words. To stay with him with her mind. Did she drift away without realizing it? "I won't. I am here."

"I mean it. I- You know how I get if I lose control. I wouldn't want to hurt you." His words started softly, and then firmly became more thorny, while they shaped in a subtle threat.

She knew what he was capable of. Ivar was a dangerous being and no one, not even her, knew how deep his darkness went. But they were both made of it, and she understood it better than anyone else could.

As much as she knew that Ivar threat was nothing more than another of his tricks to protect himself. Who would have wanted to find themselves in such a position with a partner busy thinking about someone else?

"I am here, Ivar."

Angrboda gently took his hand, placing it on her chest, above her heart and pressed his palm against it, just so he could connect with her. And she did the same, lightly touching his skin, flesh and bones above his heart, letting its fastened and strong beat fill her palm and echo through her bones. "I am here because I want to. Tonight I'm yours."

He inhaled deeply her words into his lungs, his eyes filled with such deep emotions. And not all of them were available to her. Not even with her powers. There was something hidden behind his grey eyes. Something like a secret that she was never able to spot before.

It chanted her, suddenly making her feel like she was placed under a spell in a faraway world, detached from their reality.

She was not Angrboda Loki-Kissed. He was not Ivar the Boneless.

And everything seemed to suddenly fall into place - the balance she felt had roots and reasons.

Ivar didn't give her time to investigate the matter any further, because he leaned in, sealing her words with a kiss.

His full lips were soft but hungry and demanding. It took her just a moment to catch up, but then she met his eagerness letting that thought sink in. She was his that night, and something deep inside of her seemed to wake up and stretch all around her body, giving her a pleasureful shiver just at the idea. His.

Ivar seemed to be a quick learner. The frost that surrounded him, much like the night they kissed the first time, already evaporated, and now pure fire flooded his veins. Angrboda inhaled his desire entirely, as if it was her right to have it. Because he was hers.

Ivar wrapped his strong arms tight around her figure, pulling her closer - and once again, Angrboda gasped. Up to that specific moment, she didn't realise how much she longed to be that close to him.

She didn't recognize her primal desire for Ivar - so used to perceive and see him as a brother. But he wasn't her brother, he wasn't even her friend now. He was a mate, a man, and she wanted him.

All her hunger needed, to wake up, was a kiss and a passionate embrace like what Ivar has given her, and her body now felt not her own, moved by such a need. Such desire.

She thought it would have been more difficult to find comfort and fill in the part she agreed upon. Instead, an unexpected fire exploded inside of her, consuming her being.

Was it desperation? Was it Ivar himself? Or just the freedom she found meeting him.

It did not matter.

Angrboda quickly slid her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tighter in their hug. She savoured the taste of his tongue in her mouth, again just now discovering how deep were her cravings for it. And she wanted more.

She passed her fingers through the short shaved hair on the back of his head, hooking them on the longer hair he wore on top of his skull. She pulled his head backwards, violently breaking their kiss. But didn't leave Ivar any space to object.

Driven by a dark magnetism, unexplainable but undeniable, Angrboda moved, throwing her leg above Ivar's and sat on his lap. Her movements were helped by the wide, open skirt of her dress and she felt grateful about it, and about how close she could actually get to him.

Once in her new position, she dove on Ivar's neck, devouring his skin in hungry kisses.

She didn't leave him time to be surprised about her moves, because his pleasure quickly burned through every other emotion he had. Ivar melted between her arms and his heavy sighs were like music to her ears, that fed her hunger, but didn't satisfy it, making it grow bigger and deeper.

Angrboda didn't stop. Her kisses mixed with soft bites on Ivar's neck. Feeling his skin and flesh under her teeth made those feelings inside of her grow and grow.

Her desire was galloping inside of her in an uncontrollable and violent way, similar to how her anger did when she completely lost control. And Angrboda had to lie if she now said to have complete control over her own movements and passion.

Those were feelings that slept inside of her for so long, untouched and unexplored. And now they roamed free, assaulting her in a violent tide of emotions and needs that felt dense on her skin, like if she was covered in wet heavy velvet.

Ivar's reaction didn't help. The soft moan he gifted her, was like fuel on fire.

He moved his arm, placing a hand on her naked leg and pressed his palm on her skin, squeezing as much of her flesh as he could.

Angrboda's back arched, bringing her to press her body against Ivar's, but when that didn't seem enough, she dared to move her hips, slowly rubbing herself against him, which shot sparkles of pleasure throughout every single nerve and muscle in her body.

Angrboda raised her head, looking straight into Ivar eyes. His stirred seas irises were devouring, deeply consumed by pleasure.

And she ate up every single drop of his emotions, feeling the darkness inside of him moving, and changing, and spiking in pure desire. She could feel it under her fingertips, on top of her tongue, in her stomach and between her legs. It grew and moved both inside of him and throughout her. Her irises went dark the more her eyes would fill with their mixed desires.

He wanted her.

He always wanted her. It was a newly discovered truth that she never saw before. Yet so clear under her eyes and hands now. Ivar was on the edge to give himself to her, body and soul.

And Angrboda obscure side was ready to have him - to take everything. It was selfish; pure, voracious greed.

She didn't lose time thinking about what all of that meant - she just knew that there and then, she wanted all. She was transformed into a primal being, her consciousness was left elsewhere, probably buried and silenced under her desire.

Ivar didn't leave her any time to think, exactly as she did with him earlier. He wrapped his free hand around her neck, giving it a firm squeeze. Angrboda gasped but didn't break eye contact, letting Ivar grab control of the situation, while he took charge over her breathing, and asserted dominance.

Her body trembled under his hold, with her need to find satisfaction increasing to the point her core seemed to spike in painful discomfort.

Though, almost immediately, Ivar copied her recent moves. He let go of his hold, just enough to slid his finger on the nape of her neck, where his fingers squeezed her skin and hair once more, while he struck. Ivar bit her neck, but his lips and tongue almost immediately followed, feeding off her skin. A shot of pleasure crossed her, but it didn't leave behind any satisfaction, just more need.

Angrboda arched her back, letting her head fall backwards sighing a soft moan, which seemed to encourage Ivar to go on and do more. This time, Ivar was ready to embrace her, wrapping solidly an arm around her waist. He pressed her body against his as if it was needed to accentuate their closeness and she immediately reacted moving her waist once more, this time, she was intentionally rubbing herself against his hips, causing him to groan. It was a deep sound that reverberated from his chest straight through her bones.

More. She needed more.

She almost growled in frustration, showing her teeth to the dense air around her, when she realized there were too many layers of clothing dividing them.

Ivar pulled back, and their eyes now met, their energies met and mixed once again. They were both two powerful beings. But now, their energies seemed to create something new and wholesome like a night sky that surrounded them and shined through their eyes.

"I never felt something like this before-" Ivar words were bent under his heavy breathing, but they were coloured by such a deep satisfaction in reaching something, a goal, that he clearly had wanted for a while.

Angrboda moved her fingers on his lips, caressing their softness, and then a strangely sly smirk appeared on her lips. Because she knew how new his desire was. And she was feeding off it in possibly an unnatural, improper way. Yet, it was hers. It was all hers.

She was a possessive being by nature. The idea her fingers just stretched over something that no one ever touched that way was inebriating, and she was ready to be intoxicated by his virginity.

The fact that Ivar had specific desires for her, and that she was responsible for his pleasure and awakening of his body just filled Angrboda with such an obscure pride.

She leaned in for a kiss, not leaving any space for softness now, just hunger.

Ivar mood suddenly shifted. She clearly felt his darkness spike and sting hers, while he decided once more to grab control.

He pushed her down, rolling on top of her. He pressed her on the mattress with his body weight and snarled against her lips, without breaking their kiss. If possible, he was driven by an even deeper hunger than hers.

Angrboda moved her legs, more than welcoming his hips against hers, and pressed her thighs against his sides, holding him, pressing his torso between her knees. As if she wanted to trap him there.

Ivar pinned himself up digging one arm in the soft mattress. He remained as close as possible to her face. He pressed his nose against her temple, taking in a deep breath. Inhaling her essence, made his aura spike once more, spiralling in passion. "Tell me how to satisfy you. Now."

Angrboda let her head fell backwards, melting like she was suddenly made of liquid under him. She bit her lower lip, trying desperately to trap a moan. But he didn't leave her any space to think or breathe. He leaned in demandingly kissing her neck and losing himself in her reaction.

Angrboda would have happily just let him go on. Wondering if he would have found his way to her chest, and breasts. And cursing against the dress she wore, suddenly deciding she needed to be naked. She wanted every available part of her body to be pressed against his skin. And she wanted him to see it all, to have it all.

She obliged to his wish though. It wasn't even a sacrifice, because her body demanded satisfaction.

Angrboda took Ivar's free hand and didn't lose any time, or felt any modesty, guiding his hand between her legs. Pushing the dress out of the way, she pressed his fingers against her dripping, warm centre. Her body was ready for him, demanding his attention and as soon as her flesh was touched, she sighed in pleasure. Angrboda moved under him, she kept his hand in position and rubbed her core against it, freeing a moan.

Ivar crumbled upon her, he released a moan himself, which vibrated through her skin and throat, all the way to the centre of her body.

Angrboda absorbed all the prideful pleasure touching her in such a private part gave him. To hold her satisfaction in his hand made his darkness spiral and surround her. It was like his aura had its own will.

He quickly understood what he had to do and followed his instinct, moving his fingers curiously. Angrboda arched against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and digging her nails into his skin, looking for a handhold, gasping to find relief, but wanting more.

And the more her pleasure grew, the more Ivar reacted to her, having his own desire becoming more and more hungry.

Angrboda suddenly jumped, deciding she had enough.

It was time. She wanted to be united to him, she felt the aggressive need to have him inside of her and there wouldn't have been anything else able to satisfy that need, now.

She firmly placed her hands on his chest, giving him a push and making him roll over, immediately jumping on top of him.

Ivar looked up at her with such a devotion burning through his eyes. Such desire. The more she absorbed it, the more she felt powerful, feeling her energy buzzing under her skin.

Angrboda decided to follow one of her desires and reached for her dress, sliding her arms out of its sleeves and making its collar slid around her waist. Showing off the pale skin of her breast and abdomen.

Ivar sat back up as if any distance from her was unbearable. He immediately closed his strong arms around her, just for a moment mesmerized by what he could now see. But not losing any time to explore her exposed skin. His hungry lips slid across her chest, following her shoulders and collarbones and once again, Angrboda melted between his arms. She held tight on his shoulders arching and rubbing herself against his body, looking desperately for release.

She didn't have any patience to wait any longer.

Angrboda pulled back, dividing herself from Ivar just enough to slide a hand down his torso. She curiously and bravely pushed her palm against his abdomen, driving her fingers against his abs and absorbing the brute force of his muscles. She didn't stop. She reached for his trousers.

A shiver crossed her bones, while her fingertips caressed the material of his clothes but she had a specific goal and when she felt his hard manhood pressing against her hand, a deep rumble of satisfaction and pure pride rolled off her throat.

Angrboda showed off a satisfied smirk, crossing Ivar’s eyes. He seemed surprised and breathless. But more than anything, it was the sudden deep pleasure that pervaded him to unleash her every primal instinct and move her to cross that barrier.

She was insatiable, crossed by thirst and hunger for everything. His body, his pleasure, his virginity, his emotions...

Angrboda led the action, and Ivar let her take all the control she wanted. Even just such a thing made her tremble in need to have him.

Ivar wouldn't leave control to anyone. Ever.

But she had it. She had power over him.

And it was inebriating.

She quickly slid out of her dress, enjoying being naked and more than anything, enjoying seeing Ivar's eyes moving across her body eating her with his burning irises.

His hands moved, pressing against her thighs, and moving across her legs, on her hips, of which he squeezed her soft skin in his grip, and then moved along, following the firm line of her muscles on her abdomen, moving forward on her breasts, scooping them up in his palms. Ivar leaned closer, trapping her lips in a hungry and extremely demanding kiss.

She almost lost focus, under his touch, but not completely, still able to proceed and untie his trousers. She didn't even have the patience to pull them down to create any sort of space. She just pushed her hand over their hem and grabbed his erection in her palm.

They both gasped.

The energy his sex had, crossing her palm, vibrating under her touch, was enough to lift her from Midgard and send her somewhere else.

Ivar pressed his face on her chest, whining and moaning softly to her touch.

The sudden, unexpected degree of pleasure that invaded his aura bent Ivar's body under her touch, and Angrboda thrived on it.

"Please-" He cried out. His voice was a soft whisper bent under the pressure of pleasure, which developed under his skin and grew bigger and darker, mixing to the energy of his soul, feeding Angrboda's.

He pinned his hands on the mattress, and when he lifted his own weight, and hers, Angrboda didn't need his words to understand he wanted to get rid of his trousers of which impairment was becoming too oppressing. She helped him but didn't have the patience to move far away enough to remove them completely. The space created sliding them down his thighs was more than enough.

She took a moment to look at him, finding such satisfaction in the sight of him uncovered, needy, filled with pleasure and hard for her.

There were no words, no thoughts, to describe what she thought.

It was primal. Urgent. A need that crossed the hunger of the flesh and mixed with something more. Like the resonance of something else... Perhaps similar to the feeling of a Deja Vu. Something that was supposed to happen so clearly she already felt it and remembered it.

Angrboda moved closer to him, keeping a firm hold of his erection, she found her position and then slid upon him.

Her body swallowed his whole lengths - she didn't give herself time to adjust to his size and ignored the shot of pain that almost brutal imposition gave to her flesh. Because the satisfaction of that union was indescribable.

Ivar let a loud moan leave his lips and immediately searched for hers, for another passionate kiss.

His body was shaken by a shot of pain that almost immediately became ineffable pleasure. More powerful than anything he ever felt. And he drowned in it, bringing Angrboda down with him.

She grasped onto his shoulders, digging her nails once again into his skin. This time leaving deep marks, not afraid to scratch.

Her body quickly adjusted to Ivar's and soon, every move of her hips created a wave of deep dark pleasure that pervaded her, just increased by her ability to feel Ivar's satisfaction too.

It didn't take long for them to reach the pinnacle of their pleasure. Ivar's was naturally quick and violent, as it would be for someone who was so new to that kind of trembling, intense, consuming feeling. When for her, besides the pleasure he was giving her, his orgasm dragged her down into obscure, dense and incredibly hot waters from where there was no escape. No air, no light available. Just pleasure.

Angrboda moved to look at Ivar, desiring to watch the exact moment he climaxed. She was eager to know the shade his irises would take, and what expression he would make bent under such pleasure.

Her eyes were now completely black, absorbed in darkness, wild and beautiful. And her powers vibrated with such energy to make the air around them shift.

She clearly felt her darkness grow and tie itself to Ivar's. Like their bodies, their souls seemed to find each other. The ground seemed to break around them, while she felt that shift in the air changing everything about their life. Especially their fates.

She knew for a long time their destinies were tied together. She knew she was bound to stand next to him.

But now it was different. Their souls were intertwined and sealed together.

The agreement they took in such a light way just became absolute, tying them to an unbreakable bond.

And Angrboda felt it happening. The World around her stopped spinning and reversed itself.

In such a storm of events and emotions, she felt clear as day and for the first time all of Ivar's love.

Love for her.

His feelings were blinding and wholesome. And true.

She never knew. She never felt it before. But now it was all there, openly shown to her in his devoted eyes and in the pleasure his soul exploded into.

Angrboda grabbed his face between her palms, feeling his pleasure unravelling all around her, and inside of her, with such violence to make her come too. She unleashed her pleasure calling his name and took a deep dive into his stirred seas irises. He held her tight, finding new, undiscovered and wild pleasure in feeling hers.

And while she looked at him, reality changed between her hands.

A vision hit her.

She saw Ivar's face change slowly. She saw his hair grow and change, and his features become more mature and prominent. His eyes would remain the same, but adulthood and wisdom shined through his irises. That wholesome look, so lost in devotion, never disappeared. She watched the soft skin of his face change and gain scars.

And she wondered about them. How would he gain them? Were they battle scars?

There and then, Angrboda finally understood. Ivar was darkness. He was what hid in the shadows. What she couldn't see before, because blinded by the light.

And her future laid there, between his arms. Her future was in the darkness with him.

Angrboda tossed her head backwards freeing from her opened lips a pleasureful call for Ivar's name, in the exact moment her body found release, exploding in an orgasm that shook her deeply.

She buried her fingers between his hair, clinging her thighs around his shoulders, while he ate her up.

His name danced on her lips many times that night.

Angrboda took everything. She inhaled Ivar's desire and pleasure, and greedily looked to satisfy her own, over and over again.

And Ivar seemed to have enough desire and stamina to satisfy them both.

He was an eager learner, determined and hungry to discover everything Angrboda had to teach. He was both generous and avid with pleasure. As much as he wanted to have control, he would lose focus and melt when Angrboda took it from him.

Their desire and pleasure kept feeding off each other, growing, finding relief and then growing again - not letting them find any peace.

Ivar accompanied the waves of her pleasure slowly kissing the inside of her thigh, and then moved away from her. He lifted himself up and proudly looked down at her. His grey eyes danced on her body and sparkled in pride.

His hunger seemed to have finally quietened down, like hers. But the warm shadows that bent his eyes were still able to make her tremble.

A tired but immensely satisfied smile stretched on Angrboda's lips, queueing Ivar's movement when he cleaned his lips and chin off her pleasure with the palm of his hand. She took immense enjoyment in the idea of marking him, as primal and animal-like that thought could be.

Both their bodies were now marked by each other's pleasure, their skin presented scratches and bites, and in places the reddened signs of kisses that went too far.

Angrboda took the chance he gave her to move. She slid off his hold, turning on her side to stretch. Her muscles felt stiffened and tired. But her body and soul were pervaded by such a calm satisfaction. Everything and everyone was quiet.

She would still find it so difficult to understand, not quite able to wrap her head around what happened that night and how deeply she was now tied to Ivar. She wasn't expecting to melt between his arms so easily. Yet she literally caught fire and burned wildly for Ivar. And surely, she wasn't ready to find his love waiting for her.

They grew together, always so close, always so alike. But never, she felt a hint of what he felt for her.

How long was it going on? Were his feelings part of the reason why he picked her that night? Were they consuming? Would have they changed everything?

More than anything did she, or would she, break his heart?

All those questions filled her mind, buzzing around in such a confused hum.

It was frustrating. She was used to being a step ahead of people and reading them thoroughly. But Ivar managed to hide something of that magnitude from her for possibly months, years even.

And of course, it wouldn't be something she could just freely ask about, knowing perfectly there was a reason why Ivar hid his feelings. And kept them hidden.

Even now, his aura didn't show them. There was pure satisfaction, absolute calm and wholesome tiredness flowing in and out of him. There was even a sweet trace of devotion. But his love didn't leave any trace.

Angrboda decided that she wouldn't have thought about it. Or analyse anything until the next day would come. Even if her mind was difficult to stop.

That night it was just them and everything was simple.

Ivar crawled closer to her, accompanying his movements following the line of her spine with kisses. And she immediately melted under his touch, purring like a cat and stretching under him, with not many energies to do more than that. And it seemed that he was finally too tired as well. Even if she had to admit, she wouldn't have been able to say no if he wanted more.

Ivar fell heavily between the pillows behind her. He remained close, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her even closer to him. A movement that Angrboda obliged to, finding comfort in feeling his chest against her back. She sighed, feeling his warmth sliding under her skin. Angrboda curled up there, enjoying the silence broken just by the sound of their breathing.

The air was dense. It carried the electricity of the deep emotions that connected them that night. Anrgboda could clearly see it's darkened energy and what looked like lightning crossing it every now and then.

Ivar gently moved her long hair, placidly kissing her shoulder and neck and she moved closer to him, sighing.

"You are a witch." He whispered to her ear. His breath was so warm and carried so much electricity to slide under her skin with those affectionate words. "You did bewitch me."

Angrboda smiled softly and then turned to look at him.

For a moment, she was distracted by his charming features. The violent memories of how pleasure bent his handsome face, making his eyes sparkle like lightning hitting the sea surface, appeared in her mind. It wasn't quite enough to awaken her hunger. But more than enough to make her stomach vibrate.

Would that have to be a new situation she had to get used to now? A soft spot for Ivar? An affection with no explanation, that would remain suspended there, frozen in time and space?

She raised a hand in the air, and moved her fingers in front of his face, caressing his aura without touching him. Her fingertips vibrated under his energy that was now connected to hers. Angrboda felt his emotions on the palm of her hand.

She felt his future promise to the World.

His future still promised great things. His soul vibrated under the power that one day, Ivar the Boneless, the Scorch of the World would unleash.

He was chaos and order. He was just and tyrant. He was evil and sweet. He would love and hate. Dualism would always exist inside Ivar, becoming stronger, and stronger. And hard to control. Sometimes definite, sometimes confused - like his being. But that was what will make him the great Ivar the Boneless.

Yet those seemed both such close and incredibly far away days.

And she liked the idea of enjoying that moment and living in their secret, being just a boy and a girl, at least for a while.

"Did I?" She broke her own train of thoughts, imposing herself to stop overthinking.

Ivar just nodded, leaning in for a kiss that Angrboda didn't refuse, finding it almost surprising how soft he could be and act sometimes.

Angrboda smiled against his lips, then pulled away and moved her hand on his face, caressing his jawline.

The look he gave her seemed to pulse under the surface of his eyes. It was the kind of look dedicated to a lover.

That look made her stomach vibrate, even if she was trying her best not to pay attention to why that happened. Still she liked to be looked at that way. By Ivar.

Even if she knew it wasn't acceptable or even possible. Whatever energy connected them now would have soon disappeared.

She was herself in love with someone else. Yet the idea he would share that look with someone else was infuriating. Imagining him having that look for another woman made her jealousy grow and quickly become trembling anger.

Ivar picked her gaze crossing his eyes with hers, bringing her back. "Where did you go?"

"Nowhere."

"Your eyes. They became darker. Where did you go?"

Angrboda dropped her feelings, realising it was stupid of her to go crazy for a future possibility that wasn't more than a hypothesis.

And it wasn't fair. She had no right to be possessive.

She sighed, lowering her eyes trying to escape from him. "What do you think will happen, tomorrow?" She asked, of course not answering his question.

Ivar let her have her space, even if he sighed as a first response and his aura spiked in a certain degree of annoyance.

Then he paid attention to her words and for a long second, he looked at her. "I don't know. I'm gonna guess nothing?"

Angrboda nodded, lowering her eyes and offering just a timid smile.

She knew that nothing was an understatement. They entered that room as two people and would have exited it being someone else. The world would be changed. Even if maybe just Angrboda could see it. It was more than enough. And it was terrifying. "I don't think so. I think-"

Ivar softly pushed his fingers against her lips, trapping her words there. He shook his head, offering a smile that contained such a sad shade to it. His eyes sparkled with the same bitter-sweet look. "It doesn't matter. When the Sun will rise, we will be back to our normal lives."

Angrboda frowned, not sure those were the words she was expecting to hear. They were what it was supposed to be said. How things were supposed to go. Yet, why was it so hurtful to think about it that way?

That was what she wanted. To go back to normality and use her actions as an upper hand to fix her life... Right?

Because her plan seemed to have turned on itself. Thinking about it that way felt like she was ripping something out of her chest.

"Is that what you want?" Angrboda searched for the answer in his stirred seas eyes but didn't find much more than honour, resolution and grim determination. She could see clear as day the sheer line of the shield those feelings rested upon.

He didn't answer for a few seconds, while a sudden blast of frost covered them.

She could feel his breath moving, and his thoughts agitating. More than anything, she felt the spike of sorrow that crossed him.

His pain was hard to take in. Especially now. Especially if she was not allowed to feel which emotions developed around it.

She knew many things and felt so much that night. Enough to change the magnetism forces around her. She even had a vision, knowing for a fact that their future was connected, and discovered part of the meaning behind the Seer's words.

Yet. There was something blinding her.

She knew reality was waiting for them both once the Sun would rise.

Ivar sighed and rolled on his back, breaking contact with her. He gathered his arm back, closing his hand in a fist and resting it on his forehead, while he just looked up to the ceiling. "I think it's for the best."

Angrboda felt his heart creak under those words.

What she wanted, Angrboda could not say. Not anymore. Ivar essence now filled her completely, body, mind and soul. She didn't have the space to think freely.

Yet, the idea of detaching herself from him felt unbearable. But even the idea of leaving everything and throwing herself into his arms, burning through whatever feeling connected them, felt consuming. And scary.

"And I also think that Hvitserk is a lucky man." Ivar's sudden words surprised her. She wasn't expecting to hear them. Surely she didn't expect him to mention Hvitserk.

Part of her burned in regrets, at the idea that she actually felt like she cheated on him. Part of her burned in pure anger because Ivar thought it was a good moment to call his brother out.

She followed him, turning on her side and pinning herself up with her elbow. At first, she didn't say anything, she just looked at Ivar, but he didn't respond to the calling of her eyes. So, she slowly placed a hand on his chest, hesitant but determined to remain close to him. "Why did you have to mention him?"

"Isn't he important? Isn't he the reason why you're here? And don't lie to me."

"He is not the only reason."

"But he is the one you want."

"We cannot always have what we want." Angrboda lowered her eyes, expecting to feel her tongue twist and burn under the weight of spoken words that were too close to the truth of things she could not say.

Yet, as the freedom she could finally taste in touching another man, her words seemed to flow loosely.

Ivar sighed, still not looking at her. "Yes. I know." His aura still bent under the bitter taste of pain.

Angrboda could not do anything else but feel pushed to amend it and help. Even if she knew she was probably not able to give Ivar what he wanted.

He loved her.

Even if his feelings were now hidden from her not leaving a trace in his aura but sporadic emotions invisibly connected to it - like that spike of pain he just felt, Angrboda knew. "I don't want to think about him now. And I don't want you to either."

Ivar showed a timid smile and squeezed himself between his shoulders. "Ah, it's ok. He will be there waiting for you anyway tomorrow. Isn't he? I just hope you two will sort your shit because it would be a shame if it didn't happen."

He finally turned towards her, crossing her eyes. He offered another sad, lukewarm smile raising his hand and scooping her cheek in his palm, ever so softly. "You deserve to be loved."

Angrboda sighed to his touch and words. She pressed his hand against her own face and turned just to kiss his skin. Her eyes were low, she was unable to look at him, but his words touched her more deeply than expected.

It was like he was holding her heart in his hand and had the power to protect it, or crush it. Either way, she would have crumbled. "It's not that easy, Ivar. I-"

"Make it easy then. Or don't. Either way. I will hurt him in unhuman ways if he dares to hurt you again." His voice was as sweet as poison and as warm as fire. The look he gave her was strong and decisive, dark, extremely dark. In a way that made her soul tremble.

It was a natural reaction, to take those words and that look as scary. She should have been scared. But the darkness inside of her purred and stretched instead, and her stomach filled with butterflies. She wasn't scared. Quite the opposite.

He just promised horrible things. And she liked to know he was possessive.

He softly caressed her cheek. "Thank you, for what you did tonight."

Angrboda gripped her hold on his hand, hoping the look she exchanged with him burned enough to underline her thoughts and words. "No. Do not thank me. It makes it sound so transactional, so impersonal."

"But it was." His words ripped her from the inside. Angrboda clearly felt something inside of her shift and tear.

It was, it was true. And it wasn't at the same time. She didn't have words or thoughts to define what exactly happened that night. But he lived inside of her, now.

"It wasn't. I am honoured to be the woman you chose. And I will always cherish what we shared."

It felt too soon to say anything else.

Angrboda wasn't sure what her own emotions on the matter were. She felt such a strong connection with him now. But was it real? Or was it temporary? Was it the inebriation of sex, or was it more?

It was more. As the Seer words and her vision underlined. But was she ready to accept it? No. Not in the cool but confused state of mind she found herself now.

Angrboda felt the sudden need to be close to him. She wanted to make herself small, and find her way into his chest, to hide there and sleep comfortably and protected, until life would have found them again.

She leaned in to give him a delicate kiss, not necessarily expecting anything in return. "What are you thinking?"

She moved her hand once again around the invisible layer of his aura, caressing it with her fingertips. Ivar closed his eyes, resting his head on the pillow - it almost looked like he enjoyed her impalpable touch. "Must be really stressful for you, not being able to see everyone's thoughts." His lips curved in an amused smirk.

Typical Ivar's behaviour. She wasn't even surprised he dodged her question, honestly. Which possibly just meant he was thinking about something deep, possibly hurtful, that he didn't want to share.

Angrboda sighed, shaking her head. "No. I'm actually glad. At least my mind doesn't constantly explode in a million voices."

Which wasn't always true. But she was definitely ok with her gifts being what they were. The ability to feel thoughts didn't interest her. "So, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know. I don't know what's next. For me."

"You can do anything you like. Anything you put your mind to."

"I am just a cripple. What chances do I have? What possibilities?" The emotion that bent his voice, making it vibrate, and the pain he offered by his condition, feeling trapped in his own body, in his own life, suddenly stabbed her. He looked away, purposely avoiding her eyes.

Angrboda shook her head vigorously, moving closer to him. "You are Ivar the Boneless. Don't you ever think, not even for a second, not to be worthy."

He remained quiet. But the pain in his aura spiked and betrayed him. As much did his eyes, moving all around and not focusing on anything in particular, or the tension in his muscles and how uneasy his body felt. Angrboda moved closer to him. "The Gods have great things in store for you. Your future awaits you. You are a Son of Ragnar, you are a descendant of Odin. The world is there for you to grasp. Do not, ever, underestimate yourself, Ivar."

Ivar quivered at her words and then broke completely. He let his guard down while her words, full of truth and care, hit him right in his heart. His eyes filled with emotions, and his aura suddenly was overwhelmed.

He gasped, just a second before breaking in a cry of which hurt and endeavour exploded in the air and resonated through Angrboda.

She immediately was there to scoop him up, unable to leave him space, to make him feel like he was alone.

She pulled him in a hug and did her best to surround him with her small figure as much as she could, ignoring the fact that his body was way larger and heavier than hers.

Angrboda held him close, welcoming his head on her chest. She rocketed him gently, caressing his hair and supporting him, willing to be something he could lean on and cling to. She inhaled all his sorrows, hoping to take some of it away. "You are not alone. You will never be alone. Do you hear me? I will stand next to you."

"Don't s-say that."

Angrboda held him closer and rubbed her lips on his forehead, feeling their darknesses mix once more. She shook her head with intention, giving him a firm squeeze. "It's what I am bound to. You won't be alone. You're Ivar the Boneless, Scorch of the World, never forget it."

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jongnorp · 1 month

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WELCOME HOME, HWANG MIDEUM!

You've got the keys, unlock your new world!

NAME. HWANG "MIMI" MIDEUM. DATE OF BIRTH. 20000711. OCCUPATION. MUSIC STORE EMPLOYEE. NATIONALITY. SOUTH-KOREAN.

FREE FORM.

Hwang Mimi had never been normal. He was special, or at least that’s what he liked to think. Special felt like a nicer way to explain his emotional outbursts and obsessions with certain people when he was young. He just felt things much more than his peers, and children are meant to be emotional. It was normal, but better, he thought. Perhaps it meant his heart was bigger. Yes, he thought, my heart’s bigger than theirs. He had so much love to give, and that’s why leaving his mother to go to kindergarten every day was just so hard, and why he thought she’d never come back, that she was going to replace him with another child. He just loved her so much that being apart was difficult. Plus, she was just so sad about his father’s passing that she needed Mimi with her always.

But things became even harder for Mimi when his mother met a man who made her smile again. Mimi could do that, why did she need this man with his strange stories about someone called God? It seemed he was there to stay, though, as not long after this, they got married. The man was a pastor, and he talked so grandly about God, and his angels, and how Mimi needed to change, be better, listen more, talk less, move less, read that big boring book he bought for Mimi more, take praying more seriously. There were so many new rules to follow, and Mimi didn’t like it. He didn’t like this man, and he didn’t believe these stories he was telling him. He’d lied to his mother about how this God person could help with her loss, but now he kept saying he was Mimi’s new dad, and he wouldn’t even call him by the right name; Mimi had never wanted to be Mideum, only Mimi.

Children are never listened to, and so Mimi’s voice went unheard, soon even more drowned out by the crying of his new baby sister. At first, Mimi thought he’d hate this new baby, but the moment he laid eyes on her, he decided he needed to protect her. That was his baby sister. It was the one joy left for him in his family, after the pastor had stolen his mother from him.

Familial relations never got better for Mimi, throughout the years, his disobedience earning him endless punishments. But, he found solace in his sister's presence. They were best friends, and Mimi knew he could trust her; he’d learnt early on that he couldn’t tell his mother anything without it getting back to the pastor. He quickly adapted to talk as little as possible to his mother and her husband, keeping his head down and finding comfort anywhere they weren’t. His mother hadn’t been on his side since she met that man, so he’d given up on her. He’d snipped their connection off in his mind; she was a lost cause to him, and he needed no one other than his sister.

But as Mimi entered his teen years, and his interests developed, his passion for rock music became a massive issue for the pastor, and subsequently, his mother. That music is about worshipping demons, Mideum, you can’t listen to it. But when life sucked, what other escape did he have besides his music. Whether he was playing the bass, or listening to music with headphones on, somehow the pastor always knew, and he’d storm in to tear the headset off him, shouting about possession and demons and that Mimi was going to go to hell.

By now, Mimi was used to it. He didn’t care, nor did he believe in this ‘hell’ the pastor always talked about.

Oh, how he wished he’d cared a little more.

Stumbling into university, forced to study a Law degree that was turning his brain to mush with every passing day, Mimi found himself drawn into a rock band in dire need of a bassist. He fit perfectly, and soon enough realised that there was nothing else in life that Mimi wanted to do as much as make music. There was no way he could though, not with the pastor breathing down his neck. But Mimi was reckless, and soon enough his stepfather found out about the band. There was shouting, doors slamming, and threats, and yet Mimi didn’t fear the man, not now that he’d grown taller than him.

Two forced exorcisms and a few months later Mimi was being kicked out of the house, told not to come back, and not to contact his sister anymore. As the pastor shouted, he looked to his mother, and really saw her for the first time in years. His mother who used to smile, and laugh, and hold him to her soft body, was now stick-thin and pale, the light that used to flash in her eyes was gone, and Mimi wondered when his mother had disappeared. She was gone, and she wasn’t about to speak up for Mimi, take his side against this man who’d never been anything but cruel to him.

So, Mimi left. He took what he could carry, left some things with his sister, and moved whatever he really needed to a friend’s place, ‘just for a while’. For a while, moving from bench, to bathhouse, to friend couch, Mimi fell into a headspace he’d never been in before. Something terrible and dark, festering and cloying. It was inescapable, and reached its tendrils into every relationship he had, until he found himself in hospital for alcohol poisoning, and knew he had to do something. So, he enlisted. Regular meals, and a place to sleep for awhile helped him find some regularity in his days, and he got a handle on his brain for a while, but after being discharged, he plummeted once more. Back to where he was before, he found himself at a loss of how to exist. One diagnosis later and many months of intense therapy, Mimi found himself on the doorstep of a family owned music shop with a sign in the window proclaiming ‘help wanted’. Now, in a better place mentally, and with a steady, albeit meagre income, Mimi’s wondering if he can finally make something of himself, and perhaps reconnect with his sister.

#JONGNO:WELCOME #FC: CHOI BEOMGYU

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purplesurveys · 6 months

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1763

Let's take a survey I first took exactly six years ago and compare my answers then to now because that will totally not make me squirm!

What would you do if you found out you were pregnant right now? 2017: Mostly be confused as I’ve never had sex with a guy, let alone be alone with one…and just hope my parents take my side. As for the baby, I want to think I’d fight for my right to keep it, but I never know how I’ll respond to something until it actually happens to me.

2023: Yeah, I see nothing much has changed. I think I'll spend most of the time fighting for the fact that I am not in fact pregnant.

What would you do if your cell phone was stolen? 2017: I think my anxiety would eventually lead me to cry. Everything important and every memory is in there, so it’s pretty much losing like a year of my life.

2023: I'd definitely be panicking but I'd fight the urge to cry so I can act smartly and ask every nearby establishment for help and review their CCTVs. Can't afford to lose my phone considering so many tidbits from both my personal and work lives are on there.

What would you do if your best friend told you they were gay? 2017: This has happened to me and when it did, I remember giving her a blank look and saying, “Okay.”

2023: I would thank them both for trusting me enough to tell me, but I imagine I'd be very inquisitive with Angela. Asking her how'd she find out, how she's feeling, how she plans to move forward with her current relationship and all.

What would you do if I told you God isn’t real? 2017: Shrug, I guess? I knew that already.

2023: I wouldn't do anything different from what my 19 year old self said.

What would you do if your religion was made illegal? 2017: I don’t belong to one.

2023: I still identify as atheist.

What would you do if your pet got hit by a car? 2017: Go after the perpetrator. I would be so, so furious.

2023: Yeah no I wouldn't let that motherfucker go. I don't need their money so I wouldn't even bother about that, but I wouldn't be hesitating to give them hell regardless of the outcome for my dog.

What would you do if the world ran out of chicken fingers? 2017: Fortunately I don’t often eat those so it won’t be much of a loss to me.

2023: I feel like this would be very concerning considering this implies a bigger shortage issue for chicken altogether. Chicken fingers themselves I wouldn't be too bothered by, but I'd be worried about the larger domino effects of, like, the whole world running out of chicken. Is this mindset what it's like to become older? Hahahah.

What would you do if you lost your job? 2017: Be sullen. Maybe tell Gab at once.

2023: A very small part of me would be at least a little relieved because hey, I'd take any door to step out of my current workplace lol. But it definitely wouldn't be without me fighting for certain rights and benefits, like severance pay and support while I look for a new job.

What would you do if your best friend got an abortion? 2017: Understand. Be there.

2023: Still the same things.

What would you do if your father left your mother? 2017: Difficult question to answer. I don’t have much of a relationship with either, so it’s hard to picture myself empathizing with them. I think I am more likely to reach out to my friends for support than communicate with my parents ever.

2023: Oof, how times have changed. I would be very pissed with my dad because that's totally blindsiding the rest of us. I'd demand why he's suddenly made such a decision, but as the eldest daughter I think I'd also simultaneously racking my brain for ways to see how I could help keep the family together.

I'm not affectionately close with my mom so I don't think I'd have the capacity to be...around her if she cries or whatnot, but I would be silently watching over her and being on her side.

What would you do if your little sister was bulimic? 2017: I would feel bad. But I know she’s also much closer to her friends, so I’ll let her be; although I would keep an eye on her in secret.

2023: Be on standby in case she needed any kind of support from me, financial or otherwise.

What would you do if you only had a month to live? 2017: First of all I’d be happy lol. Then I would spend every day with Gabie, and majority with Angela.

2023: Resign with immediate effect and spend my remaining days traveling to wherever and trying the things I've always wanted to do.

What would you do if you were failing math class? 2017: This has happened to me several times, not an unfamiliar concept. I remember not really caring…it was high school and nothing you do in high school will matter one bit as soon as you step out of it. I did cry about in junior year though, when I failed geometry; but that was the one time it got to me.

2023: Yeah, math and I had an extreme love-hate relationship in high school but the overarching thing about it is that I just didn't care at the end of the day. I was headed to journalism school and in my head it was just like, "What are they gonna do about my failed tests? Prevent me from marching on my graduation?" lol.

What would you do if aliens attacked? 2017: Approach them.

2023: LOL, so bold. I'd probably find a place to hide but also accept my fate.

What would you do if your favorite show was cancelled? 2017: I don’t have a favorite ongoing show, and my all-time favorite ended in 2013.

2023: Possibility of cancelation is exactly one of the reasons why I avoid starting a show while it is still ongoing, haha. I'd rather jump on a series knowing it has an actual finale because I can't deal with cliffhangers.

What would you do if you found out your parents were having another child? 2017: I think I’d be pretty excited. No but I’ll be super honest, I’ll be such a mom to them HAHAHAHA. I looooove kids.

2023: Be in shock considering my mom has had her whole uterus removed.

What would you do if your phone and internet were disconnected? 2017: Not uncommon in the Philippines, a country with one of the worst internet connections. I’d be moping around the house, and I’d be more likely to hang at a cafe since that’s where all the wi-fi’s at.

2023: Yikes. Even my phone? Idk dude. I'd probably turn on the TV cos there would 100% be a bigger service provider issue at play.

What would you do if your house burned down? 2017: Ugh I hate this question. I obviously won’t be happy, and I think my mom’s choice would be to move back temporarily to our old house with my cousins and grandmother.

2023: Grab the dogs and think of step two. In such a situation I can't afford to be just another crying/stressed face in the family.

What would you do if you got lost while on vacation in a foreign country? 2017: THRILLED AS FUCK–as long as I’m with Gab. Getting lost is always an adventure for us, and in this case we’ll depend on the kindness of strangers. It’s a completely different story if I’m alone and ended up lost.

2023: Rely on data to help bring me back to familiar territory. If even data is spotty, I won't really have a choice but to just depend on the kindness of strangers like what I said, but I'll also have to rely on my gut as well to determine something like that.

What would you do if you got drafted into the army? 2017: That doesn’t happen here. Army’s an option, and it’s your choice if you want to attend military school in college.

2023: Go to my lawyer aunt and see if there is anything I can do to reverse the decision.

What would you do if your favorite band broke up? 2017: Oh come the fuck on. Paramore has been giving me the will to live since god knows when, don’t do that to me.

2023: If either BTS or Paramore broke up, I would obviously be gutted but I think at this point I would also be extremely happy for them. It wouldn't have been an easy decision to make, and so if they ever get to that point it's likely because they're already content – and that's difficult to get upset by.

What would you do if your parents had set up an arranged marriage for you? 2017: Not agree to it. It’s not their life?

2023: Laugh and decline. If they're being adamant about it I imagine I would set out on my own to escape.

What would you do if you lost all your fingers? 2017: I’d be bummed, but make the most out of my hands.

2023: Realistically, I could end up depressed and I'd take a while to learn how to cope with the situation.

What would you do if you found out you were adopted?I 2017: I guess I’d be relieved that I don’t have the same blood as my sucky family, but also confused at why they would want it to keep it from me for so long.

2023: I'm really grateful things have evolved for the better between me and my family; it pains me a little bit to read through what I initially said. Anyway, I'd think I was getting pranked or scammed or whatever. There's no way that'd be right as I look exactly like my mom lol. What would you do if your parents adopted a child? 2017: I would be happy with the new addition. It’s gonna be quite an adjustment, but I’ve always loved kids anyway.

2023: I'd ask them what led them to such a decision, and embrace the new addition/dynamic. I'd probably end up a second mom to the child because I am pretty protective when it comes to kids.

What would you do if there was a hobo following you down an empty street? 2017: Walk faster until I get somewhere more crowded. Or idk, text my girlfriend and try to look busy.

2023: Walk, walk, and walk fast until I see an indoor establishment, and enter that immediately.

What would you do if a cashier gave you too much change? 2017: Duh. Return it.

2023: I would still return it.

What would you do if everyone was looting stores during a blackout? 2017: That doesn’t happen here so I wouldn’t know how to react.

2023: Stay away from the chaos.

What would you do if your mp3/ipod broke and you couldn’t afford a new one? 2017: Those days are over my friend.

2023: Using my phone as an example, if it broke down I'd just temporarily use my laptop as a main channel of communication while I save up the money to have my phone fixed.

What would you do if you woke up in a stranger’s bed? 2017: I would be terrified and look for my phone immediately, so I can ask Gab for help.

2023: ^ Why were you so stupid? LOL. I'd get out of there as quietly as possible and run.

What would you do if your significant other was dying of cancer? 2017: I’d be a wreck, but I wouldn’t show it to her. I’ll be with her everyday, maybe before and after school. I’ll be with her family. I’d take her on dates in places we’ve never been to and if there are things on her bucket list that we can achieve together or that she can do on her own, we can do that as well. I’ll make her eat corn, mushroom, beans, and all the other food she hates because she would never be able to try them again. Basically accompany her as she lives her life to the fullest in that time span.

2023: ...Ok, Nicholas Sparks. But NGL all that crap sounded cute anyway so I'll keep that answer up .

What would you do if you saw a co-worker stealing from the boss? 2017: I guess if it were a first time thing I’d let it slide, especially admittedly if the coworker were a friend. Second time and beyond, I’d tell on them.

2023: Ugh, workspace drama. Honestly, I wouldn't do anything after the fact because no matter what I do someone is going to be pissed. I imagine the most I would do is to tell that co-worker to stop doing something so stupid even before they start doing the stealing deed, but if they still do otherwise then I'm noping out of that situation.

What would you do if I sang out of tune? 2017: Be glad you’re doing your best.

2023: Same! We can even sing out of tune together.

What would you do if your plane crashed in the jungle? 2017: Hope I didn’t make it?

2023: ^ I probably wouldn't, anyway. I just hope that if it had to end, it would end instantly and with little to no pain/discomfort.

What would you do if you got stuck in an elevator with your crush? 2017: Hold her hand and stand in silence since I’m already with my crush.

2023: If I was in an elevator with a celebrity crush I'd ignore them and hope they can get the fuck out of there as soon as possible cos I wouldn't be able to handle it LOL.

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seirosu · 1 year

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🔪 / 🌏 /🌙

𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒! (late)

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

rhea is a fierce protector , informed by loss and tragedy of her entire family and race . she doesn't simply tend to one who is hurt , she responds . her instinct is retaliation and revenge . a life for an eye . it may not be immediate , but she plots and considers how to best reach the source of her loved one's suffering . . . what she can and cannot do to make the message clear : laying hand on one of hers is to make an enemy of her . she isn't one to needlessly blame herself unless it is made evident that SHE is the perpetrator that hurt . contrary to popular belief , rhea is capable of spotting her faults and take responsibility ; however , when faced with something on the magnitude of the church (her) lifelong aims are wrong . . . its a difficult pill to swallow .

🌏 EARTH - will they give up the world for someone they love? is this decision easy for them?

hmm . . . well , i think it sort of depends on who the person is and where rhea is mentally at the time . the only times we see rhea really fall into the mindset of " i'm going to watch the world burn " comes in crimson flower after quite the . . . mental fallout . consumed with despair , rhea sabotages everything she sought to do : she stops protecting , stops valuing peace , stops caring about anything other than her despair . in that mindset she is giving up the world for someone she loves in a warped way -- her mother . HOWEVER , this isn't indicative of rhea's personality rather her weakness . that being said , rhea's world consists largely of a personal project and pursuit she's tended to for thousands of years , and in most routes she does give it up -- not just to anyone , but to the protégé who she trusts to do better than she had . she lets herself die , or otherwise passes the torch . so , i suppose she would . . . but not to just anyone she loves .

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

" ever since the tragedy at the red canyon, i have lived a solitary life. in an effort to fill the hole left by that solitude, i took up the challenge of reviving the progenitor god... i wished for you to become the progenitor god... i wished desperately to be held in my mother's arms once more... "

okay , so let me try and unpack this . rhea's past of trauma and lost has inspired a lasting sense of scarcity when it comes to her emotional needs of stability , comfort , and security . to fill these voids , rhea has dabbled in many methods ranging in ethicality and morality . does rhea want her mother back ?? well , yes , but it's not the root of her desire . the longing for her mother is really a longing for someone or something that once provided those needs for her , with sothis being the symbol of the moment she stopped feeling secure . she's performed blood rituals and experimented on living beings to try to either resurrect sothis , or otherwise create someone in her image . rhea doesn't need sothis specifically to find comfort , nor does she believe sothis is the only one who could provide lasting security . . . she's found others who have given her moments of security -- but they soon die due to their mortality and/or fragility and leave rhea back at ground zero , alone . ( aside : byleth is strong , which is why she inspires so much hope in rhea ) its never lasting -- its scarce . rhea wants to be relieved from this cycle .

and its clear that rhea really is desperate enough to try anything once .

#˖ ✧ hc » ( no matter how much love approached you got farther away )#these were FIRE to write <3 thank youuuuuu!!!

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marvellouslymade · 1 year

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On Harry and losing a parent in adolescence

I was twelve when my father died. It was an event which changed my life in ways I have seen and, no doubt, some I have not. Perhaps I don’t need to.

This is perhaps an even more personal blog than usual, and it is important to say that I am not writing it as a form of therapy. These events have long since been gently woven into the tapestry of my life, in which I trust there is much colour even if there may still be the occasional ragged end hidden underneath. However, as we all take stock after the furore over Prince Harry’s book, and the interviews, I wanted to look at an aspect which I think has not, perhaps, been given sufficient attention in all the media coverage. Perhaps that should not, sadly, surprise us. That facet is the effect of catastrophic loss.

Losing a parent in adolescence is known to have major and complex repercussions. The death of a parents is, of course, traumatic at any age, with different ramifications at each, but when it occurs during those multi-faceted, stormy and vital adolescent years, there are specific challenges with, sadly, a lot less research to inform us than there is into the death of a parent in childhood.

What research there is highlights that the loss of a parent at this age increases our risk of various complications in both mental health and functioning in general, in both the short and long term. It is equally clear that school, peers, the family and wider environment all play a part in determining how well we recover from the loss, if recover is the right word. Bereavement is, I think, like losing a part of your body. You can climb Everest with a missing limb, but life is never the same. In adolescence we already have challenges of life adjustments and developing our sense of identity: when we lose a parent at this stage, we are trying to navigate two very difficult and different psychological paths at the same time.

We know both from general research and from often underestimated common sense that the funeral is a key moment in the journey of grief. It is the last loving thing we can do for someone and although desperately painful, it is important both in its recognition of the finality of the change of relationship we have with that person and also as an opportunity to receive support from others. This later aspect is one of many factors which made grieving in the pandemic even more difficult.

My experience and Harry’s of the respective funerals could not have been more different. Those of us watching at the time will remember the desperate poignancy of him walking (with others, but as the youngest) behind his mother’s coffin, and the indescribable ordeal for both boys of the funeral being held in the glare of the media amid an outpouring of grief by thousands. Those others, most of whom had never met her, were in reality often mourning their own losses triggered again, or even for the first time, by her death. They wept too perhaps what she represented to them, together with the unfairness of the apparently capricious unpredictability of death. By contrast, I was not allowed to my father’s funeral, lest I found it too upsetting. Kindly meant, and I suspect such ‘protection’ is less frequent now, but it was ultimately unhelpful to isolate me from everyone at that time. It was not until my twenties that a friend gave me space to talk about the complexity of my feelings, and to take flowers to place by a tree at a local park as a farewell. To a much lesser extent though, I can dimly sense, in the tiniest fraction, the additional dynamic of losing a parent who others feel as if they know. Cornwall in the 60s and 70s was a small world. For years after my father died, at anything where my name was given people would ask ‘Are you Dr. Harrison’s daughter by any chance?’, followed by an anecdote of some kind by people who knew him, but didn’t really know him, not in the way I did.

It is well-documented that friends and peers are often the most helpful for adolescents who are grieving, not least as the family can be too caught in their own grieving. My mother was faced with massive changes as we lost our tied accommodation, so she had to quickly find housing and also to return to full time nursing after a break of nearly twenty years. Not surprisingly, she was caught up with managing our lives practically, and perhaps her own upbringing in an orphanage had not equipped her well to deal with a daughter whose grief was both very inward and, for various reasons, highly complicated. The school did, I think, inform the staff and pupils before I arrived - my brother and I were both sent to school the same morning we were told our father had died, just slightly later than usual. I was not seen by any of the staff other than in lesson time, and never individually – again, pastoral support was more patchy then than I hope it is now. The imploded nature of my grieving was also a confusion to my friends, my best friend on one occasion calling me a ‘hard-nosed b****’ because I had not cried. I realised she could not see the maelstrom which was happening inside and I could not explain my lack of expressed emotion to her. We remained friends. I was too busy coping with the other losses - a house move, a grandmother who lived with us dying just after my father died, and my dog being put down because it was thought necessary due to our change in circumstances. I had no room either to explain or hold any judgements of others. Harry recounts that he barely cried after Diana died, which was hardly surprising given the shocking nature of her death and the public nature of subsequent events I mentioned earlier. I may be doing Eton a disservice, but wonder what help he was offered, both there and in the wider family. He may recount it in his book – I have not yet read it, though I will. Sometimes I like to read or watch things later where there is a media storm, to have mental space to form my own uncluttered opinions. You don’t need to have read it to see, in every interview, a man who is still bleeding from the most severe of wounds.

What the research does show is that some people who lost a parent in adolescence believe that although they were forced to grow up and assume responsibility too soon, it has left them, as a positive, more empathic to others. I hope that has been the case for me, and certainly Harry has shown genuine concern to improve awareness about mental health. As a Christian, I believe in a God of redemption, who can take the darkest of experiences and work something of them that can be beautiful. That is the work, after all, of the cross. My prayer for Harry, as indeed it has been for myself, is that there is still a beautiful stained glass window to be formed even from the brokenness.

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healstars · 1 year

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tagged by: @ensnchekov tagging: @thecavclry (philippa!) @quantumstarpaths @tobeblamed @sunsymbols @aviophobic

— basics.

▸ is your muse tall/short/average? he’s a little taller than average for a uniocrn.

▸ are they okay with their height? he does find it annoying given many places aren’t built for quadrupeds let alone quadrupeds of his size, but his annoyance is more with the architecture and inaccessibility than his own height

▸ what’s their hair like? softest thing ever. long, slightly wavy.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/grooming? if he’s on a ship, yes. he tries to brush himself or get someone to brush him every other day and he does his hooves as needed. most of what he does for grooming is just because it feels good. he loves his big shower brushes that both massage and get his fur out. in the wild or on planets no. his hooves maintain themselves when he’s walking miles a day and he’ll only brush up against trees when shedding.

▸ does your muse care about their appearance/what others think? cabha does try to look relatively professional as needed, but he doesn’t have much control over things like the style of his mane or his teeth because he can’t/doesn’t do anything with them. most people are just in awe seeing him so they tend to find him stunning.

— preferences.

▸ indoors or outdoors? outdoors

▸ rain or sunshine? sunshine.

▸ forest or beach? forest.

▸ precious metals or gems? both.

▸ flowers or perfumes? flowers.

▸ personality or appearance? personality.

▸ being alone or in a crowd? it depends. unicorns are social by nature but most of cabha’s work is done alone.

▸ order or anarchy? order

▸ painful truths or white lies? painful truths.

▸ science or magic? both.

▸ peace or conflict? peace.

▸ night or day? night.

▸ dusk or dawn? dusk.

▸ warmth or cold? warmth.

▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends? a few close friends.

▸ reading or playing a game? games.

— questionnaire.

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits? cabha is terrible at self care. he heals till he’s sick because his patients and his work matter more. he’ll eventually get his energy back, but someone could die if he doesn’t help. he sharpens his horn on his hooves which is generally inappropriate in unicorn society. he’d eat till he coliced if unicorns could. he loves food and snacks.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them? not anyone close to him as in his family, but the herd has lost some and he didn’t need to know them to feel the loss. it was definitely an eye opener the first time a young unicorn went off to heed a distress call and came back with her horn cut off, in a metal bridle and bleeding out. cabha had always heard that the outside world was extremely dangerous to his kind, but that was the first he’d seen it. it made him rethink his want to leave for a good year or two.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has? looking up at the stars with his mother when everyone else was asleep. her telling him that he was born from of those stars and that each is a potential life. the first time he was alone on a new planet and he could just run for miles and explore. the first time he saved a life.

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill? no. cabha would much rather maim and disable than kill. he’s perfectly capable of killing, but there are only select instances in which he would. the person has to be a direct thread to him, his kind or his crew. anyone who’s personally wronged a unicorn is up for murder. he’s more likely to kill on accident in a fight given just how strong and fast and sharp he is.

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? it depends. on one hand, when he signs onto a crew he is intrinsically trusting those people with his life. but he generally has an out if something goes wrong. he can just go home. it’s much more difficult for him to trust someone when he’s vulnerable, can’t defend himself and can’t just leave.

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love? he’s nosy. he wants to be with his partner. he likes to put his head on them or have them pet him. he likes to just spend time with them not doing anything in particular. cabha in love is devoted heart and soul.

#; they will stare unbelieving (about.)#headcanon

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volterran-wine · 3 years

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Black magic - Caius (HC)

Requested by anonymous: “Can I ask a Caius hc where he has a child with witch!reader?”

Hmmmm, I have to say anon dearest that this is quite out there. Personally I like to keep things rooted within canon, in terms of world building. And I cannot remember witches being canonised anywhere in Twilight. At least not the traditional sort of witch. But I will try to write you something.

Warning: If you wish to see Caius as a struggling father with a semi magical child, keep reading I guess? Also this might take a darker turn... apologies.

If there was one thing Caius had not expected to happen in his immortal life, it was fatherhood. Regular hybrids were something they all were aware of, but he had always been careful. While he had indulged in a couple of escapades with humans... they didn’t tend to survive the entire night.

However this woman had not been quite ordinary, perhaps that was what had drawn him to her. Like a moth to a flame... Caius had been the prey for the first time in many years.

He had been made aware of the child when a letter addressed to him arrived in Volterra. It had taken every ounce of his will power to school his features from curious eyes.

A part of Caius seized up, dread filling his entire being. This was a high risk child, something entirely new they had no idea how would act out. The mother had asked for them to meet, and under the guise of midnight Caius was throwing himself head first into a future that all of a sudden felt so uncertain. The rational part of his brain told him to uphold their laws at all costs. It was his duty to make sure all potential threats to the secret would be ... dealt with.

But right there, not even 10 feet away from him stood a child that looked so much like him. It was uncanny, blurred memories from when he was human wanted to force themselves to the forefront of his mind. He pushed back as hard as he could. There was no room for sentimentalities when it came to this.

Now that he knew, Aro would know...see all the things Caius had seen. He trusted his brother with his life. But this was something none of them would be able to look past. But one cursed word made things all so much more difficult “Father” A feeling of protectiveness rose in him, he knew deep down that it would be impossible for him to simply move on and forget about this.

Caius for the first time in centuries, was at a loss about what to do.

I might want to do some general headcanons about what the kings would be like as fathers to “regular hybrids” at a later date. Those would be more wholesome... because this got a bit sad;;; I don’t want Caius to be sad.

#caius volturi #twilight #twilight renaissance #caius volturi x reader #caius volturi headcanon #in short: caius would have an existential crisis

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warriorsbutnotreally · 3 years

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Why Squirrelflight And Finleap Are NOT The Same - Discussion

I have a lot of opinions on this, do bare with me

because I can say now

if you put Squirrelflight asking Bramblestar about kits on the same level as Finleap pressuring Twigbranch

Assume I don't like you

Unless you have a legitimate reason to compare a domestic abuse victim to someone who was actively manipulating his mate to consider having his babies so that he felt 'like he could stay with her', I don't care what you have to say

Because there's a big difference and it's a little thing called context and power dynamics

That being said

disclaimer that I am aro/ace, so this is coming from the lens of someone who doesn't understand romance but knows a bad situation when I see one

///

tw; mentions of abuse and manipulation

Let's start with Finleap

As apprentices he has a cute friendship with Twigbranch and it's implied the two like each other as a little more than friends, though Twig doesn't seem ready for that commitment just yet

We first see the topic of kits come up in this conversation.

“I know.” Finleap spoke softly. “It’s scary having so much responsibility. And these are our first apprentices. But it’s okay for us to make mistakes and it’s okay for them to make mistakes. We’re learning together.” “But I’m supposed to know what to do.” A lump sat in Twigbranch’s throat like a stone. “Why?” Finleap wove around her and stopped as he caught her eye. “You’re a great warrior, Twigbranch. And you’re kind. You don’t have to stop being kind just because you’re a mentor. Trust your instincts. Push Flypaw when she needs pushing, but encourage her too. You must know how good a little encouragement can feel when you’re facing something new and difficult.” There was warmth in his gaze that touched Twigbranch’s heart. He really cared whether she’d be a good mentor. He wanted her to succeed. She purred and touched her nose to his. “Besides,” he went on, “mentoring will teach us patience. Imagine what good parents we’ll be when we have kits.” When we have kits! Twigbranch pulled away. Finleap’s gaze was misty. Was he really thinking about having kits already? They weren’t even mates yet. Twigbranch wasn’t ready to be tied to the nursery. She was barely ready to think about having a mate. She changed the subject. “Let’s check the border.” She didn’t want to hurt Finleap’s feelings. “Flypaw! Snappaw! This way!” she called to the apprentices, scanning the bracken until they appeared, then turned and headed along the trail toward ShadowClan’s border.

It's important to note the obvious negative reaction she has, even outside of her own thoughts. She was perfect fine with touching him until kits are mentioned. She's also quick to change the topic.

It's also implied here and in a couple other places that they hadn't even had this conversation before, as it's sprung onto her without any warning.

And if you don't believe me, consider this paragraph -

His confidence soothed her. He seemed so sure of himself. Even when he’d been pulling Puddleshine free, he’d known he could do it. He was sure they’d be mates too and that they’d have kits one day. And the thought didn’t scare him. Anxiety wormed beneath Twigbranch’s pelt. Then why does it scare me?

Twigbranch isn't ready for kits and the fact Finleap is shows that they're not seeing eye to eye on the issue. He's confident he wants to be a father, but she's not sure she wants to be a mother just yet.

He wants her to be on the same page, even if she isn't ready.

“I like it here, but I don’t feel like I belong.” Finleap glanced at his paws. “Which is why I want to start a family. Here, in ThunderClan. Then I’ll feel part of the Clan. I’ll feel like I have something here that is truly my own. I want to have kits.” “Kits?” Twigbranch’s mouth was so dry, she could hardly speak. Finleap watched her, his gaze expectant. “But you know how I feel about kits,” Twigbranch blurted. “I’m not ready. I want to concentrate on mentoring. I’ve told you all this.” “I know.” Finleap held her gaze. “But I need you to think about it again. I have to feel I belong here—that you want me. If you don’t ever want to have kits with me, I’m not sure I’ll ever feel at home in ThunderClan.”

"If you don’t ever want to have kits with me, I’m not sure I’ll ever feel at home in ThunderClan."

That's a really shitty thing to say to someone especially your bestfriend / girlfriend

"I'm worthless here unless you give up part of your young adult life to providing me with children"

This isn't even a Fernsong situation where he offers to live in the nursery when she's able to go back out. No. He wants her in the nursery with her kits.

Next time we see these two

She glanced at Finleap, wishing he would say something encouraging. “I’m glad Bramblestar picked us. What if it’s the last chance I get to see Violetshine and Hawkwing?” Please tell me everything will be okay. “I thought kin wasn’t important.” There was bitterness in his mew. Twigbranch flinched. Since he’d told her he wanted to have kits, Finleap had been distant. She always seemed to be the one to start conversations, while he only replied in short, vague phrases. Her heart ached, but what could she do? Promise to be his mate? Give up mentoring Flypaw so that she could have his kits? Anger pricked at her belly. He was pressuring her into something she didn’t want yet. But she loved him, and she could understand that he was acting out of unhappiness. If only he could find his place in ThunderClan. She’d planned to keep stalling—refusing to give him a straight answer—to give him time to adjust. But what if SkyClan left? It would force him to make a decision. Clan or kin? She changed the subject. “I hope Reedclaw has recovered from her cough.” Finleap didn’t respond.

Now Finleap is giving her the cold shoulder, being such a piss-ant about her not wanting kits that he's not even willing to comfort her when both their families might be being chased away.

And moments later

Twigbranch was unnerved. Sparkpelt had been her mentor. Had she always wished SkyClan would leave? Why didn’t I realize? “Do you think the other Clans feel the same way?” Finleap shrugged. “If they do, then SkyClan will have to leave.” Her mouth grew dry. Hearing Finleap say those words out loud made her realize that she hadn’t truly thought it was possible until now. But he was right—SkyClan would have no choice but to leave if none of the Clans were on their side. “I really might never see Hawkwing and Violetshine again.” Finleap didn’t speak. Didn’t he care? “Will you go back with them?” She stared at him, her heart pounding. “I don’t know.” He avoided her gaze. Was she going to lose her kin and her love at the same time? What would be left if they went? Feeling sick, Twigbranch followed her Clanmates to the tree-bridge.

Not only does he voice her fears out loud, but he doesn't deny that he'd stay with her if she isn't with him. This is a manipulation tactic and a very shitty and terrible one that that for him to use again the girl he allegedly loves.

At the end of the gathering -

“SkyClan!” Leafstar called to her Clanmates from the long grass. Harrybrook and Macgyver hurried after her. “We must go,” Hawkwing mewed huskily. He turned away. Twigbranch gazed frantically at Violetshine. “Is this the last time I’ll see you?” “I don’t know.” Violetshine touched her muzzle to Twigbranch’s. Her breath was warm in the chilly night air. “It’s up to Leafstar now.” “Good-bye.” Twigbranch could hardly speak. Her throat tightened as Violetshine pulled away and headed after Hawkwing. As she turned back to her Clanmates, she saw Finleap. He was watching Plumwillow and Sandynose disappear into the grass. She hurried to his side. “Did you say good-bye?” He didn’t answer. The sorrow in his gaze pierced her heart. “Are you planning to go with them if they leave?” She felt numb. He stared at her. “I love you, Twigbranch. But if you don’t want to have kits, I should go with my kin. At least I’ll be somewhere I belong, instead of chasing a dream that might never come true.”

His wording is honestly just terrible.

His dream with Twigbranch is only to have children with her. He may say he loves her, yeah, but according to himself, he's willing to leave her forever just because she's isn't committed to the idea of having babies with him.

I want to say this now

If someone you like is willing to ditch you because you don't want to raise a family, be it at the moment or ever? Leave them. They're not worth it.

You shouldn't feel obligated to have a family with someone.

After SkyClan leaves, Finleap decides to stay in ThunderClan.

Of course, his pity party isn't over.

In the days since SkyClan had left, Finleap had seemed uneasy. They’d talked after the Gathering and he’d decided to stay in ThunderClan. Twigbranch had been relieved. Of course Finleap was upset at losing his kin, and at first she’d tried to be supportive, but it was like he was clinging to the loss. He’d started to act as though he’d made the wrong choice. He’d begun to eat alone and go to his nest early instead of sharing tongues with the Clan. He was acting like an outsider. Frustration itched beneath Twigbranch’s pelt, growing stronger each day. How could Finleap ever feel like part of ThunderClan if he didn’t try to fit in? At least he’d stopped talking about having kits. Had he really accepted that they wouldn’t have kits until they were both ready? Twigbranch wasn’t sure the matter was settled. Part of her wondered if Finleap wished he’d left with SkyClan after all.

This is where communication between the two is an issue.

Of course Finleap is going to be upset that his family is, as far as he knows, gone forever.

However

He never once clarifies that he's only upset about his kin to Twigbranch, his girlfriend, making his breakdown seem torn between missing his family and not liking the idea that the girl he likes isn't ready to have babies yet.

Not only that, Twigbranch has a huge point here.

Finleap claims kits will make him feel like he belongs in ThunderClan. However, outside of Twig and the idea of kits, he hasn't done much to try to bond with anyone in the Clan. Even outside of the conversation about kits, he mostly interacts with his apprentice unless he's out helping someone.

He's not focused on making friends, or being a great ThunderClan warrior. His only focus is having a family with Twigbranch and nothing else.

Granted we don't see his POV, but we do his actions and what he says to the cats he apparently cares about.

Her talk with Tree expresses more of her concerns with her relationship while they're out trying to find SkyClan.

Twigbranch followed his gaze. “I can’t imagine having kits,” she mewed guiltily. “Finleap wants to already, but I’m not ready to give up being a warrior.” “You don’t have to give it up,” Tree reminded her. “Queens only stay in the nursery until their kits are weaned, don’t they?” “I guess.” Was she being selfish, wanting to focus on herself? “But I don’t want to worry about that yet. I like being a mentor. I’m learning so much every day.” “You’re young,” he mewed gently. “There’s no rush.”

For the first time she's being told that it's okay that she doesn't need to feel ready and that there's nothing wrong with taking her time on deciding what she wants.

Of course this leads to-

“Well done!” As Twigbranch purred admiringly, she saw Finleap padding toward them. He was carrying a bedraggled sparrow. It was skinny and looked more like crow-food than fresh- kill. He stopped beside Flypaw and laid it on the ground. “I was thinking that we could share this . . .” He eyed the fat rabbit lying, half-eaten, between Twigbranch and Tree. “But I guess you don’t need it.” Anger hardened his mew. Twigbranch shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize you were bringing me food. Tree just offered and I was hungry.” Finleap wasn’t listening. He was still staring at the rabbit. “I guess he knows where the best prey lives. This used to be his home. It’s easy to hunt when you know the territory.” Tree stared at Finleap coldly. “I could catch a rabbit anywhere.” “Did you used to catch rabbits to impress Violetshine?” Finleap mewed pointedly. “Or have you forgotten Violetshine?”

Immediately he's jealous of Tree because he was thoughtful enough to share a rabbit. And Warriors has shown us that there's nothing inherently romantic about sharing prey. It happens all the time and not specifically between mates or two courting cats.

It's a common social interaction between Clan cats.

But Finleap's acting like he caught them sharing a nest.

Tree had been hard on him, but Finleap had picked the fight. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, even though he was acting like a fox-heart. She hurried across the cave. Finleap was sniffing at the bedding, his pelt bristling. “Oh, so you can tear yourself away from Tree?” Twigbranch blinked at him. “What are you talking about? Tree loves Violetshine!” He glanced at her angrily and padded out of the cave.

He accuses her of liking Tree and when she denies, he walks away.

She chases after him and then this argument goes down

He stopped as he reached a swath of heather and turned on her. “I bet you don’t even want to find SkyClan! You’re probably happy to see Violetshine gone now that you’ve made Tree notice you.” Shock froze Twigbranch. “Do you have you bees in your brain?” She stared at him. “How could you say something like that? I would never betray my sister. And I’d never make Tree try to notice me. I told you! He’s just a friend. And he wouldn’t do that to Violetshine, either!” “You haven’t left his side since we left camp,” Finleap snarled. “I’m leading the patrol, and he knows the way!” Twigbranch snapped. “Every time I look at you, your muzzle’s in his ear.” “We were just talking! I’ve got to talk to some cat. Ever since SkyClan left the forest, I feel like I can’t talk to you.” Grief pressed in her belly. “I don’t know why you stayed with me. You’ve made it pretty clear that you wish you’d left with SkyClan.” “I stayed because I love you!" Finleap spat. “You’ve hardly looked at me. If that’s love, I don’t want it!” She lashed her tail. “You don’t know what love is!” He glared at her accusingly. “Of course I do!” Why was he being so mean? “I love you!” “Not enough to have my kits.” She stared at him, wind tugging at her fur. “Is that it? If I won’t have your kits, you don’t want me?” “I want you to love me enough to have kits.” Hurt sharpened his gaze.

Again what he's doing here is shitty and he's being jealous of another tom talking to his girlfriend, despite this tom just being a friend, all because he's being nice to her

Not a good sign

And, of course, the apology just sucks. It comes out of nowhere and it doesn't feel like he earned the right to be forgiven

he hurt Twigbranch, made her doubt what she wanted, and treated her like shit

`“But I thought you loved me.” He sounded surprised. “You told Violetshine you loved me very much.” “I do,” she mewed softly. “But not enough to have your kits. Not now. Maybe not ever.” Finleap glanced at his paws. “Let’s forget about kits, huh?” She blinked in surprise. “Forget?” “I was wrong, Twigbranch. Seeing SkyClan again made me realize . . . however much I love my kin, I love you more. I don’t want you to have kits if you don’t want to. I can live without them. But I can’t live without you.” Twigbranch stared at him. “Do you mean that?” “Yes.” Finleap’s eyes shimmered with love. “I’ve been so wrapped up in feeling hurt, I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you—or how much I was hurting our relationship.”

Now, not every character needs a grand realization

But

I don't think just a simple "I'm sorry" makes up for how he made her feel and the harm he did to their relationship and the fact it took this long for him to realize that his girlfriend his her own cat and not just a kit-making factory.

And this is one part of a very long story

Now let's talk about Squirrelflight

Specifically Squirrelflight's Hope, but I will also make references to Omen Of The Stars, as that's when her worse breakup with Brambleclaw/star happened where

may I remind you

he ignored her and treated her like garbage for many moons and when he thought there was a chance she might die was when he finally decided to make amends for her horrible crime of

*checks notes*

protecting her sister's kits from a system that punishes not only halfClan kittens, but the kits of medicine cats

"but she lied" I hear you cry

and to that I say

and?

Bramblestar lied about much worse things than where three kits came from and, may I remind you, he trained in cat hell with his very obviously evil dad who he had been judged for being the son of.

And cats lie in Warriors all the time and it's very rare that they're punished for it

and no, saying you find her annoying also doesn't justify anything

The punishment doesn't match the 'crime' here.

Let's get into Squirrelflight's Hope

The first time kits are brought up is by Bramblestar, him talking about it in a negative light.

... She didn’t feel old yet, but it had been a long time since she’d felt the rush of excitement she used to feel in her first moons as a warrior, whenever she was picked to go on patrol or attend a Gathering. She pressed closer to Bramblestar. “Do you miss being young?” He shrugged. “I miss being irresponsible. Back then, the only thing we had to worry about was our next hunt. That was before we became leader and deputy, and before we had kits to look after.”

Obviously, Squirrelflight doesn't agree there

Squirrelflight felt a pang of longing. Sparkpelt and Alderheart were grown, and she’d never had a chance to know their littermates, Juniperkit and Dandelionkit, who had died. She’d been hoping to have a new litter by now—tiny kits to nurture and love. But they’d had no luck. “Having kits didn’t make me feel old. I liked the responsibility. It’ll be good to feel that way again.” She glanced hopefully at Bramblestar. When he didn’t comment, she prompted him. “Don’t you think?” “Of course.” He didn’t look at her. Anxiety prickled beneath her pelt. She’d wanted him to sound more enthusiastic about kits. “Let’s pretend we’re young again now. It’s almost like we’re sneaking out of camp.” Squirrelflight kept her mew light. “Half the Clan are already in their nests, and the rest will be asleep by the time we get home.” “I wish we could.” Was that a sigh in Bramblestar’s mew? “But we can’t be late for the meeting. And we have to go straight back to camp afterward; Birchfall and Lionblaze will be waiting to find out what happened.”

It's important to note now that Squirrelflight wants to feel young and wants to feel important, something that she doesn't feel now as an older molly.

Things have been serious lately and she wants to lighten the mood, but this is brushed off by Bramblestar.

It should be noted that the leaders - and not Squirrelflight - are talking about how their Clans need territory because they have expecting queens. Squirrelflight has an internal reaction, yes, but doesn't say anything.

Bramblestar's also being a hardass here and Squirrelflight does have a good idea, but he's quick to make her feel bad about it.

“Might be.” Bramblestar’s tail twitched angrily. “Or it might be overrun with snakes, or dogs, or foxes. Warriors might die thanks to your idea.”

There was no sign the gathering was leader only. If it was, why bring non-leaders? And everyone had been having an open discussion about possible ideas.

But Bramblestar shames Squirrelflight for trying to be helpful.

And of course, we start reaching this scene

“But we’d all have bigger territories if SkyClan moved.” Squirrelflight hurried after him. “And you heard Harestar and Leafstar. The Clans are growing. There’ll be more kits by newleaf, more mouths to feed, more apprentices to train—” “More kits!” Bramblestar lashed his tail. “Is that all you think about now?”

She's not talking about her own kits. She's literally referencing something previously brought up by two other Clan leaders. However, Bramblestar turns this against her, lashing out about an already dead conversation that didn't last.

A conversation that he had brought up both the first time and this time.

His words stung like claw marks. She watched him disappear into the grass, her chest tightening. “Don’t you think about it?” She pushed after him, but he was already hurrying ahead. He was on the tree-bridge by the time she caught up to him. She followed him over it and jumped onto the far shore. She fell in beside Bramblestar, breathless as she tried to keep up. “Don’t you think about kits, Bramblestar?” “I have kits,” he snapped. “Alderheart and Sparkpelt? They’re grown up now!” “I know!” Bramblestar didn’t look at her. “They’re old enough to look after themselves. Why are you so desperate to be responsible for new lives? Isn’t being deputy enough?” “It should be, but it’s not.” Squirrelflight felt panic welling. “I’m getting older with each season. One day I won’t be able to have more kits. I just want another litter before it’s too late.”

Not only did he run off after bring this conversation back, but he continues to shame Squirrelflight after he stops running, implying that she's not content being deputy.

She's worried because she's scared that she's getting older.

The fear of growing older is a common fear and brushing it off as someone being irrational isn't fair to the person.

and to get to the scene where she's "like Finleap" according to those people out there with pebbles instead of brains.

“I know.” Bramblestar sounded weary. “And of course I want kits. Just not as much as you do.” Squirrelflight stopped and stared after him. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

She's not asking this to guilt trip or manipulate. We'd be seeing signs of that way before this question.

Instead this is given the context of being asked in desperation.

I remind you that Bramblestar had spent an entire arc being harsh and cold to her, making her feel small, and he had been making her feel small again, berating her and having her question her ideas.

He's being a piece of shit and she's scared that this is going to turn into all those moons of OotS again.

Even if she was trying to, the power dynamic isn't in her favor. Not only is he older than her, having been made a warrior before she was even born, he's the leader. He has 9 long lives ahead of him.

As shown here she's painfully aware of it, too

Bramblestar turned, his eyes sparking with exasperation. “Yes! But I am responsible for our Clan. And if the other Clans are planning to start up more trouble with SkyClan, I need to focus on that. I don’t have as much energy as I used to. I’m getting older too.” “No, you’re not!” Anger flared in Squirrelflight’s chest. “You have more lives than me—” She broke off as a realization washed over her like ice water. Was that why he didn’t care about kits? He had plenty of time to have kits in the future, maybe even with another mate, when she was dead. The thought made her feel sick. Bramblestar’s next litter might have a mother who wasn’t her. She stared at him, unable to speak.

She doesn't put it past Bramblestar to move on after she's gone, despite his older age and that was also proof in Bramblestar's Storm, where he was actively interested in courting Jessy.

Her fears here are valid. Not only is she older, but she only has one life to live. He doesn't.

And he's perfectly in the right to not want anymore kits

However, his attitude and behavior to his mate is absolutely terrible and instead of talking to her, he's belittling her and making her feel bad for wanting things.

And for having different opinions at that

His gaze shimmered suddenly as though he saw her pain. “I’m sorry.” He hurried to her side and pressed his muzzle against her cheek. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I was angry. I felt you weren’t on my side at the meeting. I was trying to protect SkyClan.” “So was I!” She pulled away indignantly. “I was trying to find a solution that would keep the peace.” “Maybe you’re right. But that isn’t the point. You’re my deputy.” His tail twitched. “You’re supposed to back me up in front of the other Clans. We need to look united. You know how quickly Tigerstar smells weakness, and how he exploits it.”

Then why make her deputy again?

“And you did the ShadowClan border patrol.” Squirrelflight’s tail-tip was twitching, though she kept her voice low. “And yesterday you trekked all the way over to RiverClan and risked your life rescuing that kittypet.” “So?” Bramblestar began to feel frustrated. “I’m fine. It’s not a problem.” “It’ll be a problem for the rest of us if our Clan leader collapses from exhaustion.” Bramblestar heaved a long sigh. “Remind me why I chose you to be my deputy,” he muttered through his teeth. “Because I won’t let you boss me around,” Squirrelflight retorted, her green eyes flashing. True, Bramblestar thought ruefully.

Oh yeah, cause he doesn't want a yes-man deputy

Or maybe he wants a deputy who only challenges him when it's convenient and/or doesn't make him look like an idiot.

Which is kinda

not great

“It looks a lot like weakness when a deputy disagrees with her leader in public.” Bramblestar shifted his paws. “You should know better! You should have discussed your idea with me in private and we could have taken it to the other Clans together.” “It might have been too late by then.” Squirrelflight paused. She didn’t want to argue. And besides, the issue with SkyClan wasn’t what was worrying her now. “I’m sorry I spoke up without talking to you first. But is that really why you said you don’t want to have kits?” Bramblestar gazed at her, his eyes round. “I’m sorry if I made it sound that way. I do want to have kits with you.” “Really?” Her heart lifted. “Yes. If that’s what you want.” Squirrelflight stared at him. There was resignation in his eyes. Grief twisted her belly as he stared back at her blankly. She turned away. I want you to want it too.

Here's where the argument that Squirrelflight, in any way, is equal to Finleap falls apart the most.

She doesn't need to be told that he doesn't feel the same.

She can see it in the way he acts.

She knows he doesn't and she lets the conversation die. Yes, she still thinks about how Bramblestar may move on and have a new litter after she's gone, but she doesn't talk about it, instead keeping her thoughts to herself, not wanting to rock their unstable relationship any more than it has been.

Most of this book has Squirrelflight second guessing what she wants and believing that maybe she was in the wrong for talking openly about a possible idea when everyone else had been doing it.

There's literally a scene where she's having what, in my opinion, feels similar to the start of a near panic attack where her thoughts spiral into a dark pit

But it hadn’t been just the kits he’d been upset about. She’d contradicted him in front of the others. But they were close to fighting! Squirrelflight flicked her tail indignantly. And I have a right to my own opinion. Her plan for SkyClan could be the perfect solution. She couldn’t have held her tongue even if she’d wanted to. Bramblestar had implied that a good deputy would have kept quiet. She shook out her pelt. Was that what Bramblestar thought—that she wasn’t a good deputy? Hurt sharpened its claws on her heart once again. She closed her eyes. Chasing thoughts like this wasn’t going to help her feel better.

The way Bramblestar spoke to her struck so deep that Squirrelflight feels selfish for having her own wants, as seen by her talking to her sister.

Squirrelflight let out her breath. Never mind the awkwardness—Leafpool will understand. And she needed reassurance. “He said he doesn’t want more kits as much as I do.” Leafpool’s eyes rounded with sympathy. “Oh, Squirrelflight.” Squirrelflight nodded. “I know. It’s—” Selfish of me, she was about to say. Because I’ve already mothered two litters. But Leafpool didn’t let her finish. “That must have hurt,” Leafpool said softly, dipping her head. “I know how much you want another litter.” “Bramblestar says he’s getting old and that the Clan is enough responsibility.” She trailed into silence, the memory of the argument stinging her afresh. “I’m sure he’d love kits if you had them,” Leafpool mewed. “But I can see how he finds the thought overwhelming.” Squirrelflight blinked at her. “Do you think I’m being unreasonable, wanting more kits? I know I . . .” “No, of course not. But you already have Alderheart and Sparkpelt. And, in a way, Jayfeather and Lionblaze.” Squirrelflight nodded, but her heart ached. “They don’t need me anymore.”

The power dynamic between Bramblestar and Squirrelflight aren't fair and, again, he's in his right to not want any more kits right now

but the way he spoke and made her feel like her wanting kits at all was terrible and that she should feel bad isn't the way to handle a relationship where two people have two different wants

And for more proof that Bramblestar doesn't make his deputy, who is also his mate, feel important

we have this line

And as far as kits went . . . Leafpool didn’t understand what it felt like not to be needed. Leafpool was needed every day. The Clan depended on her, sometimes for their lives. It was different for Squirrelflight. Even as deputy, she was just one warrior among many.

She's made to feel like another warrior, a replaceable cog in a machine, when Bramblestar had never been made to feel like that while he was deputy

In fact, in Squirrelflight's own words

"Who does Brambleclaw think he is, treating me like I'm still wet behind the ears? Toms are so much trouble! You don't know how lucky you are, Leafpool, not having to worry about things like that. Well I know there was Crowfeather..."

After becoming deputy his confidence and ego went up and he made it known that he wasn't just another cat

He was ThunderClan's deputy

But he never allows his mate to feel like that

In fact, he actively puts her down

He starts making up rules just to keep her in place and lashing out when she tries to fight back. Even when Squirrelflight is trying to be happy that Sparkpelt is expecting kits, Bramblestar brings up their conversation.

Yes, Squirrelflight did feel a little envious, she felt guilty about feeling that way and just wanted to be happy for her daughter

but he was the one who brought up how she wanted kits and he didn't, further making her feel shameful

he didn't even aid in comforting his daughter when her pregnancy brought pain after he sparked the fight with Squirrelflight. He was just watching as Squirrelflight helped their daughter, Squilf being the one to talk to her gently when she was worried about the intense craps she was feeling

When Sunrise, one of the Sisters, is actively dying, he refuses to allow anyone to help her until the medicine cats talk to StarClan and when they get an unclear message, he's more than willing to let her die

When Leafpool refuses to allow this, he actively challenges the medicine cat in front of the entire Clan and Squirrelflight snaps to her sister's defense once more.

Squirrelflight held her ground. “I have to do what I think is right.” “Even if it costs you your Clan?” “ThunderClan is stronger than that,” Squirrelflight spat. “At least I hope it is. If our future depends on letting a cat die, then it’s not the Clan I thought it was.” Bramblestar stared at her. Uncertainty glittered in his gaze. “Why are you doing this to me?” His words pierced her heart. “You’re my deputy. You’re my mate. You’re supposed to support me.” “Being a good deputy doesn’t mean blindly following orders.” Squirrelflight didn’t move. “It means standing up for what I believe, and this time, I believe I’m right.” The camp seemed to swim around her. She knew she was hurting him. But she had to convince him. As the Clan watched her silently, their eyes round in the moonlight, Bramblestar backed away.

Bramblestar tries to manipulate her and that's where the big power dynamic comes in

he's the leader

he's older

he had gone out of his way many times to make her feel small and weak compared to him, even imposing reckless rules just to try to keep her where he wants her

he wants to use her emotions against her

and when she refuses to let him hurt her more

he strikes her with more sharp and hurtful words

Around him, the Clan got to their paws. Mousewhisker and Twigbranch helped Tempest and Hawk lift Sunrise. Leafpool nosed her way into the medicine den. Bramblestar narrowed his eyes, his face like stone. Squirrelflight tried to drag her gaze from his, her heart cracking as he curled his lip. “StarClan wanted unity among the Clans,” he snarled. “Thanks to you, there’s not even unity in ThunderClan anymore.”

“Thanks to you, there’s not even unity in ThunderClan anymore.”

because she didn't want an needless death, he blames her for the discourse he created

this is only a portion of the Squirrelflight mistreatment in this book, but it's all that I'm going to mention since it deals with the topic at hand

and of course we know she decides she doesn't need more kits after all

but what I want to say is

these two stories aren't even

Finleap is manipulative and tries to make Twigbranch feel like she needs to have his kits to prove she loves him or to keep him around

Squirrelflight wants to have more kits, but is made to feel like her needs are selfish and that she should feel bad for these feelings

Twig and Bramble are valid for not wanting kits just as much as Fin and Squirrel are valid for wanting them

However, Finleap isn't in the right for pressuring his girlfriend to marry him and have kittens when she isn't ready

and Bramblestar isn't in the right for shaming his mate for wanting more kits and making a scene out of their relationship problems

and before any incels find this

their genders wouldn't matter in this

if Finleap was a she-cat harassing the tom she liked to have kits with her to make her feel like she belonged in a Clan, I'd still feel the same way

if Squirrelflight was a tom who wanted more kits, but his female leader mate berated him and made him to feel guilty for wanting that, I'd feel the same

it's not about toms and she-cats, men and women, or whatever terrible black and white gender binary lens you're looking through

it's about two different types of shitty mates in two different situations

those being Finleap and Bramblestar and their manipulation of Twigbranch and Squirrelflight respectively.

#discussion #finleap #twigbranch #squirrelflight #bramblestar #warriors #warrior cats #cw; mention of abuse #cw; manipulation #cw; finleap and bramblestar are terrible in canon #and their redemptions are half-assed cause the erins still want you to root for terrible couples

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slipper007 · 3 years

Note

p ☀️art museums: what’s your favourite museum, or type of museum? 💕💕

☀️art museums: what’s your favourite museum, or type of museum? (doing this)

Word Count: 1,864

Also on AO3 [masterpost]

Two years after the world didn’t end, Team Free Will 3.0 started traveling.

They didn’t always stick together, or even stay in the United States (Sam and Eileen made the trip to Ireland), but they knew they all still had a home in the Bunker.

It was simultaneously freeing and terrifying to be in control of their own fates, something that Sam, Cas, and Jack had all taken in stride. While Eileen struggled at times, Dean was the only one held back by it, as much as he tried not to be. The moment he had first realized that his life was not his own, he’d fought against it out of instinct and righteousness, but now that he had it…

As much as Castiel and his brother both assured him that he was who he was on his own terms, rather than whatever Chuck’s machinations had wanted to him to be, he worried he didn’t know himself. He was just as adrift as he had been in his teens and twenties, desperately trying to emulate his father in order to find a sense of self; as he had been freshly back from hell, violent and afraid of everything he had done and become; as he had been standing in that graveyard with God telling him to kill when he knew revenge wasn’t what his mother would have wanted and wasn’t what he truly wanted.

Castiel had told him in his confession, his brother in several passing speeches over a lifetime, and Dean himself had said it straight to God’s face, but was it true? Who or what was he outside of saving people and hunting things, outside of the narrative Chuck had constructed his entire lifetime?

The vastness of the question was enough to make anyone spiral, so he tried to avoid it.

Charlie helped when she came over. With Sam and Eileen abroad, and Cas all too willing to have deep conversations Dean wasn’t ready for as much as he loved him, she and Dean became closer. She had been staying at the Bunker for a time, not long after Jack and Billie brought her back. She, too, was finding it difficult to adjust to the new world they found themselves in – she had tried for a full year and a half to get her legs under her on her own, but the world had changed in the six years before she had been brought back. Even though she had managed to reinvent herself numerous times before, it was difficult. The Winchesters were more than willing to offer her a place to stay in the meantime.

It worked well for everyone, though it was particularly chaotic now that Sam and Eileen were taking a brief vacation abroad. Dean was constantly with his two best friends (one of whom was his lover), as well as Jack. Charlie and Cas had become close, something that Charlie had deemed “WLW/MLM solidarity” (neither Dean nor Cas knew what that meant). To Jack, Charlie had taken the role of cool aunt, which was both wonderful and terrifying in equal regard, especially given that Jack was, at this point, back to being in a body his own age with his original powers rather than those of a god. The combination of a super-powered six-year-old and a nerdy LARP-enthusiast was certainly an interesting one, especially given how their energies fed and built on each other’s.

It was this merry band that found themselves inside an art museum one hot August afternoon.

Charlie and Dean wandered the lower gallery for a short while as Castiel took Jack through a more kid-focused section, and for a time they wandered in silence.

“So how are you today?”

“You live with me,” Dean responded, only to be faced with a shrug. “How are you?”

“Today’s been good,” Charlie said with transparency. “I woke up again. Started sewing more of my Triss costume – from The Witcher video games, not the show, you know? Now I get to hang out with friends and see some pretty cool art. Maybe I’ll apply for another job today, or bake some bread, or we can finish getting me all caught up on Game of Thrones.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Dude, spoilers!” She looked straight to him, and Dean shook his head. “Anyway, you’re dodging the question by asking about my awesome life. Not cool, so spill.”

Dean sighed as he walked by another painting of fruit. “I don’t know, Charlie. Could be better, could be worse.”

“Figured out who Dean Winchester is yet?”

“Do any of us truly know who we are?” Dean quipped back.

“Really?”

“Lil’ existentialism never killed anyone,” Dean said with a shrug. “But no, not yet. It’s all still just a big…mess…of what’s him and what’s me.”

“Well, here’s a start for you: Dean Winchester is my friend, and always will be, regardless of whatever some crack writer says.”

“Pretty sappy, but I’ll take it.”

“Shut up.”

Dean Winchester is a friend.

When Cas and Jack rejoined the pair a little later, they all wandered up to the 12th to 19th century European gallery. Jack and Charlie broke away when they came across the tapestries. Castiel, however, was drawn to a painting a little further in. The gallery was still and quiet as Dean joined him.

“St. Sebastian, huh?” Dean said, reading the label. “Know him?”

“My memory of 200 BCE is muddled at best,” Castiel said. “I don’t think so. The painting is beautiful, though, if tragic.”

Dean looked at it again, trying to see what Castiel saw. A beautiful mouth was twisted in pain as arrows lodged in the body, unstoppable. The arms were contorted and restrained, rendering punishment inescapable. The eyes were wide and dark, looking upwards as if begging for divine intervention that would never come.

In it, he saw himself. He saw his struggles with faith in a higher power, with the needless suffering he and his little family had been put through. He saw his loss, his fear, the control he lost when he realized he would never be free from Chuck. What he didn’t see was the anger.

Beyond that, however, he saw Castiel. He saw Cas’ expression when the Mark had worn Dean down, when he had thrown Cas to the floor along side the corpses of the Stynes. It was the same loss, the same fear. The expression was akin to brokenness yet not shattered. He was still faithful, still true. It was the same look on his face when he had confessed in the dungeon. Beautiful but tragic.

What had Dean ever done to deserve that resoluteness, that level of trust in spite of the fear.

“I’m sorry,” he started, words catching in his throat. How did he even begin to make up for all he had done? Yet, it was as if Cas had read his mind. Hell, he was an angel. Maybe he just knew.

Castiel turned to him, a familiar softness in eyes not tainted by pain or prayer for intervention. Dean could lose himself in the deep blue seas.

“You’re forgiven. You’ve been forgiven.”

They stood side by side, listening to Jack’s squeals of joy only a room over, for several minutes before Castiel spoke again.

“You’re unsure of who you are,” Castiel said. It was a fact they both knew, even as Dean started to protest the topic. “I’ve already told you what I think, but let me remind you. You’re the single most loving person I have ever known. You love in spite of Chuck. You care about this broken world, even when it seems hopeless. You always have.” He paused for a long moment before saying, “In plainest terms, you’re a lover, not a fighter.”

“I don’t know about that one. Can’t I be both?”

Castiel let out a long-suffering sigh at that before wandering away to look at the other paintings.

Dean stayed by the painting of St. Sebastian for another few minutes, trying to see what Castiel saw in it before hearing Jack call for him a little way away, his high, childish voice carrying through the halls.

Dean Winchester is a lover.

Downstairs, there was a special exhibition on the history of dance. Jack practically dragged Dean in, his eyes wide and excitement palpable. Charlie and Castiel laughed and promised to catch up in a few minutes – Charlie wanted to grab a print of an art piece from the museum store. Dean and Jack wandered from exhibit to exhibit, looking at everything from classic vinyl to tap shoes. Despite the artifacts and objects, news clippings and sound bites, Jack was fascinated by a video of people swing dancing projected on the wall.

“What’s up, kid?”

“I wish I could do that.”

“You can,” Dean said. “You just have to do what they’re doing.”

Jack looked up to him, eyes wide and a broad grin starting to cross his face.

“Will you show me?”

It took a little bit of practice, and they missed more of the moves than they got, even with Jack standing on Dean’s shoes, but they both enjoyed what they were doing, which made it worth it. Jack’s smile as he danced up to Charlie and Castiel a few minutes later made it all the more precious.

“Come dance with us!” he called out before rushing back over to where Dean still stood.

“Having fun?” Cas asked as

“Cas!” Jack called. “Come on, come on, come on!”

Castiel smiled and shook his head before turning to Charlie and taking her hands. They instantly fell into sync with the video, matching the moves in perfect synchronicity. Dean felt himself stop in shock as Castiel flipped Charlie over his shoulder as if it was no great feat.

“Woah, when did you learn to dance like that?”

“I do have some memories of watching humanity. I was even on Earth when this dance was invented.”

“And I took dance lessons a few years ago,” Charlie offered by way of explanation.

“I guess we’ll just have to up our game, huh Jack?”

Jack giggled, his gap-toothed smile looking all the more excited. They busted out a few new moves, even improvising for a while.

“Dude, you dance like a dad!” Charlie laughed, twirling Castiel as she did so.

Dancing there in the museum, Jack on his feet as Castiel and Charlie watched on, Dean came to a final realization of the day.

Dean Winchester is a father.

As the day drew to a close, the group started to head out. Jack clung to Dean’s back, wiped out after a long day of dancing and wandering the museum. He watched the birds fly overhead in the golden light as they wandered to the car. Cas took the backseat with Jack, who promptly fell asleep.

“This was fun,” Charlie said, setting the bag with her art print on the seat between her and Dean. “It’d been a while since I’d gone out like this.”

It had been fun. It was nice to enjoy the world rather than save it.

Even if he was still working on figuring out who he was, Dean finally felt content.

#fluff #domestic fluff #supernatural #spn fic #dean winchester #castiel #charlie bradbury #jack kline #kid!jack #spncreatorsdaily #creativecavier #userdee #userstarry #userpris #rambleoncas #tuserari #usershey #slipper007writes

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camslightstories · 3 years

Text

Tolerate It - Part 13

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader.

Notes: Hey! I hope you guys are doing great and if you are not I promise things get better. I’m sorry I haven't updated but its just work and home are being hectic but I’m trying to get everything in track again. This chapter took an awfully long time write, i hope you guys like it!

My inbox is open for suggestions, recommendations, questions, and more. If any of you need help I will be honor to help you, always! Please fill my inbox with theories, comments and more i wanna hear what you guys think of the story! Hope you have a great day!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett @aznblossom @venteen @coxmicbabygirl @lezzzbehonesthere

The smell of fries and burgers invaded your nose as you sat on the floor, glancing at your sore hand. Your legs extended on the floor as you held your head against the column of the place. The uncomfortable ache on your hand had seemed to increase by the second, as you sat down.

Confusion was the main thing in your head, the confused heavy feeling in your chest when you close your eyes, the twisted and ached void confusing you when reality sets in. It felt like a war between your mind and heart that neither of the two you understand. It felt like the reasons that your brain had were now gone, the reason part of feeling nonexistent.

“Didn't think I would see you so soon” You claimed when you felt the presence of the brunette behind you. Two bags in her hand as the archer sat beside you.

Thea replied teasingly, and flirtatiously grabbing fries from her bag, after hitting you softly in the shoulder. “Neither did I, princess”

“Thanks” You whispered as you started to eat, both of you sharing a knowing and somewhat comforting. The Queen woman smiled and kept silent giving you a nod.

Thea had known you for a long time, but not until three years ago she saw you as her older brother’s best friend. She and Talia had taught every skill, you needed and wanted to learn. She had seen you put all of your anger everywhere you could. You were there subtly with alcohol after every break-up and make-up she had with Roy, showing your care as you sat with her drinking in silence until she couldn't anymore.

The small creek sound of the door took both of your attention. Your mother stood silently with a white medical kit in her hand and an understanding expression on her face. You glanced at the brunette beside you, meeting her glance. A small spark in her eyes which you had never noticed before, you stopped in your way to comment on it when you heard the knowing clearing throat of your Mother.

“Can I come in?” The Queen woman smiled reassuringly before leaving the room. Your mother stood at the side of the door, watching curiously and carefully before speaking.

You looked up and met her eye glance, giving her a small nod as you spoke almost inaudible. “Sure”

Your mother had been making the small notes, and remainders when she saw you. She couldn't lie about the fact that her heart joined in joy and broke in less than 24 hours. It had been difficult to maintain a straight face when your oldest sister called her explaining the situation, letting her know and Jeremiah that after days of trying, they were the last option to bring some feelings to you.

She saw your father way too comfortable yet nervous when they got the news, the trip had been too questioning and secretive that she suspected something had happened with the two of you. But seeing you with her own eyes as you stood in the room with void eyes, and rage protecting your walls.

The complete silence from your party told her more than you knew. The isolation, the hidden pain, the calm and silence. It all reflected in one thing and it was you trying to understand your feelings, your world, yourself. It had happened when your dad had supposedly died. The heavy feeling in her chest grew as she sat beside you, while you stared at the wall quietly debating with your thoughts and feelings.

Flashback - February 2005

You sat in the backyard of the house, dressed in black attire. Your eyes watching over the waves as they ended in the sand. The way the breeze moved the palms and softly touched your face. Your hands gripping the blanket covering you.

You waited for everything to process in, you waited to wake up, you waited for him as you walked down the stairs that morning, you waited for your sisters to tell you it was a lie, you waited for your mom to serve his favorite lasagna as he came back home, you waited for the sound of cheer when he and your oldest sister finished repairing another part of the old car, you waited for him and Kara coming back from the forest at night after watching the stars, you waited for him to sit on the small bean bag of your bedroom as you played him something new in your instruments, you waited for the loud laughs and scolds that would come after you and your sisters would create an eating contest ending with Kara smiling proudly as you and Alex throw up, you waited for the ‘pizza and tacos night’ where the five of you somehow cooked without burning the kitchen down, ending with a marathon of movies and smiles on everyone faces. But it never came.

The distinct voices from the house gained your attention as they felt closer. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the waves failing in the attempt. Turning around to see both of your sisters standing side by side as one of your family members expressing their condolences to them. Kara seemed to keep it together as she nodded shyly, while Alex clenched her jaw giving a small thanks before walking away, your blonde sister watched the redhead walk away before looking at the floor excusing herself too.

You looked away back to the beach, before deciding to get up and walk down the small hill entering the beach. Taking off your shoes, you put them at the side of the beach entrance before wrapping the blanket tightly around you. The voices began to zoom out and the sound of the ocean began to fill your ears. The soft sand on your feet as you walked closer to the shore felt grounding. The soft breeze that moved your hair out of control felt comforting as you sat down.

Burying your feet in the sand as you closed your eyes trying to remember something, to have something to hold on to. It felt weird, out of place, like something was missing. Your mind tried to wrap up with the fact that your father was dead but even if you knew what was happening, you still had questions. Sitting on the sand, you stared blankly at the ocean, as the waves came, as the breeze moved the palms and touched your cheeks, as the soft salty smell invaded your nose, and the coldness of the day began to increase.

It was like a debate between what you wanted to believe and what was happening. There were running thoughts in your head that made you feel exhausted. It was unpleasant and even tiring to think of how this event would change your and your family's life. You avoided the thought as much as you could, wishing and hoping to wake up from the nightmare but it was real and as much as you didn't want to accept it, your father was gone, and he was not coming back.

You didn't even realize when the sun that was high in the sky had come down and reflected in the ocean, you didn't feel the breeze and air get heavier or the way the only thing illuminating the night was the light bulb you dad put at the entrance of the beach.

It felt like time went in seconds, long seconds that you wished to take back and at the same time to move faster. It wasn't easy, it didn't feel easy, and the hole in your heart was unmistakable. You weren't a person who liked change, nor a person who easily understood what was going on around you.

Sure when Kara came into the family, it was like the missing piece. It didn't take you long to warm up to the blonde, but she was suffering from the loss of her planet so you stayed behind the doors and waited the right moment to comfort her and make her as welcome as you could. You saw her hesitate when she was doing something that would make her happy, you saw her doubt herself as Superman came into the news, you saw her shed tears when she tried to find where Krypto would be.

You tried constantly to win her affection, her trust, her intelligence, and more but you couldn't make her happy if she didn't heal. So you stayed awake during the night waiting to comfort her, you played with melodies on the piano so she could have a similar bed song as she had in Krypto, you ran as fast as you could after school to help her with her English or to watch and sing along with Wizard of Oz. You keep trying and trying even though she was legally your sister, you wanted to have a connection with her just like you did with Alex. So when the blonde the morning of your birthday hugged you and in English told you, you were her sister and she could be prouder than to call you that, you shredded in tears hugging her closely.

But it was different, everything was different, it felt different, it sounded different, it even tastes different. There was a silence between your family, Alex kept her feelings inside and bottle them in trying so hard not to break, mad at the world, mad at dad, at you, at your mom, even Kara. Your mom was understanding but quiet, she tried to be your and your sister's rock during the day but at night you can hear her crying her heart out. Kara kept silent, mad at the world for taking another person from her, holding you close trying to be helpful as much as she could even if she was hurting as much as she was when she first landed. And you, you kept quiet, trying to understand, trying to find the lie, trying to reach and understand your feelings but couldn't. So you waited for the time to pass by and for things to get in order, just like your dad used to say ‘time heals things, everything gets better with time’ but as the words rounded your head you couldn't feel more than the biggest lie of the world.

Flashback ends

The soft wrap with alcohol against your knuckles ached as your mom determinately disinfected your hand. You felt her eyes constantly glancing at you when you kept silent, trying to ignore the slight throb from the small wound in your hand. You glanced from the wall you stared continuously into her eyes, before speaking. “I tried”

“I know sweetie” Eliza looked up while finishing wrapping her hand before speaking in a motherly tone. As soon as she heard you talk she knew, she knew what you meant. Just your silence gave it away, she knew your conflicted feelings weren't going to help now and they didn't before, but what scared her was how long you were going to take to heal, to flash a familiar smile, to laugh until you couldn't anymore, to look at the eyes of your significant other, to sign with your older sisters until either of your throats wouldn't give more.

Fighting back the tears your eyes had swollen, you claimed again making eye contact with your mother, your mother's eyes redating with comfort and sadness as she looked at you. You clenched your hand into a fist but immediately opened it again when you felt the strong throb in your knuckles. “I tried, and it didn't work out. It didn't do anything”

“Healing isn't about not feeling sad or feeling numb, it's about letting in, letting go, and finding yourself again but you can't do it if you are not ready for it” She answered brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

And the understanding in her eyes and voice made you doubt, as your feelings started to fall in place. Heartache, anger, sadness, disappointment, pain, and more began to feel your chest and your mind as you took the words of your mother in. Your now bloodshot eyes looked away from her as you felt your lip tremble.

You nodded quietly, and before you knew. You threw your arms around your blonde mother, tears furiously leaving your eyes as she soothed you, with comforting and reassuring words. Your head was hidden in her neck as you cried your eyes out.

The feeling of heartbreak and pain overwhelming you as everything started to come down on you. And you wanted to cry, for minutes, for hours, days, weeks, even years. Because somehow after everything you still didn't feel enough, you felt everything you did was wrong, that you could have been better and you could have changed differently, closing your eyes you wished for it to be gone, but deep down you knew it wasn't.

“Please just make it stop, mom. Please, it hurts so much”

Flashback - February 2005

“Please just make it stop, mom. Please, it hurts so much”

You don't know how it happened or how long you had been furiously crying until you stared at the small seashells in the sand getting wet thanks to your tears. The once beige shell now was white. Grabbing the seashells from the sand, you started to throw them angrily at the water.

The sound of the rock making contact with the water somewhat comforted you, longing to throw everything away for it, for the broken shells to absorb your problems and leave with it. Soon enough you fell to your knees sobbing out. As the night lighting shot in the ocean, as the ocean tide had gone up, the once breeze became violent air.

One second you were crying furiously on your own, and the next you sobbed into your mother's arms, as she reassured you that everything was going to be okay. You gripped her shirt hugging her closely before looking up to her, touching your chest as your bloodshot eyes glanced in hers.

Your lip trembling from the cold and your sobs, her heart broke, even more, when you hid in her neck which made her look up as she soothed your back. She was trying so hard to keep it together for you and your sisters but the moment she caught sight of Kara and Alex with blankets around themselves walking straight to where the two of you sat, made her break into tears.

You looked up from your mother's neck as you felt a hand rubbing your back and others grabbing your hand softly in reassurance. Each one of them by you and your mother's side, your cries had slowed down when your redhead sister asked with a crack in her voice to your mother. “Are we gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, we will be but it will take time to heal, we can't rush it, we have to be ready”

“We are going to be okay” Kara claimed as a statement of reassurance after your mother responded, but her trembling lip, bloodshot eyes, and the high tone she used made her sound more like a prayer than anything.

Your mother reassured, making you three nod slowly before falling into a reassuring silence. “Until then we have each other, and one of the most precious things you girls are going to have in your life is each other, your family.”

Flashback ends

Unknowingly to you, your sisters had been watching from the door the moment Kara heard your heart spike. Tears in their eyes as they watched your mother rocked you slowly as you cried. Silent sobs and bitten lips coming from them as they stopped each other from walking into the room.

Alex kept her jaw clenched as her hands gripped each other hard as she tried to keep the tears inside. The redhead felt responsible for your crying, the urge to run in and comfort you debating her self-control. Doubts, questions, and more gained in her head as she saw you sob into your mother's arms, rage slowly consuming her emotions as the protectiveness over you began to show up.

Kara let out silent sobs, with her hand on top of her mouth. Her bloodshot eyes and red cheeks had overwhelming tears. The superheroine hated herself, as she felt responsible for your crying. She just wanted to hold you in her arms and tell you everything was going to be just fine, she wanted to see your sunny smile when you saw her or the bad jokes and puns you used all the time, she wanted you, she wanted her little sister but a part of her told her you needed the same space she once received from you.

The two of them standing next to each other with broken hearts and tears in their eyes, a small sense of hope in their chest as they watched the scene. Sharing a knowing, Alex came closer putting her arm around your blonde sister’s shoulder before speaking.

“Everything is gonna be okay, we are getting her back, I promise,” She said quietly reassuring Kara even when neither of them fully believe it.

#kara danvers x reader #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #supergirl imagine #alex danvers x reader #baby danvers

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