For me, the line between gift-giving being a love language or a please-love-me language is virtually indistinguishable
It's something I loathe about myself but can't seem to stop
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Wrestle Me
Tokyo had reached record temperatures that day. The sun was roasting the city, every street was a mirage from the bending light of its shine. The weather recently had been sending everyone either inside or to the nearest water source.
Yuji had gone to the beach with Megumi and Nobara in a futile attempt to escape the heat that had Japan in the sweaty palm of its hand. They had offered you and Sukuna a spot on the railway car there, but you knew that Sukuna was too exhausted from his recent missions to do any sort of going out. Not to mention the draining effect of the heat stacked on top of that. You were in the mood to just enjoy each other's presence.
The two of you were sheltered away in the darkness of his bedroom, lying sprawled out across the floor in front of his small rotating fan. Sukuna and Yuji never turned the A/C on. Since they had moved into their own apartment, the brothers had become rather stingy when it came to the bills. The air didn't start up until the room felt like a sauna, and it turned off much too soon to give relief.
Sweat continued to drip down the both of your spines, but Sukuna didn't seem to mind it. He was enjoying the peace of his day off, dressed against the heat in nothing but his boxer briefs and a tank top. He had his head resting in the cushion of your lap, his eyes were transfixed on an old leather notebook that he had stolen from one of the professors a few days ago. It was in a language you hadn't taken at the academy yet, but Sukuna tells you it was early notes on jujutsu from the old world.
You had been scrolling through your phone, occasionally showing him something you found amusing or anything that reminded you of him. He only gave you a reaction to maybe 10% of the material, but it was fun to see him roll his eyes, or scoff and wave your phone away.
The longer you remained in the same spot,however, the sweatier you felt and the more frustrated with the heat. You tried not to squirm under Sukuna's head, remaining as still as possible as though he were a sleeping animal taking refuge on your lap. Boredom, however, eventually pulls the last straw that has you stirring.
An idea comes to mind.
Sukuna glances up at you, as though he expects you to show him something else on your phone, but instead his attention is caught by the mischievous glint you feel twinkling in your eye.
"Wrestle me." You beam at him.
It was somewhat of a joke.
Compared to your boyfriend, it was clear who would win in a pinning tournament between the two of you.
Sukuna, who enjoys kickboxing in his spare time. Sukuna, who has never missed an opportunity for a fight in the decade that you've known him, who could dead-lift your torso with ease if he so desired.
Sukuna, who has never touched you with anything but heart wrenching gentleness.
His eyes widen at your command, the notebook he had previously found so interesting has been completely forgotten. He seems to catch the drift of your lack of entertainment, and quickly plays along. His surprise melts into an amused little smile.
"Oh yeah? Think you got a chance, kid?" He taunts, placing the book beside him. His attention now fully focused on you.
You snort, you were only a year younger than he was, but he loved to emphasize it when he could. Sukuna mistakes your noise as a scoff and cocks a daring brow at you.
You love when he’s in a playful mood.
"I could take you any day." You tease. Part of you is running for the hills inside, but another part is having fun with the big bad wolf. That was the constant state you were in with him. Sukuna didn't even have to try and he always had your heart racing.
Sukuna makes an impressed noise, "That, I'm well aware of. I don't know about in a fight, though."
You groan at his joke, shaking your head in disappointment, but Sukuna grabs onto your chin before you can get even one turn of your head out.
"Let's find out."
~
Ten minutes later, you're drenched in twice the amount of sweat as you were before, but Sukuna has barely lost a drop. He's got you twisted like a pretzel beneath him, holding your limbs in just the right way so that you're completely incapacitated in his hands.
Your first mistake was thinking Sukuna knew how to play-fight. The only person he had been remotely close with in your childhood was his twin brother, and the two of them had often "wrestled", but it only ended when one of them had blood dripping out of their noses. You learned early on not to question it. Having two boys as your childhood best friends had you turning your gaze from a lot of things, in fact.
The only thing you questioned now, was how you were going to get out of your current predicament. You were sure Sukuna was having a blast practically hogtying you with his hands, and now he knew how easy it was to get you in this position. It was a double whammy that would surely effect you in the future.
"Did you really think I'd go easy on you?" The weight of his chest presses into your back as he leans over you, sending hot breath over your neck. "How cute."
"Okay, okay! I give!" You whine, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. You had to admit that it was getting slightly painful, but Sukuna was well aware of your pressure points and where to stay away from. You still had one last trick up your sleeve, however.
Satisfied with your surrender, he nips at your ear with his teeth before he slides off of you and relinquishes his effortless grip. Before he can fully turn away, however, you're leaping onto his back like a monkey and tackling him into his mattress. It was a dirty tactic, but you had been wrestling your childhood best friend Yuji since the two of you were in elementary school, so you were no stranger to tricks of the trade. Especially the feign defeat card.
He blinks up at you. It was a difficult task to take Sukuna off guard, but you had accomplished it.
"Sucker." You playfully stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. Inside your chest, your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s almost like Sukuna knows this, because even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s still looking at you with an amused grin- unaffected by your change of position.
"You have a higher pain tolerance than I thought you did." He notes, tilting his head to the side like he's considering something. "What can we do with that new information, I wonder?"
It was another intimidation tactic. A good one. It had chills running down your spine. But, you weren’t going to let him win so easily this time. Suddenly, you were interested in how far you could push him, as well.
"Come on 'Kuna," You chide, your nose is practically touching his- a rabbit pressing against the snout of a hungry wolf. "Can't take defeat, my love?"
"Oh doll," His voice is a husky drawl, rough hands slide their way from their resting places on your hips to slip under the hem of your shirt and brush the skin of your waist. You try to contain your shiver. "You're playing a very dangerous game."
One last wave of confidence sweeps through you as you lean down, just like he always did, to murmur lowly into his ear. "And you're losing."
That did it.
Sukuna grabs onto your waist so quickly, you barely have time to register it before he loops his leg around your knee and easily flips the two of you back to your original position. You're giggling beneath him as he gathers your face into his hands, pressing calloused fingers into your cheeks. You've gotten under his impenetrable skin. You didn't know it, but you always did.
No matter how strong a man is, he will always lose to the woman he loves.
Sukuna was slowly starting to accept that.
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Do you remember your writings about a minotaur and a farmer girl? Well, how about this, one night there is a party in the small town, you know, and that day both humans and monsters attend, it is a day when everyone can have fun and relax, humans, werewolves, half-snake creatures, orcs, minotaurs, etc, anyway, in the town the minotaur realizes that the girl he lives with is somewhat "popular" among some humans and monsters, since it shows that some have an interest in her, you know, they are in love with her, and well this is something that makes our minotaur jealous 🤭
part one, two, three. and for those who didn't see the Minotaur's name is Sam now.
Sam looks up at the dazzling lights that flit through the night sky. Fireflies glow in the dark like stars. Children run around with glass jars trying to catch the small insects. There's so much noise, it's a little overwhelming, children shrieking in delight, groups of people talking loudly, and a little further down a band was playing.
You reach out and squeeze his hand, reminding him that he isn't alone.
"It's pretty, isn't it? I'm so glad you decided to come to the solstice festival with me," you say smiling. It is a beautiful summer night, and having you with him makes it all the better. he can't help but think that you're pretty tonight too.
"You've been begging me for weeks to come with you, I couldn't say no," he murmurs. it wasn't quite true, you'd just been hinting over and over again that he should come out with you tonight. You laugh and squeeze his hand again before letting go completely, and he fights the urge to pull your hand back in his and cling to you a little longer. Sam craves your touch more than he should, your hands are warm, and small in his, and they make him feel at ease in a place like this, surrounded by noisy strangers. Even though he's out of his element, he is glad he came, he feels better knowing he can keep an eye on you, and keep you safe, should the need arise.
You'd promised him other nonhumans would be there tonight, and you'd spoken the truth. everywhere you looked there were werewolves, nagas, and some paler humans he could only assume were vampires, Still, he felt like he stood out, he was a good foot taller than anyone else here, and he did notice the nervous glances he was getting. He gets it. he's big and scary, covered in scars, and has a broken horn.
The people of the town surprise him. many people came up to him and started a conversation, even though they were clearly nervous. He hated it. And he hated that he hated it. He still wasn't good at talking to anyone who wasn't you, just because you're nice and treat him with respect doesn't mean All humans are like that, he knows all too well just how cruel most of your kind can be.
That being said, most people coming up to him weren't actually there for him but for you. He knew you were lovely, kind, charming, and attractive, but he's a little surprised that so many others thought the same. It seemed like half the town wanted to catch up, buy you a drink, take you for a dance. humans and monsters alike.
He feels the jealousy spike, he wants to hoard your attention, and selfishly keep you all to himself. The two of you were basically alone on the farm, he'd almost forgotten what it was like to have to share your attention. and it's not a welcome change. Luckily for him, you don't seem eager to leave his side. You politely turn down the handsome werewolf who asked you for a dance. You seem perfectly committed to staying by his side this whole night, just like you promised you would. there are no words for how grateful he is that that's true.
"I don't know how to dance," he admits softly as the werewolf walks away.
"What?" you ask, not following his train of thought.
"I mean. if you want to dance tonight, that's not something you can do with me," he explains, his mood darkening as he thinks about the things you couldn't do with him that you could with a more normal man. He thinks about all the people who've talked to you tonight, any one of them would make a better more stable partner than him. He feels guilty for wanting you, especially when he considers how much he doesn't deserve you.
"No one was born knowing how to dance, Sam, it's a skill, you practice and you learn. If you want I can teach you," you offer. Sam felt the blood drain from his face, He'd fought countless bloody fights and none of that was as terrifying as the idea of trying to learn to dance in front of such a large crowd. You laugh lightly seeing the look on his face,
"At home, I'll teach you when we're alone, besides this-" you gesture to the band playing "-isn't really my style, I'll figure something better for us to dance to," you assure him, and he relaxes. Dancing, alone with you, at home. your shared home. it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Love is not a word that he never uses ever, and he rarely even allows himself to think it, but he's not sure how much longer he can keep the words inside. He's sure that if you really do teach him to dance that will be his breaking point, or maybe he wouldn't say "I love you" but he might just kiss you deeply instead. Then again, maybe he should, if you were officially his it might keep some of the other men in town away from you. He wouldn't mind that at all.
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THE FINAL SHOW
A/N: last night was a rollercoaster of emotions and i still can't believe love on tour is over, but it will always have a special place in my heart. one thing is for sure, im sill here and i will continue writing for this amazing human until he returns onto the stage where he belongs.
WORD COUNT: 2.6k
SUMMARY: You made a promise in the beginning of Love On Tour and now it's catching up with you and though your heart wants you to keep your word, you know it's not that easy, because it's about your boss, the person who matters the most to you.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
You should have learned by now that Harry Styles never forgets.
He remembers every birthday, anniversary, every story anyone tells him, he remembers fans he has interacted with and he is extremely good with names. It’s definitely one thing you admire about him.
But know this tiny detail about him did not teach you to watch what you say around him, because he will recite your words even years later.
It’s been an on and off tango between the two of you for a long time. As his assistant, you’ve been dancing on the line of being professional and jumping into his bed whenever he does as so much as looking at you with those stupid, gorgeous eyes. He is your job, you keep telling that to yourself, but deep down you know he is more than just that.
He is… everything.
It would be easier if he only saw you as his assistant, but that’s not the case. Just how you caught those certain feelings, Harry has shown interest towards you, on several occasions, flirting with you bluntly, asking you out every possible chance.
And each time, when you turned down, a voice in your head screamed at you, but your rationality has been stronger so far and it hasn’t let you take that leap that would change everything forever.
Now, back to his immaculate memory.
You’d been working for him for over a year when the first European leg of Love On Tour was about to start, the residency shows were set to be announced and along with the South American, Australian and Asian dates and another full European leg was in the planning phase. Tour was looking endless and everyone on the team was joking that there won’t be a final show of Love On Tour.
Following another meeting in Harry’s LA home you were hanging out by his pool, something that happened quite often, because he liked to share what he had with the people around him. The sun was setting and you both had several glasses of wine, so the business talk has been long forgotten when you ordered food for the two of you.
You were in the shallow, lounge area of the pool where you could sit in the water and you were enjoying a hamburger while he was swimming around, watching you. You caught him looking right in the middle of a huge bite.
“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he swam closer with a grin on his face.
“You look amazing.”
You snorted out loud, mouth full and probably smelling like onions.
“I’m sure I do,” you sarcastically said. “Is this what turns you on? Chewing and onion smell?”
“No. It’s you.”
You stopped and gave him a suspicious look. He moved over and sat beside you.
“You turn me on, Y/N,” he added, when you didn’t say anything, just leisurely staring back at you, as if he hadn’t just overstepped a major boundary between boss and employee.
“Harry, stop,” you mumbled, putting the remainder of your burger to the plate at the edge of the pool.
“What? You started it with guessing what turns me on.”
“It was just a joke!”
“Okay, and I told you the truth.”
“You definitely shouldn’t be saying shit like that to me.”
“Too late, already did, so I think we could take it even further,” he shrugged and you couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Oh, you are something else, Harry Styles, you know that?”
“That didn’t sound like a no to me,” he grinned, moving just a tad bit closer, but still respecting your private space. “I really want to kiss you, Y/N,” he bluntly added and you knew it was the wine talking from him, sober Harry wouldn’t have said those words out loud, but it didn’t fail to make you feel dizzy and weak.
“That’s not gonna happen now,” you shook your head.
“Okay, if not now, then when?”
“You are so annoying,” you laughed again. “You know what? You can kiss me when Love On Tour officially ends,” you joked.
It was a genuine joke. Anyone would have known you didn’t mean it, but it was Harry you said it to and the moment the words left your mouth they burned into his memories forever.
“Alright then,” he simply said, splashed you and then swam away.
That was the beginning of 2022. You slept off the wine and though you never forgot you said it, you didn’t keep track of the promise you initially made.
Harry did, however.
Not one day went by without him thinking about those words and it was the only reason he was looking forward for the very last show of Love On Tour.
He’s been acting weird, probably since about Vienna. With two weeks until the end of tour and his break, your workload hasn’t gotten less so you couldn’t really care about his weirdness, but when you’re out for dinner in Barcelona with the band and some other crew members and two rounds of drinks have been consumed already, you finally acknowledge the change.
“Hey, you alright?” You poke your elbow into his side, stealing a fry from his plate. Shrugging, he pushes the plate closer to you.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?” you ask, snacking on his leftover fries.
“The end of tour.”
Freezing you instantly remember to that one conversation in his pool. You peek at him and find him already looking at you with a gaze that burns right into your heart. Clearing your throat you turn back to the fries and pretend like you don’t remember the promise you made.
“Just two more weeks and you’re free.”
“That’s not how I see it.”
“Mmm,” you hum, but don’t dare to look at him. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, but luckily, before he could bring up anything specific Mitch call out his name from across the table and you’re relieved. For now.
It’s almost midnight when you all head back to the hotel and you and Harry somehow end up at the back of the group. The elevator is too full for the two of you to get in as well, so you wait for another round. While you’re still ignoring to look at him, he is very much only looking at you, it feels like.
The elevator returns and you get inside, but Harry pushes the button for the top floor.
“Hey, that’s—“
“I want to show you something,” he hold up a hand.
The top of the hotel has a rooftop bar with an amazing view of the city, the perfect grid of the streets, it’s breathtaking.
“I knew you would like it,” he smiles, leaning against the railing next to you, with his back towards the view, as if he was way more interested in seeing you than the city.
“Because you know me so well,” you chuckle softly.
“I do,” he answers quietly. “We have only four more shows.”
“Mhm,” you nod, eyes glued to the view in front of you.
“The final show of Love On Tour is in ten days.”
“I’m glad you keep track of the shows so well, I feel like I’m not even needed anymore,” you joke with a chuckle, but when you finally look at him you know why he is bringing all of these up.
“Do you remember what you promised would happen when the last show finally comes?”
“Harry…”
“You do,” he simply says. “I know you as someone who keeps her word.”
“It’s… Harry, that was never a promise, I was just joking!”
“None of it is a joke to me, Y/N.”
You roll your eyes, but hate the effect his words have on you. Like your whole inside is on fire, begging to just give in finally, to end this years long game and act on the feelings you’ve been pushing down so hard all this time.
Sighing you cross your arms over your chest. You want to make fun out of it again and say that it was all just about a kiss, but you know, you both know that it would never stop at one kiss, that it’s bigger than that and it would consume you fully if you let your walls down.
“This seems like a big mistake,” you tell him honestly. “What if it goes wrong and… I lose my job… and you.”
Your voice breaks at the end and you can’t look him in the eyes. You’ve spent endless nights thinking about what would happen if you gave in and it all went downhill. Your job might be the last thing on the list of worries, what really scares you is to imagine a version of your life without him because.
It would break you.
“Being scared of the wrong outcome will keep you away from the best things in your life, Y/N.”
“Did you just call yourself the best thing in my life?” you try to joke, but he just gives you a look.
“Don’t think about the what ifs, if you get there, you’ll figure it out. You always do. We always do.”
“This is not that simple,” you shake your head. “You know it’s not that simple.”
“But it is,” he chuckles, but you keep shaking your head. “Figuring out my feelings has never been this simple.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence when not even you know whether you’re about to give in or not and for a split second it actually feels like you’re breaking, but something pulls you back last minute.
“No. And we should be heading back, you have a show tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”
You step away from the railing and start walking back, but when you notice that he’s not coming you turn around and see him staring at the city this time. Opening your mouth you’re about to call out for him, but then change your mind and let him be, walking back to your room.
When you see him again in the morning he doesn’t bring it up again and you’re convinced he won’t bring your promise up again.
The last show has everyone all over the place, you’ve been running around since about six in the morning, picking up people, making sure the hotel check-ins go smoothly and everything is exactly how it should be. The day feels like a whole week, but the excitement and bittersweet sadness that’s been wrapped around everyone is what keeps you up on your feet still.
But the real weight of the last show hits the moment it finally starts.
This is the time when you have nothing to do so you watch Harry perform every night, meaning that this is the 169th time you’re seeing him take the stage and perform just as perfectly as he did at the first, the fiftieth and one hundredth show. He always gives his absolute most. Not just at his shows, but in his life as well. That’s one of the million reasons you fell for him.
Medicine has everyone dying, all 100 thousand people out there and then Harry starts giving his speech that’s extra long this time, talking about how grateful he is for everything, for his fans, his friends and family and it’s one big emotional mess and you can’t help but cry a bit as well, watching from the side.
“The last two years of my life, the last two years of this tour has been the greatest experience I could ever ask for…”
“I see it, the love, in how it’s affected all the people around me, continue to affect people. It does not end with this tour.”
“I love you, thank you so much.”
Screaming rolls over the crowd as an answer and you expect him to go on with starting As It Was, but then he starts talking again.
“There is one more thing I want to say tonight. I have learned and experienced so much in the past years. I will be forever thankful for the memories we’ve made.”
There. He said we, he switched up his narrative. That’s how you know he is not talking to the crowd. He is talking to you.
“If this is it, if it never goes beyond this, I would live a happy life. With you forever in my heart. But if we ever take it further, if we ever take the risk and reach for the stars and we might fall… just know that I will always be here for you. You can never lose me. No matter what. I love you.”
You suck on your breath, covering your mouth with your hand as you stare at him stand in the middle of the stage, staring out ahead of him, the crowd screaming for him, oblivious to the one sided conversation that just happened between you and him.
As It Was starts and the show carries on towards the end, but you’re still frozen in that moment and when the show ends and you watch Harry drop to his knees on the stage, you know things will never be the same.
Backstage is like a tornado once the show is over, the band walks off the stage and Harry is following right behind with Lloyd by his side, but when he sees you standing still in the middle of the madness, he drops out of the conversation right away and stops a few feet away from you, letting you decide where to go now.
“You promise?” you breathe out, your throat closing up. “You promise I will never lose you?”
“I thought that was clear by now, Y/N,” he replies, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. “But if you need me to actually say it, I will. You will never lose me, no matter what. It will always be you and me and I know you’re scared, but I’m—“
He doesn’t get to finish, because you’re already throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him.
It doesn’t matter that the whole crew bursts out into screaming and whistling, that you’re giving a second show with the way you get lost in each other, because in your little bubble it’s just you and Harry and everything that’s been building between the two of you.
Every joke, every teasing comment, all the stolen looks and suppressed feeling that was never acted on is now free, they all burst out of your chest and into the electricity that’s snaking around you as you keep taking more and more of him, hungry to make up for the past years.
The clapping dies down when you finally pull back, forehead resting against his, his hands holding you so tight as if he was afraid you might run away any moment.
“You kept your promise. I knew you were trusty, Y/N Y/L/N,” he chuckles, pecking your lips softly again as you laugh at his words, finally opening your eyes to look at him.
“Actually I feel like I kissed you. I promised you could kiss me, so technically—“
“Shut up, you’re already getting on my nerves,” he laughs, kissing you over and over again, so your promise is actually fulfilled. “Can’t wait for you to do that every day for the rest of my life.”
“I thought that was part of my job too, have I not been doing that?” you tease, lips moving against his as you speak.
“You have, but you can take it to a whole new level now,” he laughs, pulling you against him before letting you go and popping the bubble, though his hand never lets go of yours, not while everyone congratulates him, not when the final show celebrations start and not when he pulls you into his hotel room to end this journey of Love On Tour with you by his side, but also start a new chapter.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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— enhypen when there’s a scandal about their s/o dating another idol !
idol!enhypen x idol!reader, fluff, established relationship au, no warnings!
req. by anon -> i merged the last two requests !
♫ pink+white by frank ocean
𖠗 이희승 | lee heeseung.
omds when he finds out
prepare to be met by the sulkiest baby you’ve ever met
like this guy is 6ft and counting but has a POUT on his lips when you see him
just shoves his phone that has the news article on it of accusations that you and taehyun from txt are dating
since you’re all in the same entertainment, it’s easy to be rumoured with either enhypen or txt
and due to your groups comeback along with txts comeback being at the same time, fans are talking about how cute you and taehyun would be after the tiktoks you had made together
“is he a better dancer than me?”
“no, heeseung.”
“is he a better singer than me?”
“no, heeseung.”
this isn’t enough to make him feel better though, so you must avenge his heart with kisses or else.
𖠗 박종성 | park jongseong.
when he sees the article that says you and another member of enhypen are dating, he just raises a brow as he frowns
waits for you to get home and shows you the article, “jagii, look at what they’re saying”
he subtly whines about it for the whole day, even sending death stares to jake every once in a while
but you tell him that fans just like doing these things for fun, and they always make the most extreme theories
like so what if you and jake were being friendly at the awards?
little do they know that it’s only because you and jay are dating
jay knows this so he feels better but not completely great
so you may do something sly with your stylist and ask her to subtly match yours and jays outfit for the next event
which fans catch on to, definitely making your boyfriend bubble with happiness that jakes article is long forgotten
𖠗 심재윤 | sim jaeyun.
very whiny baby
doesn’t wait for you to get home but instead just texts you the article with a sad face
you’re expectant of a sad and pouty jaeyun when you get home
but this time, showering him with affection and love doesn’t help completely get rid of the pout on his lips
“loveee, theres nothing going on with beomgyu and i,” you tell him. “i think my stylist and his stylist just accidentally gave us the same shirt”
is still pouty but understands
“why can’t we wear the same shirt” jake nuzzles into your shirt
he says things like, “i hope dispatch expose us this year”
little do you know he’s actually considering giving dispatch the okay sign to expose you two 😭
𖠗 박성훈 | park sunghoon.
when you come home he’s like, “well hello cheater” and you just sigh
“so, you and soobin huh? i’m a better mc than him anyway” and ur like ???
all u did smile at him a few times at the awards thing and now this?
doesn’t hesitate to show how much better he is than soobin (poor soobin i love u)
u just let him say but bc u know he’s reassuring himself with it
then he gets sulky, “do you think he’s attractive?”
“no sunghoon you’re the most attractive in the world”
smiles at this
threatens your stylist and everyone else to coincidentally make it seem like u and him are dating
acts surprised when there’s billions of articles about you two now
𖠗 김선우 | kim sunoo.
he literally scoffs when he sees all the comments under ur tiktok
guys this is so random but i feel like he would make a secret account and somewhat hate on u and whoever ur being shipped with
would comment stuff like “what? no they don’t look good together” or replies to people and starts mini arguments
he’s still doing this even when you come home
so when you hear him constantly scoffing at his phone and aggressively typing
you ask him what he’s doing and he’s like, “don’t worry”
but this continues for too long so you check and see and you’re like, “kim sunoo????”
then he realises and he’s like :0 “sorry, but but seeing people ship you two was so annoying”
you just hug him and remind him how fans can be
𖠗 양정원 | yang jungwon.
is high-key so sad when he sees the stuff coming up about you and another idol
he tries to hide it bc he thinks he’s overreacting but eventually
he just tells you how he’s feeling
and then just rants about how silly fans are
another one who does something sneaky like asking his managers to do content with your group and his group
which works and he makes so many attempts at videos that fans can edit and say you guys would make a good couple to
“you did this on purpose didn’t you?” you’d ask bc ur not DUMB
and he would just smirk like “what makes you say that, baby???”
𖠗 西村力 | nishimura riki.
he’s like sunghoon and heeseung a bit
hes sulky but hes also like “they’re not better than me, babe”
i think niki would be continuously watching stuff about you and the other idol
to the point where you’d have to take his phone away and cuddle him
he just melts in your cuddles bc he’s quite sad that this stuff is going to be around him all the time
and since he’s so young, the instructions he’s given are to stay out of this stuff for as long as possible
so he does as he’s told even though it’s hurtful
but when you get opportunities with enha, you make it obvious that it’s niki you want to spend the most time with
it’s not long before fans start shipping you two which makes riki so so happy
he probably suspects u do this to make him happy which only makes him love u more
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Dew Drops
Author's Note: I wrote this on a whim today because I felt very emotional and was inspired by a song. I cried while writing this - quite a lot actually. I'll happily show and the translate the song later because it is quite perfect for Astarion (and Tav).
Summary: After Astarion has become free, he takes a moment to reflect and do something he'd never thought possible...
Pairing: Astarion / Tav (You)
Warnings: mentions of past trauma
Wordcount: 1,1k
Song (the inspiration for this piece): Tau - Herbert Grönemeyer
~~~
Just before the first sun rays were creeping over the roofs of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion got out of bed. Slowly, so he wouldn’t wake you up, still blissfully in your dreams beside him.
He watched you for a moment. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Watched how your chest was slowly rising and falling. Your hands softly curled up against your chest. Your lips soft and relaxed: neither curled into a smirk nor drawn down – just silently peaceful.
Astarion almost stayed there then, lost in you. The one person that had helped him come this far. The one who had so purely believed in him – that there was more, that he was more.
He let one finger slowly wander over your cheek – so featherlight you didn’t even stir in your sleep. The smile that crept onto his lips was genuine and bright and full with warmth and love.
Then he got up, got dressed. He wrote you a small note and then quietly left the room, left the inn.
Astarion purposefully wandered through the streets while most of the city was still asleep or just starting to blink its eyes. Purposefully, he went to a place he’d come to know like the back of his own hand.
This small little garden, hidden away in some backyard’s backyards – so hard to find it might have been forgotten by everyone – everyone, but the flowers and the vampire. The vampire who’d stumbled upon it sometime during his seemingly endless years, decades, centuries even of torment.
And this small little garden had become a tiny space of refuge for Astarion. A place of at least some peace and safety where he had spent so many nights when he had been able to steal away – sometimes for only a few minutes, sometimes almost whole nights.
And he’d sat there, comforted a little by the silvery moonlight and the twining plants and flowers – even though he never got to see their blossoms.
He found the way to the small space without any problem. It almost felt like he’d been there yesterday, although so much had changed since he’d last been here. Everything, in fact.
Not only had he broken the chains of his enslavement and walked in the sunlight again, but he had also found someone. Someone who’d promised him that he would not have to be alone ever again. And who had promised to help him carry the weight of the now broken, but still heavy chains – until hopefully someday he would be able to shake the shackles off as well.
Astarion entered the garden through an archway that led to the little safe haven. It still looked like he remembered: vines and bushes everywhere, deep and luscious green filling the whole space. The plants were full of still closed blossoms. Dew drops covered leaves and blooms and gave them an elegant silvery sheen.
The vampire let his fingertips softly wander over some of the plants and closed buds. Then he sat in his usual spot, a small rock at the back of the small rectangular space – directly across from the archway he had just entered through.
And then he waited.
He watched as the first golden rays of sunlight crept over the peaks of the stone walls. Like bright fingers they wandered over the plants, caressed them with their light and warmth. Softly brushing away the silver droplets of dew.
The first sunlight fell on Astarion who had awaited its arrival with anticipation, still wondering how lucky he could have been to feel it again. He had buried the hope so long ago.
He knew it wouldn’t last. So, he would make the most of it as long as he could.
He closed his eyes, completely giving himself to the feeling of the sun warming his pale skin. His lips opened with a little gasp. His chest shuddered with a ragged breath as he felt the tears well up. A single tear flowing over and leaving a wet trail on his cheek.
After a while he opened his eyes, hoping he hadn’t been too impatient.
But as he looked up and let his ruby gaze wander over the space his chest clenched painfully at the sight: the flowers had started to open up.
Offering him their whole palette of colours and beauty – the last dew drops glistening on them. The blossoms bowing to the warming sun, happy to show their beauty to him. Deep reds, almost golden yellow, wonderful blues and oranges. And in all shapes too: starlike chalices, frilly circles, cascading spheres.
He tried to take in everything at once as he looked at it with lips parted in wonder and astonishment. Observing every single combination possible. Wanting to imprint it all on his mind forever.
And as Astarion gazed upon this view he’d never dared to hope to take in one day, emotions overwhelmed him. And it was pleasantly painful, in all his beauty and bitter sweetness.
This, all this – it hurt so much. And it was so all hard, going on.
His chest was aching with sorrow and with joy as the single tear turned into a constant flowing and his whole body started shaking and shuddering.
The pain behind his sternum was so strong it almost felt as if his heart had finally started beating again.
It felt like most every emotion he had ever felt washed over him in this very moment – fear, hurt, guilt, grief. But also love, joy, compassion, confidence. All mixing together in a way that was barely tolerable, but most certainly meant one thing: he was alive.
And Astarion wept and wailed, lifting his head towards the comforting warmth of the rising sun as he cried. He doubled over as sobs shook through him. Cried out as tears ran over his face and his nose began to drop.
It hurt so much, all this.
But the pain meant he was still here. It meant he was free again. It meant he was ready and able to grasp life with both his hands and start living again. Even though it might not always be easy.
But he wouldn't be alone.
He looked up through his tears and a smile found its way on his lips as he looked upon the blooming flowers all around. He sobbed and he laughed as he saw the beauty in it. He felt alive.
And then you stepped through the archway and even the sight of all the flowers in the first sunlight could not compare. His companion through all of this and all to come.
You looked so worried the way you rushed over to Astarion, kneeling down in front of him. Wrapping your arms around him as he kept weeping and sobbing – not caring for how loud or unpleasant it might be. He let his head sink to your shoulder in unyielding gratefulness.
And you held onto each other until his sobs and tears slowly subsided.
You looked at him, cautiously asking if he was alright.
And Astarion looked up with a bright and broad smile, through the tears still remaining in his ruby eyes:
“Yes, my love. It’s just… it’s so beautiful to be alive.”
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cardigan (3/3)
I knew you, leavin' like a father, running like water
pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!
summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.
word count: 8.8k
previous part • next part
After forcing yourself to forget about Aemond, start having every intention of having fun with your friends no matter what and get a few drinks… you did it.
You managed to have fun and have a really good time with your real friends.
Even though you got your heart broken, you felt really bad and had to endure that ugly sharp pain in your chest along with all that sadness, pain, anger and disappointment…. you drank and forgot about everything to focus on the moment.
You even met new people, all friends of Ryan's.
The next day, in Sara's room at the dorm, you didn't even remember their names or almost half of the things that happened at the party.
Until she reminded you herself and showed you videos of everyone together with those people dancing and having a good time.
Then, remembering what had happened before you decided to have fun, you felt that urge to cry again.
Fortunately Sara didn't ask you about him, it was as if she had forgotten about him and you were thankful for that since you didn't have to talk to her about anything.
However, after Sara does you the favor of taking you home, even though the place doesn't really feel like that anymore, nervous, cautious and not really having the energy and courage to face him, you still open the door of the apartment and enter.
But you get the big surprise that he's not even here.
Incredulous, you think to yourself that he must have stayed with his girlfriend again. And you quickly attend to Vhagar and yourself, wanting to occupy your mind so that you don't seriously cry at that moment.
Did he really completely forgot my birthday?
You didn't even need to know, the answer to the question was pretty clear when you got to the apartment since he didn't show up for the rest of the day either.
And you didn't know if you felt grateful for it since you didn't want to see him or it made you feel worse about the fact that he really had completely forgotten you and your special day.
So the best you could do at that moment, was to take a bath, eat a little and then look for a job again around your area.
You want to keep your mind busy, you don't want to think about him, so you don't rest and you don't take your eyes off your phone until you find a job.
Until you finally find a job at a flower shop near the university as the store's receptionist and where the working hours fit your schedule perfectly. They don't ask for experience either.
That day, even though your head hurts and you still haven't recovered one hundred percent from the previous party, you take pills, get some rest and head to the flower shop.
And the next few days, it's back to living alone in the apartment.
Since you completely ignored Aemond's messages that night, neither you nor he have spoken again, not even a phone call.
You no longer ask him if he will come to eat, what special food he wants in case he does, where he is or where he spent the night.
You don't do it anymore because you no longer want to or care.
You also no longer do his laundry, the little he has here really, and now you simply clean up the mess you make and only buy food for yourself.
He probably has to come to the apartment when you are in class and you are grateful for that, even though you feel more broken inside every day that passes and you see again how he completely forgot your birthday.
He doesn't say anything to you, he doesn't even make the slightest effort, he doesn't see you and doesn't seem to have the intention of doing so any time soon.
Does it hurt? Yes, very much.
But you know you are no one to tell him what he can and can't do, who he can and can't be with.
Just as you don't have to remind him that it was your birthday, nor should you tell him that he forgot all about it.
He knows what he is doing, he makes his own decisions, he is no longer a child,… and neither are you.
That's why despite being very upset, sad and broken, really not wanting to you still force yourself to try to communicate with him.
You've got the job and there's a dorm room available at the residence halls, so now you just want to give him the key to the apartment.
Although nothing would be better than just leaving and nothing else, but you know you can't do that.
After all, he helped you a lot financially by offering you your own space here, basically for free.
But yet when you text and call him a few times as you start packing, he doesn't respond.
He responds very late at night only telling you that he's staying the night with Alys. And when you ask him if you can see each other and talk, he doesn't respond anymore.
Until more days go by and you unsuccessfully, feeling really annoyed with him, you tell yourself that enough is enough.
You ask Ryan to help you transport your things to your new home and you definitely break all ties with Aemond by bringing Vhagar with you as well.
With him pretending you no longer exist, as if he didn't have his best friend living with him, or apparently so it was, so now you also do the exact same thing.
You pretend he no longer exists and just walk away.
And now as you settle into your new home, which is not at all like where you used to live before, you still like it and tell yourself that you will get used to it soon.
It has nothing more than the small square space with your bed, your closet and desk, also a small bathroom.
You only have to buy a small refrigerator now while everything else like laundry is already offered by the residence on the first floor.
You know your room will be a small place for Vhagar but she doesn't seem to mind as she settles into your bed and falls asleep once you start unpacking.
Until the weekend comes and your friends make noise in the group chat saying they want to party on Saturday.
And you, thinking you wouldn't be in the mood, agree to go and have some fun.
It's already been a full week Monday through Saturday morning that you started your new job that you couldn't have liked any better. So you want to get all the stress out.
Most of all you want to get the sadness out of your system because of work, your classes and also because of him.
It's also been a full week since you moved, so not wanting anything to do with him anymore, you head to the one person you know will help you with the matter: Helaena.
Helaena also studies at the same university, she also lives in a dorm room, only that she studies biology.
So once you send her a message asking if the two of you can meet, she gladly accepts and you arrange to meet in her room.
And soon enough she finds herself opening her door to greet you.
"Hi Y/N!" she exclaims happily and wraps you in a soft hug, to which you smile.
"Hello Hel."
"Where have you been? I finally see you."
She asks you as she pulls away from you and looks at you a little confused, without erasing her charming smile.
"You know…" You shrug your shoulders, a little nervous, "I've been very busy with my classes."
And even though that's not the real reason, she still believes you.
"Oh yeah, sure, me too, it's a nightmare. Come on in."
She steps aside so you can come in and you do, immediately feeling nervous because you know you'll have to tell her about everything that happened with her brother.
"Even so, you didn't come to the ball."
Helaena says to you suddenly and you watch her as she closes the door behind her.
"I thought it was weird since you always go to my family's ball."
"Yes…" you say a little uncomfortable, "I… I did…
"But it seemed so weird to me that all of a sudden Aemond took his girlfriend when he said that…..
She stops suddenly, then looks at you with her eyes wide open, now softening her confused face, watching you intently.
"Oh, don't tell me," she murmurs.
And all you do is bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment in sorrow.
"Don't tell me you didn't go because he took his girlfriend."
You let out a long breath and at that moment, taking advantage of the fact that she has already brought up the subject of him and his girlfriend, you decide to tell her everything that happened.
The ball, how you now live alone in his apartment when it wasn't supposed to be like that, his conversation with Alys, his irresponsibility with Vhagar and finally your birthday.
"Oh I'm going to kill that son of a…
"No, Hel, please."
You ask her, not wanting to talk about him anymore.
"It's all done now. I don't want to cause any more…
"You? Cause anything?" she interrupts you, incredulous, "Y/N, you couldn't cause anything, it's all caused by him and his obsession with that girl."
"She's his girlfriend," you say with pain in your chest, "It makes sense."
"Yeah, but you don't put your best friend down for a relationship, Y/N," she says obviously and with an annoyed tone, "And believe me when I tell you that when I met that girl she didn't give me any good vibes. Mother seemed to some point pleased, but Nyra with her look told me everything, so did Aegon and even my uncle Daemon."
"Really?"
You ask her really interested in it, since apparently you were not the only one who felt that way when you met Alys for the first time.
"Yes, really," she assures you, "They all asked about you, Daeron, Jace and Luke too."
You lower your gaze with a sad expression, since you haven't seen Aemond's little brother or his two nephews who have always been very kind and funny with you.
You are also struck by the fact that Aemond did not tell you that his family had been asking about you at the ball.
Maybe he did it so as not to make you feel bad.
"Aemond didn't even answer them, he didn't even seem to know what to say. He just immediately introduced them to his girlfriend," she says with a pout.
You let out a long breath.
"Well, I still get the idea of how much fun everyone had. I saw your pictures and videos on Instagram."
"I just can't believe he told you at the last minute when you already had everything ready that he was taking his girlfriend," she insists, really annoyed, "And yet after making plans the idiot forgot your birthday?" she inquires.
"It doesn't matter anymore, Hel, that was a little more than a week ago," you say not wanting to give more importance to the matter, "In fact, I came here because I wanted to know if you could do me a favor, now that we are talking about it."
Helaena, still annoyed to hear everything you told her, still nods.
"Sure, what is it?"
"I…
You bite your lips, feeling nervous to tell the sister of your best friend, or ex best friend rather, about the new chapter of your life.
Mostly because after this, Aemond will finally know everything soon enough.
"I've gotten a job in a flower shop and I've also moved into a dorm. Don't worry, I have brought Vhagar with me, now I will take care of her."
You assure her the instant you know she would ask you about Vhagar.
"And even though I didn't want to, I had to try to communicate with Aemond, but he never responded and I never saw him around the apartment, so I just left because I couldn't delay any longer. To this day he doesn't even know anything."
Again Helaena's soft, tender face contorts in anger.
"That fucking son of a….
"So…" you interrupt her, taking the things from your backpack, "Here is the key to the apartment and also this envelope with money to pay him for the troubles."
You look at her with a certain sadness and with the hope in your face that she will take care of this after Helaena sees everything in your hands and again returns her gaze to yours.
"Could you hand it over to him, please?"
And now it is Helaena's turn to look at you sadly and with compassion as she looks at your hurt face and understands what you went through and what you are going through now.
"Oh, Y/N…" she says disappointedly, "I'm so sorry for my stupid brother."
And again she pulls you in a soft and comforting hug that you allow since you really need it, even though you avoid breaking down crying at that moment.
You know Helaena probably won't tell him anything, but you still don't want to cry in the arms of your ex-best friend's sister.
"Don't worry, Hel. And nothing that happened with him will affect our friendship either," you assure her in a sad voice.
"No, of course not," she says instantly, hugging you a little tighter.
After a few more moments like that, they both separate and Helaena takes the key and the envelope with the money.
That money was sent to you monthly by your parents and you decided to give it to him. Now with your job at the flower shop, you can get that money back for your needs.
But for now it feels good to give it to Aemond because despite hearing that horrible conversation between him and his girlfriend, you do it mostly to feel better about yourself.
And after talking a few more moments with Helaena, you both finally say goodbye and you walk through her door.
You both agree that one of these days you could go for a coffee together. And just as you are about to leave, Helaena stops you with her words.
Words that leave you completely still, and then you look at her again with a slight surprise on your face.
"I always believed and hoped that you and Aemond would end up together, you know," she says with a sad little smile, "I know you were best friends, but I always had a feeling, always.
At that moment… how you wished her words would have been true.
How you would have wanted that to happen.
You think with illusion, sadness and disappointment, and then just try to smile even a little in her direction, say goodbye one last time and leave.
Later that night, after crying a little and trying to cheer yourself up by getting ready to go to the party with your friends, you arrive at the frat house and the party starts right then and there.
At first, cautious, you are kept alert by the fact that Aemond could probably be here with his girlfriend or with his friends, or maybe both.
But fortunately for you, there is no silver-haired guy with a black haired girl in the crowd, so you can feel at peace.
Immediately the party games like beer pong and drinking begin.
Until at some point of the party, you realize while talking and having fun with Aileen, that again Ryan's friends have joined the group, three guys exactly.
And as you're all dancing together, having a good time, you're drinking and forgetting about everything, really enjoying yourself, you suddenly find yourself dancing and singing the songs at the top of your lungs with one of Ryan's friends, Cregan Stark.
A tall guy, dark brown hair, with black eyes and features that can't go unnoticed.
Cregan seems to have his eye on you and you have yours on him.
Eventually the two start talking, being close, dancing together, even taking pictures and videos of each other, and then the two sit on one of the sofas and continue talking.
The two very close to each other to the point of almost kissing.
Maybe it was the alcohol, the moment, the party or just that you wanted to have this kind of moments with some guy, because Cregan is really handsome and you really wanted to kiss him.
However, all the guys arrived just at that moment to keep you company and rest a bit after having been dancing for a while.
Cregan didn't seem to mind, you didn't really either, you both just smiled at each other, although he had that little disappointment on his face from the interruption.
It remained as that pending between you and that's why he asked for your number.
The next day, apparently that interaction and closeness between you and Cregan was noticed by everyone, but more so by your friends who squeal and excitedly talk about him and you.
You find out that he's a law student, a year older than you, likes dogs, plays the guitar, and apparently isn't dating anyone.
You didn't want to get your hopes up with him, because you knew that meeting a guy and him suddenly having an interest in you at a party is usually not a long-term interest and is just for the moment.
But the expectation went up the moment he texts you and asks you if you want to have coffee with him on Tuesday morning before you both have your respective classes.
And you respond, or well, your friends respond more excitedly than you, that you accept.
"Girl, the guy is handsome, tall, funny and a really nice guy, what more could you ask for?"
And in that, Aileen is right. However… there is a problem. And that problem has a name: Aemond.
Aemond has ruined every guy for you in many ways, both physically and personality-wise.
And even though he wasn't like that, he really was a very bad friend to you and all his decisions hurt you. That's why agreeing to date Cregan is easy.
You also tell yourself that Aemond doesn't matter anymore. He has a girlfriend, he's living his life apart, and so are you, and you and he are no longer friends.
So once Cregan tells you that he is already waiting for you outside your dorm, you rush out.
Excitedly you take one last look in your mirror, make sure nothing is out of place, also make sure Vhagar is okay and head for the door to leave with your backpack on your shoulder and your phone in hand.
But when you opened the door, you clearly didn't expect to see your ex-best friend about to knock on your door with a totally bewildered, confused, worried and to some extent distressed and desperate look on his face.
"Y/N...
And you are totally paralyzed the moment your name leaves his lips.
At first, you don't understand what he is doing here or how he knew exactly where you were now since you didn't tell Helaena anything about your new home.
In fact, you didn't say anything to anyone he and you know together. However, you do know him.
You know that he just by asking anyone he can find out anything he wants to know, including finding people, simply because he is Aemond Targaryen.
And then you start to panic and you feel very nervous because he's really here.
"W-what are you doing here?" you ask him in a bewildered whisper.
In an instant you tense up and hold tightly to the edge of your door, watching him intently and alertly.
"What am I doing here?" he asks in a totally bewildered voice, "What are you doing here?" he says, now certainly annoyed.
"I-I don't… I don't have time for this, okay?"
You try to walk past him, bearing in mind that Cregan is waiting for you outside and you don't want to keep him waiting any longer.
But you can't stop your heart from beating too fast and you can't stop this agonizing feeling in your gut at the sight of him now after so many weeks.
"Are you serious?"
He stops you by taking your arm in a firm grip, making you stand in front of him again, with the most bewildered, confused and annoyed look you've ever seen on his face.
"I come home calling you, wanting to talk to you, having this stupid idea that you were busy or something, only to find out that Vhagar isn't there, neither are you and neither are your things," he says to you incredulously, "I thought something bad had happened to you Y/N, I was so worried. I started to go crazy because I couldn't even call you or send you messages, nothing was getting through to you."
And at that moment, everything you were feeling, is replaced by hatred and anger for very clear reasons and that he, seeming surprising to you, doesn't see or even realize.
He probably wanted to talk to you about your birthday, but he couldn't call or text you because since you moved out and he had no idea, you decided to block him from everywhere.
But really, even though you feel weak from his unexpected appearance, his words don't make you feel anything but hurt and angry.
"And do you have any fucking idea how it made me feel when I called Helaena and she told me you got a job and moved into a fucking dorm just making everything worse?" he asks you annoyed, "All this without me having a fucking idea, Y/N."
The way he tells you everything, you immediately tell yourself that you won't react the same way even though all that flows through your system is one thing: anger.
So instead of talking to him in annoyance because you don't want to and don't have the time to explain yourself more than necessary, you talk to him calmly in comparison to him.
He is visibly frustrated and looks more bewildered than ever.
"Maybe you would have known… if you had answered my calls or messages, Aemond. Or if you had shown up even once at your apartment."
And you overemphasize your apartment.
"All that was over a week ago, much longer in fact, and you barely care to know about me or Vhagar," you say bitterly.
He shakes his head, looking more distressed and worried than before.
"I-I…" He lets out a long breath, "And what the fuck is this supposed to mean?"
He asks you again in annoyance, clearly after he has no idea what to say to the previous and from his jacket pocket he takes out the money you gave to Helaena for him and also the key to his apartment.
"For your troubles?" he raises the money in annoyance, "And the key for what? Are you really going to stay here definitely?"
"The money is because I didn't give you a single penny to help you financially and the key so you have more privacy with Alys every time you get home and I don't have to be there locked up in my room… stopping you," you explain without much interest, "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" you raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.
But he is speechless, staring at you in surprise, bewilderment and anguish, his whole worried expression speaking for itself.
"Did you…" he pauses in concern, "Did you hear us that night?"
You deliberately ignore his question.
"You wanted me to meet new people and go out more, also give you your privacy…well, I'm doing exactly that. Now leave and don't ever come back."
And without further ado you close the door behind you firmly and walk away from him to head for the stairs and finally leave to meet Cregan.
But because of the circumstances and everything Aemond must be feeling, he doesn't let you go so easily.
"Hey, no, stop," he says in a warning tone and then grabs your arm and immobilizes you as you turn towards him.
"Let go of me."
"Y/N…
"I have to go. Someone is waiting for me."
"Y/N, please…" he calls pleadingly, "You don't have to lie, I-I…" he runs a hand over his frustrated and anguished face, "Was all this for your birthday?"
At his question, you say nothing, just continue to stare at him with the most serious look ever, now just pressing your lips together and waiting for him to let go so you can leave.
"Y/N…" he calls you cautiously and with worry in his eyes, "I know I fucked up, I know that….
"Oh please, Aemond," you exclaim irritated, "I don't need any more of your pity, okay? I really don't care what you have to say, it's all done. I gave you the key back and the money too, didn't I? Now you won't have to pity me anymore and your girlfriend will be pleased to know that I won't interfere with your plans anymore."
He lets out a long breath, more frustrated than before and completely irritated by your words.
"It doesn't matter what you heard that night, Y/N. It doesn't matter what Alys said either," he tells you in desperation.
But you don't care anymore.
"I've done my part, now leave me alone."
Again you try to leave but he again won't let you go.
"Will you stop running away!? I want to talk to you, I want to fix this!" he says in exasperation, "I don't want your key and I certainly don't want your fucking money, I want you back with me!"
And that's when you can't take it any longer and you finally explode in anger at him.
"Now you want me to be with you after always leaving me out of all the plans we made for your girlfriend and leaving me living alone!? Do you really think I even want to see you and be in the same place as you after everything you done!?"
He is about to answer you, but a third voice between you stops him and also the whole discussion between the two of you.
"Y/N?"
Both you and Aemond turn your heads and from the stairs Cregan Stark looks curiously between you and Aemond, almost worried.
You know your screams must have been heard all the way to the first floor considering your room is on the second.
"Is everything all right here?" he asks you softly and attentively, turning to you.
Feeling embarrassed that he might have heard everything, which is most likely, you finally loosen your grip on Aemond and control yourself by telling yourself that it's all over now.
"Yes, everything is fine," you put on your best face, or try to, "Sorry, I was on my way out. I didn't want to keep you waiting too long."
"No, it's fine," he says nonchalantly, "Although I did come to hurry you a little," he confesses with a small, embarrassed smile, "At the coffee shop we're going to, the coffee you like is on promotion, but only until ten o'clock, so I want to get there to buy it for you."
In other circumstances, Cregan's words would have made you feel on the clouds, but because of what was happening before and with Aemond present, his words have no effect on you.
Especially because of Aemond's confused and intimidating look at Cregan, clearly annoyed by the interruption, as well as wanting to know who this guy is and realizing that you really had someone waiting for you.
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," you nod in his direction, "He was just leaving too."
You say with a certain bitter and obvious tone turning your head towards Aemond, but without looking at him to which you immediately feel his gaze on you, but you ignore him.
And not wanting to keep Cregan waiting any longer, you head towards him, take him by the arm and lead him along with you towards the stairs, leaving Aemond behind.
After you and Cregan start heading towards the coffe shop, you try to pay attention to everything he tells you, but you can't.
You pretend to listen to him and collaborate a little in his conversation, feeling bad about yourself but you can't help it since all you can think about is Aemond.
And even though Cregan tries to bring up the subject, clearly because it's obvious he heard you were arguing, you quickly evade him.
However, he tells you that he believes he has seen Aemond before and has heard a lot about him. Also of his sister, Helaena.
But overall, this going out or rather date? with Cregan… did not turn out as you expected and as you wanted it to because of Aemond's unexpected visit to your new home.
And once again, you find yourself out of balance because of what happened with him now.
Latch by Disclosure and Sam Smith is heard throughout the house of the most popular party frat house and the one that never disappoints.
At first, you thought about not partying with your friends and Cregan since you weren't in the mood and didn't want to have to deal with a hangover the next day.
However, Cregan is the one who convinces you and now the two of you are dancing along with all your other friends having a good time, singing at the top of your lungs and forgetting about everything.
The whole party is going amazing, you're still not drinking too much, you're having fun with your friends and Cregan most of all.
Until you are catching your breath to continue dancing with Cregan, both of you apart and talking, suddenly your gaze is focused on the entrance of the house and Aemond Targaryen makes an appearance holding Alys' hand with all his friends also entering behind him.
Instantly you want to leave, because you know you don't feel comfortable now with the presence of your ex best friend knowing what happened the last time you saw each other.
And even more so when he notices you standing apart, with that guy from before, the two of you very close and talking, now realizing your presence.
But you pretend not to see him even though your heart starts beating fast when you feel his gaze.
When you stop feeling that he is looking at you, then you see him and still holding hands with Alys both of them go to the kitchen. And that's when you say to yourself: no.
He is not going to ruin this party with your friends. He came here for the sole purpose of having fun, which is the point of the party and so are you.
You decide to leave the feelings behind and continue having fun as before.
You drink some more, resume dancing, singing and playing party games, just forget about him and focus on you, what you are doing and the people around you.
When in the kitchen, while you are pouring more drinks for Cregan and yourself, something happens that you least expected and that causes you a lot of confusion at the same time.
However, somehow you must have known that Aemond would be coming for you.
"Y/N."
He calls out to you and when you look at him, you again meet his gaze a little worried but also hopeful that he might talk to you.
But of course, Alys must be by his side clinging to his right arm, watching you with a certain indifference.
And you, preferring a thousand times to ignore it, unfortunately still do not finish preparing the drinks, so you decide to act indifferent.
"Yes?" you say without even looking at him.
And just with your indifference, which Aemond notices perfectly, only makes him more frustrated, but not wanting to explode again against you, he can only try to relax and start with what he wants to say as calmly as possible so as not to push you away.
"Are you…" he swallows hard, looking at you apologetically and a bit nervously, "Are you enjoying the party?"
However, his question couldn't have been more pathetic for you.
"Yes, very much in fact."
You answer without further ado, putting everything back in its place to finally get out of the way and leave. And that's what you do, you turn around with your drinks in hand and walk away.
But he stops you instantly by standing in front of you.
"Y/N," he calls out to you pleadingly, "Can we go outside and talk, please?"
And you, wanting to take your indifference further, even more with Alys' presence, that's exactly what you do.
"About what?"
"About the other day," he tells you more cautious and attentive than before.
And you frown at him.
"Was there anything else to say?"
He lets out a long sigh.
"Y/N, please…
"There you are!"
Again Cregan's voice interrupts the conversation between the two of you and Cregan, without even noticing Aemond, turns to you with a small smile on his lips.
"I went to the bathroom for two seconds and I had already lost you," he says amused, "You need help?"
He points to the drinks and you nod.
"Yes," you extend one to him, placing a soft smile in his direction, "This one's yours, actually.
"Thank you, my pretty."
And maybe it had been again the interruption of the same boy from the other day, that makes Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.
But maybe it's more from the fact that he tenses up and watches him with a clenched jaw as he hears that word from him towards you.
Pretty.
Both he and you think, but you really couldn't care less as you watch between Cregan and him over the nickname.
And feeling Aemond's burning gaze, Cregan finally seems to notice the presence of Aemond Targaryen himself.
"Oh, hey," he smiles friendly, "Sorry, we've met before, haven't we?"
And Aemond, really annoyed, just bites the inside of his cheek and avoids showing his irritation, as well as the discontent he feels towards the guy.
"Yes," he says without looking at him, with a cutting tone, focusing again on you.
"Yes, sorry again," Cregan tells him again, "It's just that we weren't introduced."
And after Cregan says that, you're sorry but you want to murder him.
Especially since now Cregan is watching you too, already having the smoldering stare of your ex best at you and the guy you're apparently starting to have… something with.
Not to mention the judgmental and irritated look from Alys as well.
And you, having no choice, introduce them to each other.
"Aemond, this is Cregan, my friend," you point to Cregan, "And Cregan, this is Aemond, an old classmate at high school."
And finally you point to Aemond, without looking at him too much.
And again, everything in Aemond contracts and his whole bewildered look is reflected on his face after hearing your words.
Even Alys stirs in her place, watching Aemond intently.
A strange feeling in his chest invades him and all his disappointment, as well as his sadness, is reflected even though he tries not to be.
But the way you said it, your look, your attitude, everything about you makes him feel miserable and makes him recognize that he has definitely lost you.
Especially because after that, you don't waste any more time, you take Cregan by the hand and excuse both of you to go back to your friends, not wanting to be around him anymore.
After the party goes on, Aemond can't enjoy the moment. Even Alys next to him doesn't get his attention, neither do his friends.
All he sees is you, with him, the two of you dancing, laughing and close to each other.
He's certainly never seen you having fun like that before, never in the company of a guy he admits he recognizes; he seems like a really nice guy.
An unpleasant feeling turns his stomach and he feels it in his chest again when you laugh at something he has said, he slips an arm around your shoulders and leaves a kiss on your cheek.
His jaw tenses and he can't take his eye off of you, to some extent starting to annoy Alys by his lack of attention.
And Aemond loses it completely the moment he turns his face towards you, you turn your face towards him and the two of you kiss.
All the friendship that the two of you and Aemond used to have, you and Aemond, passes right in front of him in that moment.
Everything, from the beginning, from high school to college, with both of you moving into the apartment, having movie nights, having breakfast and dinner together, grocery shopping, everything.
As well as all the bad stuff caused by him, which he admits to, like all those nights he left you behind for Alys, the ball and your birthday.
Unable to take it anymore, totally ignoring Alys and everyone, with the hardest look on his face, he leaves the house in an act of desperation and
He moves away from all the people, from Alys, from you, because he can't see you having fun without him, he can't see you with other people, because it was always him.
And knowing that he was the one who caused your friendship to end, he takes a seat on the stairs leading to the house and starts smoking.
But even he doesn't understand himself.
Isn't this what you wanted?
His mind asks him, as confused as he is, who with a bad face and feeling like a complete idiot, continues smoking, thinking that it would be better to go back home.
But without you… it doesn't feel like that anymore.
He stays thinking for a long time, without Alys bothering to look for him, which he is grateful for since he has more time with himself.
While you, still at the party, continue drinking and sharing a kiss or two with Cregan, not really caring that you're among friends and other people.
But the moment with Cregan ends when he tells you that he has to leave, even showing you some messages from his sister asking him to pick her up at a party outside the university.
He asks you if you want him to leave you too, but you prefer to continue having fun for a while longer. You both say goodbye and stay with your friends.
Not long after, however, they all get really drunk. Even Ryan.
So as the four of you leave the house, ordering Uber's and laughing amongst yourselves, that's when Aemond sees you.
Confused, he throws the rest of his cigarette away and stands up from the stairs, watching you intently. And noticing your condition, he actually gets worried.
You can't even stand firmly on your feet.
And all you remember is having a brief conversation or discussion with someone, that someone also talking to Ryan, then you feel yourself being carried, you protest a little, and then all goes dark.
The moment you open your eyes, completely numb and feeling like a mess, the pain in your throat, body and head begins.
You groan under your breath, scrunching up your face and holding a hand to your forehead, feeling as if your head is about to explode in constant sharp pain.
You let out a sigh, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself down so you can get through the pain easier, but it's impossible.
You drank too much, that's for sure, your body is confirming it. But what you don't know is where you are.
Alarmed, you quickly reopen your eyes and look around you, worrying because you don't remember who you left with last night and whether you came to your room or someone else's.
When your whole face contorts in confusion as you realize that this room is not yours, nor is it Sara's or Aileen's room. In fact, this room you know and you know it very well.
You open your eyes wide and don't understand anything, beginning to get seriously alarmed and worried.
What the fuck am I doing in Aemond's room?
You think to yourself as you force yourself to ignore all the internal pain you are feeling and get out of bed.
You quickly put on your shoes, make sure you have all your things with you and leave the room, hoping he's not here.
But of course he must be, because as you walk out into the hallway, with your things held against your chest, you hear sounds and very low music coming from the kitchen.
And as you slowly, cautiously approach, you see him, preparing breakfast, moving back and forth across the kitchen with his back to you.
Hopeful, you watch the door ahead a few feet away from you, then look cautiously again at Aemond, who fortunately has not noticed your presence.
You think to yourself that you could head for the door without making a sound and leave without him noticing. Being here with him in your old home doesn't please you, especially since you don't understand how you got here last night with him.
But you don't care, all you want to do is leave.
However, before you can try to do anything, he turns to grab something from the counter and sees you.
"Oh, you're awake," he says with a soft tone and a calm look.
At this, you don't say anything, you just watch him, hoping that by your look and your posture he understands that you already want to leave.
But he, at your lack of words, continues trying.
"You must be feeling very bad, you were very drunk last night. Here I have left you a glass of water and a pill, it will help you after you finish breakfast," he points to the bar, effectively pointing to a glass of water and a pill."
You look away from him for a second, wanting to let out a snort, since you definitely don't plan to stay here for breakfast and it's silly of him to think so just because you're here.
"What am I doing here?" you ask him, serious.
And by your tone of voice, Aemond is surprised and also disappointed, since he thought that things between you and him would never be like this again.
But how wrong he was.
Still, with relaxed posture and soft tone, he answers you to keep the peace as much as possible between the two of you and you don't leave, which is what he fears the most.
"You were very drunk last night, and so were all your friends," he explains.
"Ryan was supposed to take me and my friends to my doorm," you tell him seriously.
"Your friend was really drunk too, Y/N," he says in a more serious tone, "He couldn't handle the three of you. And I certainly wasn't going to let you go in that state, you could barely walk.
You press your lips together, thinking about the party and your friends, to again look at the door in front of you.
"Well… thank you, but I didn't need your help," you say curtly, "Not now either."
And without further ado you head for the door, catching Aemond unawares, who quickly reacts and stands in front of you, grabbing your arm.
"Y/N, please wait…
"I need to go.
"Where to?" he asks frustrated, not believing you.
"That doesn't concern you. I don't want to be here," you tell him annoyed, again trying to pass by his side, but he doesn't let you.
"Please," he repeats pleadingly, "Please don't do this anymore. Just stay."
"Let me go and let me pass," you warn him.
"At least just stay for breakfast," he insists desperately, "Let's talk and then I will take you to your dorm, I pro….
"Will you stop!?"
You explode furiously at him, unable to hold back any longer, feeling more headache and pain all over your body, but you don't care because you're tired, you're fed up and because you've had enough.
While he remains completely silent and observes you slightly surprised by your reaction, since he had certainly never seen you like this before.
At least not with him.
"I don't want to be here, I don't want to have breakfast with you, I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to see you!" you exclaim annoyed, "Can't you really see that? Can't you see that you and I are no longer friends? Can't you see that you're hurting me?"
"Y/N…" he says to you in a low tone, with a thread of voice: "Don't say that...
"You shouldn't have brought me here, you shouldn't have even tried to talk to me, because I don't want to talk to you, I want to get away from you and I want you to respect that!"
And without being able to stand it anymore, tears start to run down your cheeks, but you ignore it totally and continue watching Aemond with the most hurt look of all.
"Stop trying to play savior with me Aemond, because I've had enough."
"Playing savior with you?" he repeats in bewilderment, "Y/N, you are my best friend, I don't….
"No, that's not true, I'm not your best friend, I'm nothing!" you blurt out again furious, "A best friend doesn't hurt his best friend, doesn't leave her aside for a relationship, doesn't replace her, doesn't leave her living alone and certainly doesn't forget her fucking birthday, Aemond!"
Then again Aemond is speechless, watching you with his eye wide open, his lips half open, while you start crying in earnest, unable to control yourself.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he says to you, in a low, broken-toned whisper.
"No, you're not!" you reproach him, upset, crying, feeling broken, "If you were really sorry, you would have apologized since after my birthday, not until now that weeks have passed," you tell him hurt, "And that hurts, Aemond, it hurts that until now you have realized it, that until now you are looking for me, always treating me as the second option!"
The first tear falls down Aemond's right cheek, looking at you with a hard, but still broken expression.
"I'm so sorry, I really am. I care about you, you know that….
"No, that's not true, you don't, you don't care about me!" you contradict him again, crying.
And finally you are able to pass by his side, leaving him in a state just as broken as you are, while you wipe your tears and try to control yourself, when you can't. You still want much, much more.
There is still much, much more you want to say and you say it as you stop before you touch the door and stare at Aemond with as much sadness, hatred and anger as you can.
"You left me aside for Alys, you included her and took me out of our plans, you left me living alone here with Vhagar, you forgot my fucking bir…
You stop, sobbing and breathing hard, trying to calm yourself down.
"You forgot my fucking birthday for her and her parents while I was waiting for you, believing your stupid promises so that in the end you never showed up and only to remember me weeks later and a real friend doesn't do shit like that to his best friend if he really cared, Aemond!" you tell him crying, "I never was that way with you and believe me that having a boyfriend even so I wouldn't have been."
Then everything, both for him and for you stops, because hearing you crying and seeing you so broken, leaves him completely immobile and as broken as you are by your words.
Words and feelings of yours that he had no idea about.
While you, unable to take it anymore, finally open the apartment door and leave, wanting to get away from here and him, because that's what you want and…. he lets you.
He doesn't go after you, like he would have, because your words, everything about you, has left him completely paralyzed. He had never seen you like that, so destroyed and in tears.
And that he was responsible for those reactions of yours, reactions that he hates to see in you, makes him feel more stupid and guilty than ever.
And at that moment he realizes, that this time he has definitely lost you and in a very bad way. He has lost his best friend because of his own actions.
He feels miserable. More miserable than you.
And after that… nothing was ever the same again, both for him and for you.
You didn't see each other again after what happened in his apartment, you didn't even hear from each other through social media, because you had blocked him from everywhere and that's just felt better.
The two of you continued with your classes and in separate ways, as before, only now he was also aware of it and not only you, now with the difference that the friendship between the two of you no longer exists.
To a certain point you knew that he was still having a relationship with Alys Rivers, while you, you had to realize that starting something with Cregan, something more formal, would not be possible, at least not on your part.
You are still so in love with your best friend and so hurt that you didn't want to start something with Cregan knowing that you didn't feel anything beyond that for him. You didn't want him to be your distraction, because it wasn't right.
Your distraction was something else, something you still don't know what it is but you desperately need. Until two weeks after what happened with Aemond, that distraction showed up.
At the end of another semester of your career, an exchange program was opened for the next semester with destinations to Winterfell, the Iron Islands, Casterly Rock, Highgarden and Dorne.
There were also destinations to Essos, but you decided it would be best to go to Highgarden since with your excellent academic record, you entered the program with all expenses paid.
At the same time that you would go to classes, you would also have your internship with one of the best psychologists by being his assistant and start training yourself with his cases. You would even get paid for it.
The semester lasts six months, six months away from Kings Landing, that being exactly what you need.
So after going through all the necessary processes, you were finally given a departure date to Highgarden to begin a brief but important chapter in your life.
You gave the news to your parents, who were happy for you, wished you much success, and even let Helaena know who texted you to ask how you were doing. You never tried to talk to him.
And after the day arrives, happy and at ease with yourself, you board the plane taking Vhagar with you and hope that this will help you put it all behind you.
While still at Kings Landing University, in one of the coffee shops on campus, Helaena and Aemond Targaryen enjoy a good coffee, both serious, not talking much, just him and Helaena lost in their thoughts.
Helaena let him know the news and honestly, he doesn't know how to feel.
He is happy for you, but knowing that you are gone and will be back in up to six months, with no more friendship between the two of you, makes him feel even more miserable.
"She's in love with you, you know?"
The sweet voice of his sweet sister makes Aemond, in a fatal state, as if he hadn't slept well for days, raise his gaze towards her without really having much expression.
As Helaena shows him with her gaze how terribly honest she is being with him at that moment.
"She didn't tell me anything, but I just know," she explains.
And Aemond again lowers his gaze, running a hand over his chin, letting out a long breath.
"You really fucked up, Aemond. I can't believe you were such an idiot."
"I know," he says in a low, emotionless whisper, "You don't have to say it again, I know."
"So what then?" she says, "Get that brilliant brain of yours working. You can't be the smartest guy in your class and at the same time the biggest idiot with the girl who has always been there for you."
He shakes his head, only feeling worse just talking about you.
"Hel, I don't want to…
"Are you really going to let her go?"
His sister interrupts him with a look more expectant than ever, watching him attentively, while he swallows hard and observes with a serious and sad look Helaena in front of him.
And he doesn't answer because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't have an answer to that question, mostly because he hadn't thought about it before.
Will I really let her go?
He asks himself, but the truth is… he doesn't know.
Aemond knows it's already too late but he also feels that that's not entirely true. Maybe, just maybe… he has another chance. And his last.
thank you very much for reading and for joining me in this short way, it makes me so happy that you liked cardigan very much, there are more stories for you on the way, wait for them:)
besides, there's still the epilogue, that's when we'll say goodbye to this story for good🥺❣
@letmeloveyouuuu @ohdemimonde @carriellie @jennifer0305 @serving-targaryen-realness @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ttkttt @melllinaa @nyenye @hoziersfairy @introverbatim @happinessinthebeing @hnslchw @padfooteyes @riseandreigns4u @shessthunderstoms @strangersunghoon @aemondslefteyeball @1950schick @ammo23 @targaryenmoony
there were many of you that I could not add to the taglist, an apology.
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What Do They Daydream About You?
How To Pick A Pile:
Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.
Quick notes on this reading:
I'm experimenting with a different style. -- I've been working on shorter, less structured, formal pacs (and some longer ones). I'm not sure how I feel about it but I'd like to hear your thoughts too!
I apologise for any errors. -- My immune system and I have literally been at war for weeks, so know if there are any errors, I probably missed it while wincing in pain. 😅
It's purely for entertainment purposes. -- Don't think I need to explain more. Take what resonates be it all of it, some of it or none at all.
PILE 1
14:44 as I pulled the last card, maybe 444 is of importance to you at the moment.
Knight in shining armour vibes. Noble acts or intentions of just sweeping you off your feet. Introducing you to their friends and or family. Daydreams of big celebrations of being with you, internally and externally. For some, they daydream about celebrating the news of having a child with you. Finding peace after long struggles... starting anew with you. Domestic bliss, as in chilling at home with someone you love, not doing much of anything. Or simply enjoying the mundane tasks together. Going for walks. Having a cup of tea or coffee together. Peppering your skin with kisses... maybe physical touch is their love language. The ghost of their fingertips on your skin. Heart-to-heart conversations. Falling into a routine with you. The magic of embarking on new beginnings with you.
PILE 2
North Star Vibes. Holding out hope that they make it to you. Trying to make life better so they can show up for you. They daydream about how you make them stronger, about you being a good influence on them. It's like the thought of you soothes them when they're struggling. Dreaming that happiness is coming in the form of you. Lots of fiery energy. You're a symbol of hope. Rediscovering what they had lost with you. Feels like someone who has been through a lot. Playfulness. Daydreaming about you is embodying those feelings that seem long forgotten. I know I keep repeating the same thing over and over, but I'm not getting anything more than that (even when I go back to the literal meaning of the cards) so I pulled some love messages. There's the cards 'twin flame', 'finding myself' and 'still listening'. My interpretation is that daydreaming about you holds a mirror up to themselves which inspires them to look deeper within and figure out what they want and who they want to be. They could also find solace in music, they may have a song or playlist that makes them feel more connected to you.
PILE 3
If you were drawn to pile 2, consider checking out that pile as well too. 333. The number 3 could hold some sort of significance.
Dreaming of an equal. Someone to keep them balanced and bring a new perspective. They could feel as though (or know) some kind of scrutiny is possible, but they spend their time dreaming of overcoming it. There could be cultural differences or for some it's a matter of being in a same-sex relationship or anything that goes against what may be more commonly accepted. If it's of any significance, the red string of fate (two different decks mention it). Power couple vibes. Being able to maintain a sense of youthfulness in the relationship. Someone who won't try to take advantage of them, who'll push them to be better and vice versa, who'll look out for them. Someone to heal with and understand that they are still healing. They could dream of having a child with you or starting a family in whatever format that may look like to both of you. Daydreams of warmth & protection. Giving and receiving. You could possibly meet at a concert or connect over music.
PILE 4
I did a repull to make sure I was reading the cards right (it was stormy) and the same cards came out after reshuffling (minus one card). I feel like this person has been reborn. Who they were is not who they are now (or when you meet them). They could daydream of being divinely guided towards you. Someone spiritual or religious. At the very least finding a connection with something (a concept) greater than them. Daydreams of being guided towards happiness. They had a teardown and rebuild of who they are. They could be from a different location, you could meet when travelling across a large body of water. It feels like they're dreaming of coming in hot. They're paving the way for their happy ending. Take it as you will, but instead of a 'damsel in distress' (regardless of gender, it's just women on the cards depicting forging on) type of story, it's one of those ones where it's like "you know what, I'll save myself and I'll chase after my happy ending". Actually, I get a-spec vibes as well and that this person could be a platonic love or a strong platonic bond. It could even be you respectively. But the energy is one of being inspired and ever-lasting bonds. A new resolve, coming home to oneself, resting in the knowledge that the future is going to be good because you'll make it so.
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I Saw Wish
And it was the worst animated Disney movie I’ve ever seen. I have to watch it again before I can get into the nitty gritty details. But I don’t need details to sum it up, because my dad actually said it perfectly as we left the theater:
“It was like someone who didn’t really understand Disney movies tried to make a Disney movie.”
Both the form (the technical arts of filmmaking) and the content (the morals, values, and themes of the movie) were totally horrible.
I don’t know who’s fault it was. Jeremy Spears was in the storyboard room and Mark Henn and Eric Goldberg did some 2D animation. But they must have gotten outvoted, or they must not care anymore.
Because holy cow. Here’s some stuff that’s just off the top of my head.
SPOILERS. Not that it matters, because nothing interesting happens in this movie.
The writing? Terrible. Ninety percent of it feels like the characters are filling time with quirky one-liners that are trying too hard to be appealing, then failing, then taking you out of the movie. The jokes aren’t funny. The characters just respond to each other in conversation to check a one-liner box. The other twenty percent is whole conversations repeating tell-don’t-show exposition that has already been covered, usually twice, in previous scenes. Like if in Tangled, every scene had included some variation of Rapunzel saying to friends and enemies alike, “I have to see the floating lights so I’m sneaking to the castle with this thief who wants a mysterious tiara I hid from him. Don’t tell my mother, she’s a bit overprotective!” Over. And over. And over.
The character motivations are way too broad. Asha? Her dream is just “that everybody around me gets to be happy.” That’s it, in a nutshell. No deeper exploration of that. Nobody asks, “why do you care so much?” Nobody tries to convince her she should look out for herself, and then she proves she was right all along. The King? We are told (not shown) that he doesn’t want anyone else’s dreams to be “destroyed.” But he in no believable way expresses that that motivation is still what’s driving him during the movie—what’s driving him is just a plain old lust for power, no nuance.
By the way, the whole premise of the movie? Undercooked. Half-baked concepts strung together with no definitive meaning. Therefore, it’s not believable. Example: The characters act like the wishes are beautiful—well, actually, no, this movie doesn’t know how to show, so there’s not a lot of meaningful acting—the characters just tell us that wishes are “the most beautiful part of someone,” and that’s why it’s worth going through this adventure to give their wishes back to them. But there’s no proof of that in the movie. In fact, it directly kicks it’s own legs out from under that idea, because it has every character who gives up their wish forget that part of themselves. Asha’s grandfather has forgotten his wish, but that doesn’t make him any less “beautiful.” She, and everyone, still treats him like he’s this wonderful old man who deserves the world, who everyone loves…but why is he so appealing? If he “gave up the most beautiful part of him?” The only character who is changed by their lack-of-wish is the Sleepy-analogue character…who is just sleepy, which is described as “boring.” But nobody else who’s given up their wish in the whole kingdom acts like that. It’s just him. Also, the King acts like it’s so important to protect the wishes from destruction. But what does destroying a wish look like? That actually happens to Asha’s mom. Her wish-bubble is broken, literally, and she just says she feels grief. But like. Why? She never remembered it in the first place; it had been missing from her life for years. Also, what the heck is a wish?! It seems to range from broad concepts like “inspire people” to “fly.” Just “fly,” like a bird. The desire to levitate off the ground is the most important, beautiful essence of one background character. Like, what?! But no character ever has the why behind their wish to make us care.
I could go on and on about that point. Like, think about Disney movies that wrote the book on how to make movies about characters with wishes. If Ariel were in Wish, her bubble would look like “dancing and learning and exploring on the Surface with someone who understands her.” But we believe that that is her real, genuine wish, and that it matters to her, because we are shown why being understood is so important to her. Because it’s missing from her life. There’s a scene where she explores a boat alone, and even her best friend doesn’t get excited about it with her. Her dad won’t listen to her point of view. Her siblings don’t ask her about her life even when they think she’s in love. She wants what she wants because of pieces of her life that we are shown.
We are never shown why Asha’s grandfather is obsessed with inspiring people, so we have no reason to believe it, or care whether he gets it or not. We can’t feel disappointed when his wish is said to “never come true,” like we did when Quasimodo was abused by the people he wished to join. We can’t feel elated when he finally “gets” his wish, like we did when Simba smiles on Pride Rock remembering the same way he used to as a cub and claims the crown with a roar. We don’t have anything to hang on to, nothing to relate to, nothing to grasp and feel with the characters. So we don’t feel, because they didn’t put the work in to help us feel. They just say, “the mom’s feeling grief. Feel grief.” And expect us to do the work ourselves. I have to stop harping on this point and move on.
But The main point of the movie is very broad because of that lazy premise, and it’s barely reinforced by any kind of appealing storytelling. If I had to guess, the point would be “Keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” But the story they told to communicate that meaning was so unimpactful. Asha doesn’t have a dream of her own that’s such hard work to accomplish! (Neither does her grandfather; his wish is “to inspire people.” And at the end, we’re supposed to see him strumming a guitar and believe it’s inspiring? We were never shown how he worked hard to learn how to play the instrument. Or that he carved it with his own hands, or anything like that. So there’s no meaningful demonstration of working hard for it or achieving your wish even if it’s far out of reach.) And nobody except the king is trying to take wishes away from anyone, and he just does it literally, after they voluntarily give them to him, so there’s not even any impactful demonstration of “don’t let anyone tell you your wishes are dumb or unachievable, or stop you from reaching them.” Even when he takes them away, it’s just because they…could, someday, be used to threaten his kingdom in a vague, really unlikely way. There are so many things you could do with “keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” For instance; you could say the main character has always been afraid to dream (wish for more), because maybe when she was a kid something wonderful almost happened but ended in tragedy, so she keeps her head down and doesn’t want much because if you don’t dream you’ll never be disappointed. She takes no risks, and has to learn that sometimes trying and failing is worth more than slogging through life all self-protective. I mean, the pieces were right there. She has this line about her dad, and how she wished he would get better but then he died. She has lines about how nobody should have to live with grief?? Then that’s never addressed again! It’s just a throwaway emotion-moment with no buildup or follow-through to tie it to and support that main theme.
The compositions of too many shots were so terrible. Characters got cut off in weird places. One shot has Asha dead center, with her grandfather on the left side of the table and her mother on the right, having a family dinner with a super exposition-heavy conversation that is meant to be emotionally charged. But despite everything else being perfectly centered, half of her mother’s body is chopped off. The movie’s shot like someone’s mom who doesn’t understand technology tried to take a video with her phone.
The charm of the art “style” wears off basically immediately. I know what they were going for. I see the sketch lines and watercolor textures. This is maybe the first time Disney ever failed to accomplish a visual “look” that turned out good. Everything looks dull. Muted. De-saturated. Slightly out of focus, but not in a cool Spider-Verse way. The sets or backgrounds are lazy; at no point does the scenery look complete; big, empty, boring spaces that do not create any kind of “stage” for impactful moments. The rendering looks unfinished. When Asha’s hair moves during her belting of the “I Make This Wish” song, it’s bad. It’s unnatural. It flops in a way that doesn’t make sense for the weight of her hair. The most impactful visual moments come from the villain, and they’re moments when he looks way too unhinged for the kind of line he’s saying.
There is no interesting character development. Asha goes from believing everyone is basically good and their wishes deserve the chance to come true , to….that, again. That would be fine, she could be a static character, if she proved contrast-characters wrong, in a believable way. But she never does. Because no other characters argue with her except the King. And it goes no deeper than “everyone’s wishes are basically good and they deserve the chance to make them true” vs. “nuh-uh, because I get to decide what makes them deserving.” The King doesn’t have any kind of interesting development, either. They don’t expand on his tragic backstory—it consists of one drawing of him near a broken boat, and a few images of the corner burned off of his family taoestry. They never say “King Magnifico wished for _____ and it was taken away!” They literally never tell you what his wish or dreams were, or what motivated him to create the whole kingdom that the movie’s premise sits on. So there’s no convincing sense of progression, how he got this way, why he’ll keep going “so far.”
The pacing is weird. It undercuts every moment that could have any kind of emotion behind it. One minute Valentino is suavely bouncing around, then he’s given a two-second beat to blubber with badly-animated tears that he’ll miss Star—then he instantly gets to have another funny one-liner so we forget he might’ve been sad a second ago. We’re clearly supposed to believe that the King and his wife are devoted to each other, and his turning evil was such a big betrayal, but there’s no time and no impactful evidence for us to believe either of those things. And even if we did, the moment he’s defeated and trapped in a mirror, and begs to be let free, the Queen kind of shrugs it off, makes a forgettable one-liner, and tells them to throw him in the dungeon. And he doesn’t look remorseful. And we don’t even get to assume he’s embarrassed or emotionally devastated that he’s come to this—because the last thing he says is “nooo, the dungeon is so smellyyy!” Like this is a half-baked LEGO short that can’t get emotionally deeper than what an actual 3 year-old’s parents might be okay with.
And that’s the worst offense: The movie is not genuine. It works hard for nothing, and it has no vulnerability. It just uses old Disney standbys to pretend to be vulnerable. Have the music swell and the characters gasp and the songs drip emotion when characters are meant to be saying or doing something emotional.
But truthfully, think of all the Disney movies you’ve ever seen with the hardest emotional moments. The sheer joy of Genie when he realizes he’s free. The anguish when Elsa thinks Anna’s been frozen forever, or when Anna thinks she’s dead. The trauma when Simba loses Mufasa. The longing and dreaming of Ariel when she reaches up out of her grotto. The sense of foreboding when Mother Gothel says “fine, now I’m the bad guy” or the heartbreak in Rapunzel’s eyes when she thinks Flynn has abandoned her, or the shame on Aladdin’s face when Jafar reveals he’s a street-rat, or the horror of cruelty when the stepsisters rip up Cinderella’s dress, or Kala’s tears when Tarzan leaves her in the treehouse, or Sarabi’s tears when Simba comes back, or Mulan’s father tossing aside the sword and token of the Emperor to embrace Mulan, or heck, even just Lilo pushing Stitch in the woods and telling him “get out of here.” This movie has no moments like that. It has moments you can tell that the filmmakers wanted to hit like that—but they don’t.
Because no work is put into building them up. You know how much Simba loves Mufasa, because you’ve been watching their chemistry more than any other character all the way up till he dies. You know how much Mulan wants to please her family because she spends all of Act I desperately attempting to do that. You know Quasimodo believes the world below is beautiful and wants them to accept him because he has interesting things like—talking to gargoyles, convincing us that he’s lonely; building a scale model of the townspeople, convincing us that he sees them in a beautiful way and wishes he were beautiful in more ways than one like them, too.
Right down to the facial expressions, none of them are as anguished, happy, sad, excited, silly, in any convincing way like all of Disney’s other movies. Asha’s “low moment” when she’s afraid her “wish” hurt everyone else (still vague on what that wish ever was) lasts two seconds, she’s not crying, she’s barely sitting with slumped shoulders, and her family barely spend two seconds comforting her. They basically just say, “aw, no, it’s not y fault, it’s the king’s.” And she’s like, “yeah okay” and that’s that. It’s like the animators we’re afraid to animate really intimate emotions on the characters’ faces. The voice actors, too.
And the whole movie is peppered with Easter eggs to past Disney movies. But all that does, if you really know Disney beyond the visuals, is make you think of how hollow this movie is in comparison. How much you wish you were watching Cinderella or The Little Mermaid or something with depth and vulnerability instead of Wish.
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the execution of lady jane grey
I got drunk and Tiktok showed me history_alice's video about this painting by Paul Delaroche. And since God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished, have some medieval executioner König x fem mc. Also, Lady Jane Grey was executed by Mary Tudor (Bloody Mary), not by Henry the VIIIth (the one with the six wives), but I blended the stories just because I can.
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König doesn't ask questions.
It's never been his job to ask questions. The king points, and he does the dirty work. Most of the time, he takes pleasure in it: thieves, rapists, murderers, they all answer to his justice. And sure, a true loyal citizen might argue that he's simply enacting the king's justice, but it's König who swings the axe, is it not? In the end, König decides their fate.
In theory, anyway. In practice, this is simply his job. He keeps his head down and does what he's told. He stays quiet about the king's secret executions, the ones that happen in the dungeons instead of out in the open courtyard where the smallfolk gather to watch. It's hypocritical, honestly. They all look at König like he's a monster, some spectre of death among men, but when there's a public execution to be held, are they not the ones clamoring and pushing to be at the front?
There are some times when the king's executions are more...dubious. An advisor who voiced dissent one too many times. A thief stealing barley from the royal stables to feed his family, made an example of. A young man, just a boy really, accused of murdering four grown men—convenient, considering all four men's wives had been found in the king's bed at some point or another.
Those are the executions König prefers not to think about. The ones that haunt him in his dreams anyway. Those are the ones that make him yearn for his days in the army: when the people he killed were as faceless as his hood was to them, when he didn't know them and didn't have to think about the loved ones they left behind. König's never claimed to be a good person, the opposite in fact. But sometimes when he brings the blade down, he imagines a different, more royal neck on the block instead.
He feels this way now, as he watches her make her way to the block.
She's ethereal in her petticoat, the soft silken material reflecting what little light there is in the cold stone room and bathing her in a warm glow. Gentle and obedient into her own grave.
The king's wife. Sent to the block for treason, of all things. But everyone knows the truth: he's only killing this poor woman because he plots to put his latest mistress on the throne. Just a few weeks ago, this sweet young thing was the king's main obsession. She stood no chance at all, the daughter of a local lord currying favor with royalty. And now, she's being put to death through no fault of her own. The injustice grinds König's teeth, and takes his mind to a dark, dangerous place.
If she was his, he would never so much as let another woman cross his mind again. He's seen her about the palace grounds, with her beautiful bright eyes and lively smile, skirts trailing behind her like the tail feathers of an exotic bird. Just watching her had made him feel young again, no longer the brutish old soldier everyone averted their eyes from.
He's only spoken to her once, but he'll never forget it. He had been in her way, but she was the one who apologized. Most people would have seen the hood and backed away in fear, but not her. He watched, frozen and unable to say a single word, as she curtseyed and looked at him with, of all things, a shy curiosity. For one still, breathtaking moment, he held her gaze in his, and he felt like they were the last two people remaining on earth.
Then her lady in waiting had touched her on the elbow, and the spell was broken as they continued on their way. But König had never forgotten.
That same lady in waiting is here now, eyes puffy as she holds the queen's elaborate dress and jewelry in her lap. She had chosen to take it off, so as not to stain the expensive fabrics with her blood. How can she be so considerate of others, when the whole world has failed her so?
She turns to him, trembling like a little bird, and meets his gaze. The words come out before he can help himself.
"I beg your forgiveness," he blurts out, and almost immediately mentally scolds himself. What right does he have, of all people, to ask for her grace?
"Of course, sir," she says, her voice clear and sweet. Surely, he can't feel any more wretched than he does right now...and then she speaks again.
"I only pray you dispatch me quickly..." She turns a fearful eye to the wooden block, sitting almost innocently on top of the straw laid down to soak up her lifeblood. "Will...will you take it before I lay me down?"
"No, madam," he whispers.
She nods, and with a sudden streak of iron will, ties the blindfold about her head. König knows this is a kindness: she'll never see him coming. And yet his heart aches to see her cover up those beautiful eyes.
A loud sob comes out of the lady in waiting, watching her young mistress fumble around blindly. König's heart shatters when she lets out a little cry of confusion as the lieutenant of the prison rushes to hold her steady. "What shall I do? Where is it?"
König feels a sudden streak of anger, at the gentle way the lieutenant lowers her to the ground. The man clearly knows this is wrong, and yet will not lift a finger to help her.
Guilt strikes him yet again as he remembers that neither is he.
Or is he?
He stares down at her, this vulnerable little lamb sent to the slaughter, her pretty neck exposed for his blade, and he knows what he has to do.
The lady in waiting cries out in anguish as the blade lowers to the queen's head, causing her to gasp as the cold metal brushes against her skin. But instead of cutting her head off, König slices through her blindfold with a deft precision.
"What is the meaning of this?" The lieutenant demands as the queen scrambles from her kneeling position. König offers his arm, and she takes it, her hands warm against his sleeve as she stands up. The confusion is writ plain on her face, but her eyes shine with an innocent hope that only steels König's resolve.
"You," König says, pointing his axe at the lieutenant, who shuffles backwards nervously. "You will tell the king that she has been executed. If he asks for a body, find one: I don't care which one. And if you tell anyone what happened here today, I swear to you that I will water the earth with your blood, and the blood of every family member in your line." His eyes narrow at the lieutenant. "Do I make myself clear?" The man nods, stuck still with terror.
The queen's lady in waiting rushes forward, pressing jewels into her hands. "My lady, you will need these," she says urgently. "For wherever life takes you next." She gives König a determined look. "Take care of her, sir."
The queen's eyes go wide and round as she looks up at König. "I don't understand."
He kneels to her height, taking her hands in his. "I am taking you away from this place," he tells her, his voice low and urgent. "But you need to trust me."
She closes her eyes, and takes one deep, trembling breath before opening them again. "I trust you."
"Good." She yelps as he picks her up in his arms, hands instantly darting about his shoulders. "I am sorry, my lady, but we don't have much time."
She giggles, giggles, in his arms. "I don't mind," she says, with a mischievous little look that invites trouble. God, he is utterly fucked, isn't he?
"I can give you time, but not much," the lieutenant says. "Go!"
König doesn't need to be told twice.
To be honest with you, I have no idea what this is. I wrote this in, like. An hour. I think a demon possessed me. I don't think I'm going to write more of this au, but who knows!
@danibee33 @kneelingshadowsalome @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR FOURTEEN
in which eddie finally offers you an honesty hour. which is great, until you learn you've bit off more than you're capable of chewing. (oh, and we find out more of what happened at steve's infamous party)
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 5k+
→ a/n: there is still one more bit of the memory left for steve's party!! i broke it into three bits because otherwise it would be too long as one giant clump lol. sorry this is being posted so late... but hey! it's here! see y'all again thursday lol thank you to everyone for continuing to be so kind about this story and show it so much love
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
14:00 ────────ㅇ─────── 24:00
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
It’s Eddie. You only know because when Nancy opens the door, she greets him loudly, letting her drunken squeal echo down the hallway and into the kitchen.
“Munson! Finally!” her voice carries, and you fight the urge to try and move to peek through the doorway to see him, “Took you long enough!”
Eddie's voice is too quiet for you to hear his reply. He’s not drunk, not fueled by reckless decisions and overflowing affections like most of the other friends were already.
There’s a terrible twisting in your gut at his arrival, and you know it shows across your face when Robin looks at you apologetically. As if for a moment, they had forgotten they way you and Eddie avoided each other. As if for a moment, they had all pretended that the entire group could convene and it could be easy, and that was on them instead of you or Eddie. But it wasn’t on them. That blame could never fall on them.
It was on Eddie, you decided. He was the one who more ardently avoided you rather than vice versa. He was the one with a sharper tongue between the two of you, always snappy, always irritated with you. It was on Eddie. It should be on Eddie.
Except, you still felt bad about the Chrissy ordeal. He may have acted as if he disliked you for no reason before, but now he was hating you with reason. You can’t blame him; you’d do the same thing. If he ruined a date like that, stomped all over possible potential and threw it away without even considering your feelings involved, you’d be out for blood.
You sort of needed to apologize, and needed to apologize soon.
“Eddie, my man!” Argyle calls out from the couch. It captures your attention just in time to look over and watch as Eddie enters the room, his back facing you, his shoulders slack beneath his leather jacket.
He’s relaxed. You’re immediately sure that he doesn’t know you’re here yet.
“Hey, man,” he greets with a gravelly voice, an edge of fatigue to it you’re familiar with. It’s the kind of tiredness that follows long weeks, as you two had spoken about that first night. For a second, you wonder if he’s still having those. And if he is, how often they happen, if he ever comes home from them and thinks about that night, if he has anyone to call when it’s late and they haunt him.
You know you don’t. Neither Steve nor Robin are ever awake that late, or at least don’t answer the phone at that time of day, and you don’t feel close enough with the rest of the group to burden them like that.
There had been a time where you would wonder if Eddie could have become that person, if the type of conversation you two had at the bar the first night could ever translate over phone lines. But that time had been early on, and was long dead. It laid in an unmarked grave with all your other ponderings of what a friendship with Eddie might look like.
“We can keep you two apart,” Robin whispers, or at least tries to whisper. She’s loud, “He said he had work and wouldn’t make it. We… We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.”
Oh.
Oh, what a knock to your pride. Robin means nothing harmful of the words, they should be neutral and just an explanation offered to you. But your mind takes them in its grasp and runs, runs, runs.
“We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.”
You’re the backup plan. You see it now, and it sucks, but you press your lips into a cellophane smile that Robin can’t see through in her flurry to distract you with an offering of you two plus Steve having another round of drinks. You decide to take a straight shot of the nearest bottle of vodka, swallowing it down to drown your already sinking heart. You fake laugh when Steve tells bad jokes, you make up lies about your dates of the last few weeks, deciding you no longer care if you add in more details to look less pathetic.
You’re the backup plan. So you’re sure they won’t notice when you spin a new version of yourself.
This version of you that spews from your lips has gotten lucky more times in the last month than you have in the last year. This version of you is always the one having the last say in conversations, the one leaving men on read rather than the tables being flipped as they were in reality.
Robin says nothing, even when she notices some of the things you say not aligning with what you’d told her earlier that week. She only side-eyes you as Steve drinks in every detail, only disrupting to suggest another shot.
At some point, she gets too drunk to side-eye you.
“Fuck,” Steve sighs, throwing his head back as he glances out to his living room, where Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie have taken to sitting in an oblong circle around on his and Robin’s furniture, “I need some fresh air. Anyone else?”
“Me,” Robin responds so quickly, you would have made fun of her if you didn’t notice the sickly shade of green creeping up on her.
Steve looks at you, raising an eyebrow, but you only shake your head. It makes the room threaten to spin. Maybe, just maybe, you should have slowed your roll with the vodka shots. Maybe.
“I’ll stay in here, hold down the fort,” you promise, letting your eyes fall shut before you inhale deeply through your nose, exhaling softly through parted lips.
No way. You hadn’t drunk nearly enough tonight to excuse getting sick as Robin was seemingly about to.
Robin and Steve leave you be as you compose yourself. You think you hear them extend the offer to everyone in the living room, but you can’t make out who agrees to go and who stays. But as you listen to all the footsteps making their way out the front door, Steve calling out that they’d be back soon, you start to become convinced you’ll open your eyes to an empty apartment.
You open them to an empty kitchen. So far, so good.
But then a voice clears their throat from the living room, just as you pull your phone out of your pocket. You open it to find the cursed dating app still open, your messages with the bartender still staring you back in your face. The bartender you thought you’d hit it off with. The bartender that had stood you up the night before.
Fuck him, you think bitterly as you turn to find Eddie entering the kitchen. Because of course, given your luck, Eddie was the only one who stayed back.
“Those apps fucking suck,” Eddie notes, using the neck of his beer bottle to gesture in the general direction of your phone.
You look between him and the lit up screen for a moment, finding half the mind to click out of the private messages, “You’ve used them in the past?”
“Nope.”
You wait for a second, giving him the chance to elaborate. But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, he’s Eddie. If he explained himself to you, that would just be too easy.
“Okay,” you sigh, squinting at the page and past the vodka, trying to fumble your way back onto the screen that would show you eligible bachelors in your area, letting you swipe and judge them by solely looks as if they weren’t actual people on the other side of the phone. As if they weren’t more than a reservoir of attention at your fingertips.
Maybe that had been your mistake with the bartender – you let him become a real person to you.
“Why are you even still on them? I heard you’ve been having a shit time with the guys on there – quite the opposite of what you’ve been telling Harrington tonight, might I point out.”
It’s something in the way he says it. One moment, you’re looking down, ignoring him. The next, you can’t help but lift your head in shock. The words all felt sharpened and poised for a kill, ready for an attack you hadn’t expected so early on in the night.
“I-” you don’t know how to defend yourself. You don’t know whether to stick by the lies you’ve told tonight, or to be concerned with who was telling Eddie about your love life, “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the app.”
Eddie grins and leans on a counter across from you, “You haven’t made it sound like you’re losing at all tonight. I nearly started a drinking game with Nance where we took a swig every time you said you managed to pull another ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’. Quite the body count you’ve got there, player.”
You’re drunk. You tell yourself that’s why you take his words straight to heart – you’re drunk, and therefore, you’re sensitive.
“You’re bluffing,” you snap, “You couldn’t hear me from all the way over there.”
“We could.”
“No, you couldn’t.”
“Yes, we could.”
“You’re lying,” you spit finally, crossing your arms defensively. Your emotions were rising too high, too quickly, and you blame the vodka. You blame the vodka and you blame the drink Steve had made you. You blame the bartender who stood you up. And most importantly, you blame Eddie.
“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s been telling Stevie nothing but lies tonight,” Eddie narrows his eyes at you, as if he expects you to shrink in cowardice when he stands up straight and takes several steps across the kitchen to be closer to you, “Why do you need to even lie about all that, anyways? It’s not like the truth would be any more pathetic than the act you’re putting up. Everyone strikes ou-”
“I’m pathetic?” you scoff and interrupt him, not even paying any attention to where he was going. The tips of your ears are starting to flame with a red tinge, “Just last week, you lied to the group. You were trying to avoid being where I’d be and told them you had to walk your neighbor’s dog.”
“I did!”
“Your apartment has a strict no pet policy, Eddie.”
He freezes up entirely, grin faltering before your eyes, “How do you know that?”
“I didn’t, but Nancy did,” you roll your eyes at the cracks in his composure, “It’s all I had to hear about the entire night. How she wishes we could get along, how she hates when you lie to her. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“It’s not my fuckin’ fault you go out with my friends,” Eddie grumbles, reserving himself back to his side of the kitchen. If someone came in and squinted closely, they’d find that imaginary boundary between the two of you, an invisible line that would not be crossed. Not here, not tonight. You wouldn’t touch Eddie Munson with a twelve-foot pole if you could help it.
“And it’s not my fault that you don’t.”
You can see his agitation spreading like wildfire across his face, in the tick of his jaw and the twitch of his eyes. You can practically see the words that linger on his tongue as he bites down on it – it is your fault.
“Whatever. Why are you lying to Steve?” his voice goes monotonous as he crosses his arms, and the muscles strain against his shirt. His leather jacket has long been discarded, probably thrown over the back of the couch or a chair in the living room.
You mirror him, crossing your arms, letting the screen of your phone press into your side, “I’m not lying.”
“You are. With Steve, and with me at this very moment,” his eyebrows furrow and you consider the consequences of chucking your phone at him.
Your irritation, your own agitation, is all bubbling beneath your skin. If it wasn’t for the vodka mingling with it, you would have been squirming from the discomfort. Usually, he doesn’t get to you. Normally, his off-handed comments come with a sting that can quickly fade.
None of the jabs are fading tonight. They only seem to linger. Because he’s right, and you hate that he’s right.
“How the fuck do you even know how my dating life is going?” you uncross your arms, waving your hands wildly into the empty air between you and Eddie, “We aren’t exactly friends. Did Robin tell you? Did Steve tell you?”
Eddie swallows hard, and you can watch the words wash over him, but you’re unsure of which of your drunken slurs specifically got to him. You weren’t wrong in any of your statements, you weren’t outlandish in either of your guesses. But your words have frozen him up all the same and you aren’t sure why.
“You’re right,” when he physically melts, the deathly chill remains in his voice, “We aren’t friends. But Rob and Nance are, and Nance and me are. See where I’m going with that one?”
It’s in the way he says it, confirms it.
We aren’t friends.
He hisses it out as if it were a painful reminder, as if saying those words burn him eternally. He says them as if they are capable of sending ice through his veins and bones alike.
You know why he froze now, and it’s too late.
“Well-” you pause, unsure of how exactly to respond. You’ll be having a talk with Robin, surely. But technically, Nancy was your friend, right? Surely, she was allowed to know the drama of your love life, wasn’t she? “You say that as if Nancy and I aren't friends.”
“Are you?” he tilts his head tauntingly, as if he knows something you don’t.
“We… are.”
He catches the hesitation; he runs with it. He finds the handle of the knife you’d tried to keep so hidden, and he twists as hard as he can.
“Would Nancy agree if we asked her?” he hums, as if he were seriously contemplating this, as if it were a mediocre debate rather than a question of if you had friends or not, “Do you even have her on Instagram?”
“You, her supposed best friend, don’t have her on Instagram.”
“Because I don’t have Instagram, full stop.”
“Instagram isn’t the normal gauge of friendship,” you defend yourself, “Some people can have thousands of followers and no friends.”
You don’t have Nancy on Instagram. You don’t follow her, she doesn’t follow you. The most she’s acknowledged your presence on the app was tagging you in a photo on a night out once.
“It’s not about follower count,” Eddie shrugs, “It’s about mutual followings. That’s how Hollywood dictates whether celebrity couples are still together these days, yeah? If they follow each other. If you’re friends, you’d follow each other.”
The vodka makes you bold. Bold enough to mutter out, “Oh, fuck you,” in response to Eddie’s prodding.
“Wait, I-” you watch an unfamiliar emotion pass over Eddie’s face, something kin to regret. But his words are already out in the air, he’s already twisted the knife in your gut fully. He’s already spilled your blood in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, with no one around to witness it. He did it for himself – he did it for his own pleasure, his own enjoyment.
He enjoys hurting you.
“Save it,” you mutter, slowly deflating as you turn your back to him, facing the counter to grab your drink to nurse your wounds.
If you looked close enough in the corner of the room, you would have seen the shovel you should have used to bury away your hope of a friendship with Eddie. You should have piled the dirt over the casket, should have put 6 feet of soil and earth and worms between you and that fruitless yearning.
But you didn’t. He hadn’t taken it quite far enough yet.
Yet.
But then he had to cross that invisible barrier. He just had to walk across the kitchen, come up behind you, and not mind his own business. He just had to look over your shoulder just as you opened the bartender’s profile again, if for nothing else than to further hurt yourself for the night.
You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.
—
HOUR FOURTEEN - 5:00 AM
You don’t bother with putting pants back on, only Eddie’s sweatshirt. At this point, pants were just beginning to feel like a nuisance when it came to the two of you. A nicetie, as one might put it.
What were the points of niceties with him if he could never hate you?
You have the entire five minutes he spends in the bathroom to try and compose yourself. To try and desperately ruminate through these feelings and detach them from everything that was transpiring. The emotions didn’t belong here, there weren’t twists of guilt and sorrow of loss involved for Eddie when he was fucking you.
So why is that all you could feel right now?
He could never hate you, but he had spent the last year doing exactly that, hadn’t he?
“Hey,” he reappears in the entryway of the kitchen with the worst possible timing, right in the eye of the storm that had begun to cloud over your mind. He holds up a pack of cigarettes you can only assume he’d snagged from his room, “I’m, uh- I was gonna grab a smoke out on the balcony. Join me?”
There’s something of desperation in the way he asks you. All the words are casual, but his tone is an undermining plea; please say yes, please join me, please let me in. He knows something’s wrong, and he’s not just turning a blind eye and ignoring it this time.
You stare at the pack of Marlboro Reds for a few seconds before shrugging, “Sure.”
It’s certainly not as enthusiastic as you’re sure he was hoping for, but he smiles at the small victory nonetheless.
The first thing you notice about his balcony, aside from the clustered furniture, is the view. You’ve never thought your city to be very charming, always looking at it from a pedestrian’s view or through the lens of a tired, crabby college student embarking on another late night. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d step foot on a higher floor of a building like Eddie’s, one just tall enough to see over the rooftops of most of the mundane buildings, one that could peer right over the skyline and show a new dawn breaking. It’s a flourish of pink, orange, and violet, each shade stealing away another breath. The sun is just barely yawning over the horizon, just finally awakening.
God, you’re going to regret not actually sleeping during this time.
“What’s got you scowling?” Eddie mumbles the question out around a cigarette, pausing with his lighter in midair.
You turn your head, and- just like that, all the anger and confusion melts away. He’s painted in the same shades of the sunrise, in a golden light that almost seems to be emitted from him rather than the waking sun. He is all soft edges and tired eye bags, a stubble that you can imagine the itch of against your palm if you were to reach out a hand to hold his face. If you were to kiss him right now, you fear he might dissolve all over your tongue, leaving nothing but his sweetness behind to remind you it was all real.
It’s real. Even if it doesn’t make sense with what you guys projected before tonight, even if it doesn’t align with how your lives will continue on, tonight was real. You were here, he was here, and what happened…. Simply happened.
I could never hate you.
You get it now. Because in this lighting, with a soft breeze tugging your hair and mind alike, you know you feel the same way about him. And you know it contradicts all you have shown him in the past.
You could never hate him. He could never hate you. It’s unfortunate that that’s what you’d been calling it before tonight – hate.
“It’s going to really suck,” you breathe out half a sentence. Two endings before you: letting this night go or, “Not sleeping for a full twenty four hours.”
You don’t know how he does it, how he looks at you like he knows you had something else to say. But he gives you those eyes, and they almost elicit the truth from you.
Almost.
He throws his head back in laughter, and the pinks and purples and all the fights wasted are now trailing down his neck, “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”
He’s much better at pretending than you are. You know that now.
“Seriously,” you turn and walk to the railing, crossing your arms against the metal grate before he joins you at your side, “I’ll probably ditch my classes on Monday. I’ll have to sleep twenty four hours straight to even the score.”
“God, I wish I could fuck off for Monday,” Eddie groans. He’s throwing his head back again, and you can’t help but wish you could replace the golden rays with your lips. You wish your warmth could sink beneath his skin like the sun’s does.
“You can’t?” your voice cracks with the question as he finally lights the cigarette between his lips.
He takes a long drag, shaking his head with the exhale of smoke, “Nope. I work Mondays at the shop.”
“The shop?”
“Myo’s,” the way his lips curl around the filter of his cigarette as he fights his grin burns a hole in the middle of your chest. Burning and erupting, yearning and longing, ignored and buried, “The auto shop on Main street.”
You know by the way he looks at you that the name should ring a bell, but considering you don’t own a car, you don’t have the slightest clue what his job is, “Oh, so you’re a mechanic?”
“I- Yeah,” he nods slowly, “Yeah, I’m a mechanic,” he pauses and you can see that he has more to say, it just takes him a moment. He looks off the balcony, shifts his weight between his two feet, takes another drag of nicotine. When he finally gathers his thoughts, you’re patient and waiting, biting back a small smile the moment he whips his face towards you, “Have we seriously never talked about that before? I swear I’ve told you I’m a mechanic.”
“Nope, seriously. Never.”
“There’s no fuckin’ way.”
“There absolutely is a way,” you laugh, letting your head fall backwards and not catching the way his gaze falls on you. The sunrise paints you in just as beautiful of a lighting as it had him. If someone asked you, you’d say that you doubt he noticed, but he did. He noticed. He always noticed, “Usually, by now, we’d be at each other’s throats.”
“We sort of were,” he shrugs, eyes still glued to how your collarbone peaks out from beneath his sweatshirt, “Surprised we didn’t leave more hickies.”
The topic you’d been avoiding. The topic he seemed indifferent about.
I could never hate you.
You decide to put his words to the test.
“Are we going to talk about it?” you ask, looking down now and picking at flakes along the metal railing, still not noticing him noticing you, “About…. what we just did?”
“Are you always this straight to the point?” he chuckles nervously. In your peripherals, you catch the way he leans and mirrors you, side by side on the railing. His light cigarette hung loosely between indifferent fingers. Indifference, indifference, indifference.
If you’d just look at him, you’d see anything but indifference written across his face.
“Only when it matters,” you reply, breathing in his secondhand smoke, “Only when it’s important.”
His pinky is within reach of yours once more, just like at the parking garage. Even after feeling the entire expanse of his bare skin against yours, you still crave more – you crave for the intimacy that comes from hooking pinkies as grown adults, from knuckles curling into each other like hinges of a door of possibility.
You don’t see the way he swallows hard, or how he nods subtly to himself before he says, “Alright. Let’s talk about it.”
Those words make you look at him quickly, taken back and not expecting for him to give so easily. If you had noticed him noticing you, it would have been the expected reaction; if you’d seen the way his eyes traced over the pink and orange shadows of your features, you’d know he can’t really say no to you. Not anymore.
“Yeah?” you only ask for the confirmation because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He won’t let it. He holds it tightly, just nodding, “Yeah. I… You deserve my honesty.”
You deserve my honesty.
I could never hate you.
“I’m starting to get a bad feeling of deja vu, Eddie. We don’t have to do honesty if you don’t want to-”
“Ask me anything. Right here, right now. I’ll answer with the full truth.”
You flashback to hours before, when he’d offered his honesty this willingly and you’d only thrown it back in his face. But right now isn’t that moment, the two of you aren’t in the heat of an argument, there isn’t an impending doom on the horizon and the weight of the night no longer rests on either of your shoulders.
You don’t care as much about why he hates you now, or what he meant by never hating you to begin with. You don’t care much about the porn magazines and you don’t care what changed that first night.
They’re all petty details that have had too long to gather dust.
You do care about his job, you do care to know why he chose to fix cars. You do care about if he still takes night classes, and if yes, which ones. You care to know his favorite color and you care to know how he takes his coffee in the morning. Maybe you even care to know if he has a favorite coffee shop.
You care to know all the new petty details you’d never uncovered about him. Miniscule bits and pieces of him you crave to hold in your hands, if only just for tonight- or today, at this point.
But you need a baseline question. Something that won’t throw him off, but really doesn’t twist around your heart as severely as the others. Something that does neither damage nor nurture to the vines and blooms still occupying your chest.
You suddenly remember a small detail that had been revealed to you by a third party tonight, “Okay, um, well…” you ponder on phrasing, and Eddie edges ever so closer to you, “At that bar we went to tonight, the bartender – Frank – mentioned how you’d been going there for about six months.”
Eddie pales, but he nods nonetheless. Maybe the question is more loaded than you’d anticipated.
“I guess... I…” you continue to stumble over your words and it only leaves Eddie more time to panic, “I’m just curious why you started going? Yeah, yeah. That’s… that’s my question,” you tilt your chin up, try to be seem more confident in your question.
Even in his panic and sudden blanching, Eddie looks ready to laugh at you as his eyebrows scrunch. Somewhere between the wrinkles, you swear you could find something like affection, “That’s your question? Why did I start going to a bar that’s conveniently close to my apartment?”
Maybe it is a good baseline question. Maybe he was just nervous from the other possible questions you could have asked about your time spent together at the bar.
“That’s my question,” you confirm.
The color isn’t returning to Eddie. His hand shakes when he brings his cigarette to his lips. His breath is evidently shaky on the exhale as the smoke puffs out unevenly.
It’s not a good baseline question.
“I…” he won’t meet your gaze, and all your gut can do is twist, twist, twist in anticipation, “I got kicked out of my last bar I was a regular at.”
“Got kicked out? Why?”
It’s ripping the bandaid off the wound of honesty, and neither of you even realize it. Neither of you notice the blood of your history catching up to you.
Eddie sighs and rolls his shoulders before looking at you, “I got into a fight.”
Your twisted gut stills. A fight? Why is he freaking out so evidently over a fight? Does he think you’ll judge him that harshly?
“A fight?” you echo your thoughts with a soft laugh into the morning air, “You… Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing? Jesus, did you go to jail that night? That would suck, but… Eddie, I won’t judg-”
“I didn’t go to jail,” he interrupts, “I mean, they should have called the cops on me, but they didn’t. They gave me a second option of leaving immediately, and being banned for life, effective the moment I stepped out of the building that night. I took the ban.”
“Well,” you relax your shoulders, looking over at the rising sun, “That’s nice of them, I guess, right? I’m sure whatever mean drunk swung their fist at you deserved to get their ass handed to them-”
Eddie interrupts you with a soft utterance of your name, making you look back to his hues of gold instead of the sky’s, “I swung first.”
Oh. Maybe that’s why he still looks so wrecked with nerves. Maybe he thinks that’s the piece you’ll judge him on – it has to be the reason you can see sweat gathering along his eyebrow, just beneath his bangs. “Then I’m sure whoever it was deserved it? I-”
“He did,” he interrupts one final time. You’re about to finally snap at you, telling him to just let you speak, to just accept that you weren’t going to judge him over some bar brawl, when he drops the final bomb of an answer. Here is the honesty, you both realize at the same time, as his words slice through you, “It was about you. I got banned because of you.”
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Old Scars, New Blood 1
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader has accepted that she'll never be wanted, not only by the man she's crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)
Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson
Note: I could blame yall for talking me into it but we know it's all my fault.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
The sharp zip cuts through the air. Lloyd hauls the long black bag up and checks his watch. He struts over to you and shoves the heavy luggage at you, letting it go before you can wrap your arms around it. You nearly topple from the weight.
You grunt and hug it tightly, the long duffle isn't exactly a vacation's worth Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts. You can feel the long metal barrels as cases of ammo dig into your arms. You manage to get a hand on the handle and swing it after several tries onto your shoulder.
He's already halfway out the door. You trail after him, nearly stumbling to keep up. He's so tall you often find yourself running after him like a stray dog. So tall and handsome and--
Shut up! That's not what you should be thinking about.
Your phone vibrates and you struggle to pull it out of your pocket. You sigh as Lloyd continues along without notice, whistling casually as he approaches the stairs. Shit.
As he begins down the stairs, you stop at the top, leaning with the pull of the bag. You try to reply to the text as he makes quick progress to the bottom.
He whistles up at you and snaps his fingers. You pop your head up and amble down the steps, barely catching yourself against the railing as you slip. When you get to the bottom, he's standing at the door, huffing impatiently.
"What's goin' on, kid?"
Kid. That's what he's always called you. Even though you're not that much younger than him. It's never sweetheart or honey like the pretty ones. Just kid.
"Plane's delayed. There's headwinds--"
"Christ's sake," he snarls.
"Sorry, sir, the pilot's trying--"
"Boring," he chops his hand through the air to silence you, "let's go."
He stands by the closed doors. You try not to let his impatience bother you. You can't blame him. He has an important mission. There's no time to be waiting on a cloud cover.
You open the right door and he steps through, tramping down the stone stairs to the mosaic walkway. Once more you're on your toes as you scurry after him. You watch how his jacket stretches between his shoulder blades. His sleeves hug his arm tightly, showing off his hard work and muscle. You shake your head, stop. Ten years. You know better.
You're out of breath as you get the idling car. Jackson, the driver nods but is similarly ignored as he opens the door for Lloyd. You go to the trunk as it pops and you put the gun bag inside.
You get in the other side as Lloyd splays his legs out and unlocks his phone with his thumb. You keep your cell clutched tight and tap it nervously. He doesn't handle roadblocks well, he's the type to demand and get. Something he hired you to make sure of.
"Well, extra time, I guess," he mutters as he swipes across the screen.
The car rolls up the long drive as you check your messages again. Still no updates. You cross one leg over the other as Lloyd's loafer nearly touches your oxford shoe.
"Hmmmm, can't decide on this one," he grumbles and tilts his screen toward you, "what do you think, kid?" He wiggles it at you as you look at the woman on the screen, "tits are nice but the tattoo screams Hep C."
You nearly gasp but just raise your eyebrows instead. He's always looking for a reaction. Your cheeks set alight and you twiddle your fingers around your own phone.
"Well, sir, I… she's pretty."
"Relax, you won't be invited to threesome," he scoffs and leans back, swiping left, "that's what this is for. Variety."
You don't say a word as you bring your hand to the side of your neck, feeling the heat of your skin. It's not just that it's him saying it, it's that gnawing feeling of inadequacy. The mystery of the unknown makes you self-conscious and wary of saying the wrong thing. The same way when you talk to your sister and she tells you about her husband. Well, you don't hear from her much these days.
"I'll send you their info. You can make a few calls before we get back," he snickers, "get everything ready for me."
"Uh, sure, sir, but uh… like I said before, that's not exactly part of my job."
"Don't tell me what your job is," he barks as he blacks his phone, "goddamn, you're always such a tight ass. Usually I'm all for a tight hole but you really know how to squeeze a man by his balls."
"I'm sorry, sir–"
"Another fucking 'sorry, sir' and I'm gonna snap. I can't do eight hours on a flight with you pouting like that."
"Understood, won't happen again," you dip your head down, "sorry, s–"
You clap your hand over your mouth. The words are so habitual they start to fall out before you realise, and yet another urge to say them. Just stop talking. You peek at Lloyd with wide eyes and drop your hand.
"You're a fucking downer, kid," he sits forward, "Jackie, pull the fuck over."
"Yes, sir," the driver replies from the little speaker under the barrier between the front and back seat. "You, get the fuck out."
You're surprised by his sudden flare of anger. There's not much about him that truly shocks you anymore but as irritable as he can be, this is unusual. His agitation has boiled to molten hot in a matter of minutes.
"Sir?"
"You can walk back and start getting shit ready. I mean, we'll see if you can since you can't get the goddamn plane on the ground," he growls as the car pulls onto the gravel wing of the road. "You're getting fucking soft, kid."
"Sir, I didn't–"
"You did. You fucking killed my boner so get out," he shoos you with his finger and unlocks his phone again, "buh bye."
You hesitate. You slowly move to the door and let yourself out. You're buzzing in disbelief. He can be a jerk, you're used to that, but this all seems so abrupt. You can only assume there's something else bothering him.
You shut the door as you stand on the side of the road. You hear Lloyd's deep timbre muffled inside the car before it pulls away. You stare after it, crossing your arms as you sniff and the sun glares along the edge of your vision.
You slowly turn and face the horizon. You're not that far. Maybe twenty minutes. Well, the single silver lining. You can't help your disappointment. You look forward to missions. It's an excuse to be with Lloyd. A reason for him to put up with you.
You set off, trodding along without urgency. There's nothing at the compound for you. It's not like you go on every mission but it's the unexpected change that gets you. More so, his temper. You see it aimed at others more than yourself.
Your phone buzzes again. The plane's landed. That's good news. As you continue your trek, you dial out to Lloyd's phone and put the speaker to your ear. No answer. Several more tries have a similar result, the last call clicking dead right away.
You send a text and it bounces back as undeliverable. You don't get it, your signal is strong. It's a military grade phone. You slide your phone away and try not to let your anxiety get the best of you.
He wouldn't block your number, would he?
You're not special, that much is clear, but you've stuck around so long that you just can't see it ending over one slip-up. Sure, Lloyd has screamed agents out of the compound, he's even stranded them in hostile grounds, but they weren't there as long as you've been.
You drag your feet as you approach the gate. You let yourself in with the code and ignore the gazes of agents as you cross the yard and go back inside.
All this and for what?
If Lloyd fires you, you've spent ten years pent up in places like this, doing his grunt work. The tail end of your twenties and much of your thirties traded for imagined cues and empty hopes. You accepted long ago that Lloyd would never see you, just the woman he called 'kid', but the thought of losing even that makes you want to cry. You can accept that you're not as good as the models he fucks around with, but you can't accept not being there at all.
You're overreacting. You always do this. It's always the end of the world.
Lloyd will come back and everything will go back to normal. You're the only one who gets his coffee right and knows that he hates mushrooms but loves Salisbury steak. He needs you, just not like you want him to.
❤️🩹
Radio silence. You don't hear from him and any message you try to send is unanswered. He's on a mission, he's in blackout mode, yet you can't help but be paranoid.
Without him to order you around, you're not quite sure what to do with yourself. It's sad but that's just who you are. You're not the one doing, you're the one listening to those who do.
The first day is the worst of it. On the second, you're not as addled and a bit relieved not to be hidden in some safe house waiting for a signal or listening to Lloyd make sick jokes. Still, you'd rather be with him.
The second night, you expect some sort of word from him. Still nothing.
You lay in bed, restless. You don't dream about him anymore, you don't close your eyes and think about what it'd be like to be beautiful or interesting, you know it will never happen. But you worry about him. That you'll never be rid of.
The third morning, a Saturday, you go down to make your coffee. Other agents mill about as the tech crew speak into their headsets and type furiously. Something’s going on.
You near the doorway and listen in, trying to discern the chaos. There's cams to switch cameras and directions given, coordinates read out and warnings about oncoming targets. It's the usual, the same chatter you listen to over the comms when Lloyd's out in the field. Now you can only hear one side.
As the tempo builds, there's another furor. The chime that signals the censor at the front gate. Rico storms out of comms central as you flatten yourself to the wall and wait to trail him until he's past the stairs.
"What the fuck is going on?" He waves an agent in black close, "who the fuck is here?"
The agent puts his fingers to his earpiece, "we have sights."
"I asked who it was, not if you can make a shot," Rico shoves the man and stomps to the front doors, shoving them open before him. "Tell them to go the fuck away."
An agent runs up the driveway, puffing as he holds his gun securely in front of him. He stops as Rico gets to the bottom of the stairs
"Sir, sir, it's… it's Valhalla."
"Val-what?" Rico snips.
"Valhalla!" The man repeats louder.
"Shit. Fuck." Rico continues in a rampant flurry of Spanish, "they're early."
"Sir," the agent bows his head as another appears before him.
You frown and watch from the doorway, trying to stay out of sight as you eavesdrop.
Hm. Valhalla. You know the name, rather well, but only through correspondence. A code name. For a faceless man and his deep pockets. You hadn't heard it recently though. You thought that whole thing fizzled out.
"Fuck, Hansen, take your fucking time," Rico mutters between his Spanish diatribes, "let them in. Full search." You hear him clop back up the stairs before he blusters inside, "I need men. Now!"
He turns and sees you cradling your coffee with a dumb look. He sneers and rolls his eyes, "perfect. You'll do. We need rooms. We have guests."
"What?" You squint.
"You're a woman, you should know how to make them at home."
"You're not my boss," you grimace and drink your coffee.
"Don't get smart with me just because that idiot keeps sniffing at his heels. Go and do something useful for once," he claps at you.
You don't move. You take orders from one person. Otherwise, you stay out of the way.
"Fuck!" He hollers and twists on his heel again.
He marches into the next room and you slowly near the front doors, still ajar as they gape out at the golden day. You come outside and descend the steps, standing just by the plinthed flower vase at the bottom. You watch the gates roll apart, letting in the convoy lined outside.
There are four cars in total. All ivory and gleaming. They hardly seem like military vehicles.
You don't get it. You pull out your phone and scroll through your emails. The last message you got from Valhalla was months ago and it left you at a stalemate between them and your indomitable boss.
The first car pulls up and stops, the other fanning out behind it. Agents circle, keeping a broad perimeter as they watch with similar intrigue. Rico appears again, muttering to himself as he holsters a gun.
You look back to the grated bumper of the luxury SUV. The engine rolls over as you find yourself holding your breath. This is it, the vaunted Valhalla. You keep your mug close to your chest as the car door opens and your jaw nearly hits the floor.
It's a man more gorgeous than anyone you've ever seen before. Well, maybe not everyone but damn close. His golden hair is braided down his back and a few wavy strands hang loose around his face. His sky blue eyes shine in the sunlight as he smiles, the expression lining his face immaculately. You gulp and force your mouth shut.
There's a brief lull before anyone reacts. Rico is the first to snap into action. He clamours down and offers a hand, "Valhalla, hello, Rico. Hansen is in the field but I will be your host."
"Ah, Rico," Valhalla repeats with a keen lilt, "you'll do for the time being."
His blue eyes scan the facade of the compound. It appears nothing more than a remote and overpriced mansion. The man takes a deep breath as if tasting the air and pauses as his gaze falls upon you. His brows twitch but he does not react otherwise.
He turns back to Rico and claps his back, "well, we traveled far, we require food and sleep and if you can spare it, lots of alcohol."
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durge desensitizes to casual positive affection and friendship compilation
also known as real feline durge hours. esper's companions look at them and say Is Anyone Gonna Manhandle That Murderous Twink and then not wait for an answer. contexts/explanations under readmore for the curious
lae'zel and esper do morning exercises and meditation together. most of the time they pass the time in silence, but sometimes they're joined by the local wildlife. esper is a great fan of showing their friends things they might find interesting as a form of affection instead of words, especially with lae'zel, since they have a common discomfort with small talk.
esper doesn't like looking at themself in the mirror, so their makeup is always ancient and haphazardly applied, a fact that distresses the more image-conscientious shadowheart. she and esper have a sibling-like relationship fuelled by mutual amnesia and goth solidarity, among other things, but sometimes a sister has to take it upon herself to fix her stinky sibling's wings.
i already expanded on wyll and esper's dynamic a bit in this piece and i didn't feel like drawing the same thing twice, but suffice it to say, they have absolutely no idea how to talk to each other, but still look out for each other. the joke here is about how i've done a couple of long rests in-game with just alcohol i've found. hey 5 camp supplies is 5 camp supplies
jaheira unearths esper's forgotten mother issues. no real things to add here. no thoughts only cub.
gale said way back in act 1 that esper reminded him of tara, and esper isn't leaning into that on purpose per se, but as i said for lae'zel, they like getting their friends things those friends might enjoy. they also love chaos. show your evocation wizard some love by bringing him extremely destructive spells to play with. show your durge some love by casting chain lightning and letting them watch
i have no justification for this one lmao. esper isn't a Huge fan of being picked up and hefted around like a sack of oats, but maybe they should've thought of that before being small and scoop-uppable. socially, esper and halsin don't click especially well, but esper is fundamentally a creature, and therefore pretty easy for halsin to understand. obviously they don't mind that much :J
esper and karlach voted two most touch-starved nerds in faerun, they help each other cope by sleeping in a cuddle pile like cats. karlach runs warm even after getting her engine tuned up, but esper doesn't mind. she's cozy
astarion is by far the person esper is the most verbal with, probably because he's the only one who really thinks the durgeisms that slip out are funny and #relatable. everyone else errs on the side of caution with esper, but astarion knows he's allowed to take liberties with them, and he does. they have the same sense of humour. these two freaks are completely insufferable together because they're vibing so hard on a level incomprehensible to everyone around them, but astarion can put a stop to esper's self-destructive internal stress engine, and esper can drag him into helping and working hard. the others have no choice but to tolerate them as a couple because no matter how unhinged they are as a unit, they're so much worse for society on the whole as individuals. do not separate them
if you read all this, hope you enjoyed this illumination of esper's party dynamics, i love you <3 enjoy
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I Can’t Help You pt2 - Charles Leclerc
Charles Leclerc x reader, Lando Norris x platonic!reader
Part 1
Summary: After the stress of being a Ferrari driver gets to him and the failure to perform is too much. It’s not his career at stake.
Themes: Angst, break up
Charles wasn’t silly enough to try and show up at Lando’s apartment and demand he see y/n. So it was just a waiting game.
Thanks to them each having their location on for each other, she’d forgotten to turn it off. Or maybe she wanted him to find her. Either way, the first opportunity he got, he used to her shared location to find her down by the yachts. Wandering up and down like she’s pacing.
But he wastes no time getting down there. Clearly she didn’t realise her location was still on or forgot to turn it off since she looks nearly fearful when she spots him. He’s actually almost sure she’s going to jump in the water to get away from him.
“Can we talk?” He asks gesturing to his own yacht that is docked up.
Y/n’s gaze flicks to the yacht that she went to liking a homing instinct. But she doesn’t look very trusting of Charles when she looks back at him.
“Please?” Charles tries with a his voice shaking which makes her cross her arms over her chest but she nods.
Seeing his girlfriend(?), if he can still call her that, look fearful of him makes his stomach clench in disgust at himself. He never wants to be the reason for her fear.
Once the two sit at the bow of his yacht, looking out at the ocean and other yachts.
“I still love you, Charles. As much as I’ve now been told by everyone that I’m being an idiot by letting you treat me the way you did and still have those feelings for you.” Y/n states with a regretful voice. And again, he hates the sound of her being regretful about him.
“You mean more to me than anything, y/n. It has been the worst week of my life. I can’t...there are not the words to say sorry in the way I wish could communicate it and it would not be enough anyway.” Charles rambles stumbling over his words a few times. “Please forgive me. Please please please. It will never ever happen again. Please.”
Charles takes her hand latching onto it like a lifeline while she focuses her gaze down on his touch.
“I need to think about it.”
And she did. She spent another week sofa surfing on Lando’s and she hardly spoke to anyone just thinking about the whole thing.
“Ok, I can’t help if you don’t talk. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Lando asks finally deciding it’s time to just ask her what’s going through her head and maybe offer some help in figuring out her decision.
“There’s that saying. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. If I go back and it smacks me in the face, then I’m the one who took him back.” Y/n explains then pulling her knees up to her chest. “I love him so much. I’m not ready to let him go.”
“Then don’t. He knows how shit it is to be without you. I know he regrets it. He’s sent me enough texts checking on you and asking if I’d talk to you.” Lando smiles then sighing. “He’s having a tough time, and he knows how wrong it was for him to take it out on you. But...you know he’s going to make the effort to change and be better for you.”
She does know that, it’s just hurt feelings always get in the way.
“You love him. You do. You love him. Go tell him.” Lando states which makes y/n laugh a little.
“I love you too, Lando.” Y/n teases earning a laugh and eye roll.
“I know, but that goes without saying.” Lando smirks while she grins at him and leans her head back. “Need a ride?”
“In the jolly?”
“Yes.”
Y/n would be lying if she said that driving around in Lando’s Fiat Jolly isn’t the best thing ever. Lando is always happy and y/n think it’s even better than Charles’ Ferrari to drive around in.
Checking her phone, she knows that he’s out at his yacht again and asks Lando to drive her down there.
“Alright, good luck.” Lando smiles giving her a quick hug before she picks up her bag and moves towards the yachts.
When she gets there the first person she actually sees is Arthur who moves up and hugs her immediately.
“My brother. He is an idiot. A weepy idiot, cries too much when you are not here.” Arthur declares making y/n smile weakly before pointing around a little to the top deck. “Go on.”
Y/n jogs up to the top deck, almost tripping before she gets up and the moment she does get up everyone else up there clears out, hardly even looking at her.
Charles is sitting on the cushioned seats looking at her, just awaiting the verdict.
“I love you. I can’t help you when you’re like that, I understand you need space. But please, just tell me. You need to tell me, ok? Because annoyingly my first priority is you. I can’t change that and I don’t want to. So I need you to tell me.” Y/n states while he remains silent. Not wanting to say anything in fear of being accused of influencing her already made up decision. “Don’t make me regret loving you, ok? Because what you made me feel when I left...I don’t ever want to feel that again.”
“I will not...if I ever even feel any sort of bad mood, I will make sure that I just step away and it will never be taken out on you ever again.” Charles promises then holding out his hand for her to take which she does and laughs when he positions her to straddle him. “I missed you.” His hands explore her exposed thighs while she sucks in a breath.
“There’s other people here. Your brothers are both here.”
“I don’t think they’re going to interrupt us.” Charles smirks but is quickly stopped with a slightly sterner look. “Can I at least have a kiss?”
Giving into the request, y/n places a lingering kiss on his lip. Her laughing when he tries to pull her to grind down against him.
“Don’t tease yourself, this is your doing. Not mine.” Y/n sighs shaking her head at him. “I love you.”
“I love you too, I love you more than I knew I could.” Charles smiles, tears brimming his eyes.
“Hey. Hey. Come on now. None of this.” Y/n frowns wiping under his eyes as a few fall stray. “We are supposed to be happy we have reunited. Not upset that we are back together.”
“I am happy. I am just...disappointed with myself for messing up that badly in the first place.” Charles states while y/n hums then brushing his cheeks with her thumbs before she kisses him again and smiles softly.
“How about I dig out a bikini I’m sure I’ve left in one of the rooms and then we go for a swim?”
“Yes, the more of you I get to see the more I get to think about enjoying later when we are on our own.” Charles smirks as he holds his hand out for her to hold as she stands up. At least he’ll never failure to be a gentleman in mannerisms even if his temper sometimes needs put into check.
There’s plenty of time for them to work on that and y/n trusts him to stick to his words. If there’s on thing he’s not, it’s a liar.
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Reverence | Gale x Reader | (18+)
You take the opportunity to show Gale just how beautiful he is, and you have the perfect way to make sure he understands it.
Pairing: Gale/Reader
Tags: Mild sexual content, mostly implied sexual content, praise kink, touch-starved, body worship, fluff (at the begining), kissing (lots)
Notes: I am determined to help provide more Gale content because I don't think there is enough. This might get a part 2 if people are interested.
Part 2
Ao3 Link: Reverence
Word Count: 1,338
The city is a welcome respite from the harsh wilderness you’ve been travelling through for the past several weeks. Well, perhaps a welcome change for some of you; Halsin was far less excited to be within the city walls, but complained only once. While the city was stifling to him, he understood the appeal for the rest of you. Lae’zel, on the other hand, despised the crowds and made this more than clear on multiple occasions.
But everyone was content with the decision to rent some real rooms at the Elfsong Tavern- the entire upper floor, in fact. Gale was particularly pleased with this; and while everyone had their own rooms, he was very content to remain in yours.
Being in camp with everyone always there all the time did not give the two of you many opportunities to spend time together uninterrupted. Now, as you lay on the bed beside him while he reads through one of the many new books he picked up today, you can almost pretend that everything is normal and the world is safe. At least for the moment.
Gale’s fingers card through your hair. Occasionally, he leans forward and presses a kiss to the top of your head. You wrap your arms a little tighter around him. Everything feels so domestic that your face flushes and your heart aches. Given the circumstances of… well, everything that's happened to you so far, you hadn’t devoted much time to thinking about the future. But as you feel Gale’s chest rise and fall with each breath, hear him chuckle to himself while he scans the book with rapt attention, you can’t think of any other way you would want to spend the rest of your life. The realisation is both daunting and a comfort.
You find yourself staring at Gale. He’s too busy with the book to notice, so you have time to really take in the beauty of this man, and there really is so much of it.
His hair, still slightly damp from his earlier bath, has grown slightly since you met him. You notice that the small braid you had put in his hair one night still remains, still miraculously perfect. When you reach out to hold it between your fingers, you can feel traces of magic within the strands and realise that Gale had enchanted it somehow, ensuring it would stay. It’s such a fond gesture: that he would go through the effort if only to maintain it- to keep a reminder of you with him all the time.
The only indication that he’s noticed your discovery is the slight smile on his face and the pink that dusts his cheeks; he almost looks embarrassed. Gods, you love him.
“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper. His blush deepens and his eyes finally part from the book to find yours.
“Thank you,” Gale answers, but his voice is soft and you wonder if he really believes you.
“I mean it, Gale. You are the most incredible person I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting; and not only in looks. You are intelligent beyond words, your skill with magic is unbelievable.” He looks away from you, the book almost entirely forgotten in his hand.
“Alright, now you’re only flattering me.”
“Calling it flattery implies I mean none of it. Gale, and I mean every word.” You take his face between your palms, turning him to look at you again. There’s a sadness in his eyes, one that makes your chest tighten. You need him to understand how much he means to you. “And surely you are not one to call me a liar, are you?”
“Of course not, my love. I would never dream of it,” he answers, and kisses you.
“So, you believe me then,” you ask, like you’re testing him.
Gale gives you a look, a strained, conflicted sort of look. This man is stubborn to a fault, but this is not something you are going to let up on just yet.
“Your eyes are the prettiest I’ve ever seen, like the forest in autumn.” You pepper kisses across his face, moving to straddle his hips. You run your fingers through his hair, smiling fondly at the grey hairs that are present throughout. “Your jaw, your cheekbones, your nose, it’s like the gods sculpted them themselves.” With each new thing you list, you press several kisses to it. You can feel the warmth of his face when your lips brush over his cheeks.
Your hands move to hold his hips while you move yourself further down, kissing his neck as you do so. You only barely hear him suck in a sharp breath, but he doesn’t stop you- Gods, he doesn’t want to stop you. When you leave a final kiss at the top of his chest, your hand moves to the edge of his shirt, giving it a small tug. “May I?” You ask, and Gale doesn’t trust himself to answer so he nods. You pull the fabric up, and he helps you take it off of him completely. Your hands find his hips again while your lips return to now exposed skin.
“I will never get enough of your hips, love,” you say, tightening your grip on them ever slightly. “All of you, so soft, yet so strong.” His stomach is soft, but you can feel the muscles tense under your palm when you drag your hand across. You keep kissing him; his chest, his stomach, his hips. You can hear how his breaths are becoming shorter- can hear him sigh so softly. He’s always so responsive to you: a trait you absolutely love.
Your fingers tease the waistline of his pants, and you finally hear him speak for the first time in minutes. His voice is unsteady, already wrecked from just this alone.
“Please,” he begs breathlessly. You don’t hesitate.
You leave his underwear for now; you still have a point to prove.
You continue to kiss down his chest, and then across his thighs. You indulge him, leaving a collection of blossoming purples across his inner thighs. The last is rewarded with a whimper, and his fingers curl through your hair. He’s almost shaking, his pupils blown wide when he looks down at you.
“Please,” he repeats. You smile, and if Gale knows you, which he does very well, he knows it means you’re going to drag this out and tease him for as long as you can.
“Soon, my dear, I just need you to do something for me first.” You move yourself back up so you’re straddling his hips again. “Say you’re beautiful.” You’re back to kissing just below his jaw. Gale lets out a shaky breath, but hesitates. “All you have to do is admit it, then I’ll give you what you want.”
“This is hardly fair.” Gale does his best to sound annoyed, but you can feel him beneath you. You know how much of a hold you have on this man.
You kiss him; a deep and passionate kiss that promises more, but you pull away before he can deepen it.
“Say it,” you ask again. “I’ll wait as long as it takes, love.”
Your hands are all over him: his shoulders, his face, brushing his hair back, tracing the curve of his jaw. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Gale can barely focus enough to string a single thought together. All he can think about is you. You and your hands and lips all over him, kissing each and every part of him. He’s never really considered himself beautiful, though many might think him vain. But the way you’re touching him, holding him, telling him how perfect he is in hushed whispers against the side of his neck, it’s enough to convince him that maybe you’re right.
“I’m beautiful,” he relents, voice soft but still needy. He feels you smile against him.
“Good boy,” you answer, and he moans at the praise. “Now to make sure you don’t forget that anytime soon.”
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The power is still out so I guess I’ll get started on that meta now.
One thing that I think is really fascinating about this season as a whole is that it’s really, really emphasizing the power Nandor and Guillermo have to accidentally hurt each other. It’s kind of fascinating, tbh, because this whole show it’s been Nandor purposefully but also accidentally hurting Guillermo — but this season, it’s been very much the other way around.
Let me start with Nandor’s history of this. It happens in almost every episode, being honest with you, but two of the clearest instances were in 1.01 and 4.09.
In the very first episode, we’re introduced to the relationship that Nandor and Guillermo have by how they behave on their 10th anniversary as a master-familiar partnership. Guillermo is practically giddy at the idea that his beloved master is finally going to make him a vampire, and he’s hurt deeply when he not only does not do so, he appears to have forgotten altogether how long Guillermo has been there.
We feel bad for Guillermo here, but… well, let’s look at it from Nandor’s perspective. Yes, he forgot how long Guillermo’s been there, but… being real with you, the vampires seem to have a very shaky grasp on time at the best of times. They don’t understand human lifespans at all, they have very fuzzy memories for when things happen, and almost every time they make time estimates they’re off by a hilarious amount. I don’t know that we can fully blame Nandor for not realizing that an entire decade has gone by — he, like the other vampires, tends to live simultaneously in the Long Time Ago and the Right Now and any time in between those periods is ?????
So to him, he’s remembered when their anniversary is (already a success) and has put hours into making a handmade art project for his very endearing familiar. He is sure that Guillermo is gonna love this. He thinks he is absolutely acing this being-a-vampiric-master thing.
But we know that his gift depicting the two of them as vampires together is really just rubbing salt in the wound, because we’re approaching this thing as humans — like Guillermo.
Then again in 4.09, Nandor straight-up steals Guillermo’s boyfriend and inadvertently puts the events in motion that will lead to Guillermo’s boyfriend leaving him for his own clone. Terrible behavior! This hurts Guillermo deeply! His very first boyfriend cheating on him (sort of) with the man he’s been in love with for over a decade and then leaving him altogether for another man he is cheating with (definitely) who also happens to be his own clone.
That’s traumatizing!
But… again, let’s look at it from Nandor’s (very stupid) POV. He knows that Guillermo losing his boyfriend will hurt him, but he also wants to have said boyfriend. So he comes up with a solution that, to his mind, will make everyone happy: let Guillermo keep his boyfriend but also make a clone of him so he can have him, too.
I think it’s very important to note here that, catty as it was to say, Nandor was right. He definitely could have stolen Guillermo’s Freddie without too much work. The guy’s a philanderer. But instead of doing that, he used up one of his last three wishes to make his own Freddie specifically to avoid hurting Guillermo. And then he seemed genuinely confused when Guillermo was hurt anyway. He then tried to do whatever he could to make Guillermo stop hurting, including offering him his own Freddie, until he ultimately gave up a toy that he truly loved so Guillermo would hurt less.
Again, from Nandor's POV he has made a significant sacrifice for Guillermo’s well-being. He has given up a man that he really, really liked so Guillermo would stop being so heartbroken. Moreover, this is a man that, to his mind, he got the hard way instead of the easy way that would have hurt Guillermo more.
So he still thinks he’s doing great at this relationship, even if we know he is ultimately breaking Guillermo’s heart.
(And as an aside here, I think it’s fascinating that Guillermo really did seem to understand exactly what was going on, too. He knew that Nandor’s decision to clone Freddie wasn’t about Nandor wanting Freddie, it was about Nandor wanting all of Guillermo’s attention on him at all times, and that’s why he was angry.)
Anyway… that’s all a really long way to get to my point, which is this. We’ve seen Nandor play this out a hundred times, doing something he thought was fine only for it to devastate Guillermo. We understand human lifetimes, relationships, and emotions, so we understand why Guillermo is upset. But, and this is key, Nandor doesn’t.
So season five finally shows this happening in reverse. I’m not going to say that Guillermo hasn’t hurt Nandor before, purposefully or otherwise, because he has. But boy did he really fuck things up this time.
Like Nandor, Guillermo didn’t do any of it on purpose. He was never trying to hurt Nandor or upset social norms when he paid Derek to bite him. But vampiric priorities are as foreign to Guillermo as human priorities are to Nandor. He did something he thought was totally fine and value-free only to find that he didn’t just transgress a social norm, he transgressed the big one. He didn’t just do something that would hurt Nandor, he did something that will destroy him.
He didn’t mean to. His misunderstanding was understandable to us, fellow humans. But that doesn’t make it okay. Just like it wasn’t okay when Nandor stole his fucking boyfriend.
It's almost like this was tailor-made to force the audience to think about how the vampires have been interacting with Guillermo for years. This time Guillermo didn't know something about their culture, and obviously we didn't either. So we felt that same dawning horror when we understood how big the accidental fuck-up was — and we had to come to terms with the fact that this is how Nandor feels about Guillermo all the time.
Anyway... Guillermo’s big angst trigger seems to be being undervalued by the people he loves. It’s when someone who he loves with everything he has does not love him back. We see that devastation hit him both of the times that Nandor accidentally hurt him in this post, along with a thousand other times. I think, in fact, it is his main drive as a character: doing everything he can to be valued. It’s why he wants to be a vampire. It’s why he serves the vampires. It’s why he lies to his family. It’s depressing and it’s codependent and it’s unhealthy, but that’s Guillermo.
Nandor’s big angst trigger, on the other hand, seems to be abandonment. He is so fucking terrified of the people that he loves leaving him, and that seems to be rooted pretty firmly in his experiences when he was still alive. (Jehan, his wives running away, etc.) He’s so scared of Gail leaving him that he just tries harder to win her back when he discovers she’s cheating on him. He’s so scared of Laszlo leaving him that he gets angry when Laszlo makes new friends. He’s so scared of Guillermo leaving him in 2.08 that he’s willing to humiliate himself to bring him home. His primary drive really seems to be hoarding the people he loves close — too close for comfort sometimes. He tries so hard to force a connection that he ironically tends to sever it. Just look at his poor descendent Madeleine. :’)
And just as Nandor constantly sets off Guillermo’s devaluation trigger, Guillermo constantly sets off Nandor’s abandonment trigger. Every time he leaves or even just threatens to do so, Nandor goes ballistic. But it seems like the only thing that sets him off more than Guillermo leaving is Guillermo staying where he is but being emotionally absent. He doesn’t know how to handle a Guillermo who has replaced him while they’re still living in the same home. Right now he thinks that Guillermo has replaced him with Laszlo as a hang-out buddy, and that’s bad enough — how will he respond when he finds out that Guillermo has replaced him with Derek in a much more intimate way?
Guillermo’s doing everything he can to spare Nandor’s feelings in this season, but it seems like every decision he makes just upsets Nandor more. Nandor feels replaced, abandoned, and neglected, and he’s going to feel that way a hell of a lot more when he sees the truth.
Guillermo has always been shown to be capable of hurting Nandor in intimate ways that no one else can. From the very first episode, we’re made abundantly aware that Guillermo chooses to take Nandor’s shit. He twitches that curtain to the side and we realize that no matter how strong Nandor is, Guillermo has the ultimate power in this relationship. Guillermo can hurt Nandor like no one else can because Nandor trusts him to protect him while he’s asleep.
Then Guillermo becomes this legendary slayer and he can actually physically hurt Nandor like no one else can just because he’s stronger than even the most powerful and respected vampires in the Tri-State Area.
But we’re seeing now that Guillermo can also hurt Nandor emotionally like no one else can. Nandor gave him that power, too, didn’t he? This whole series, Nandor has been the one hurting Guillermo over and over, but this season is making it so fucking clear that Guillermo has the power to do it right back. Even if he doesn’t mean to.
Especially if he doesn’t mean to, maybe.
The two of them are so terrible at communicating with one another. Just. So fucking terrible. And that’s a lot of how Nandor accidentally hurt Guillermo over and over throughout the years. And it’s how Guillermo has just straight-up gutted him now.
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