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korebringerofded · 1 year

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The Truth- Steddie X F!Reader “Changes” part 4

A/N- This is part 4 to the changes series but could honestly be read on its own. I will be naming each part as I have a lot planned for this right now! Sorry this took so long I have been very ill.

Summary- After you find Steve and Eddie tangled up in each other the truth finally comes out followed by a great show of passion.

KIDS STAY OUT OF MY S W A M P

Warnings/tags-SMUT SMUT SMUT FILTHY SMUT, heavy steve smut, slight size kink, stomach bulging, Steve having a big dick, Eddie enjoying watching, Eddie is a mechanic because I think its hot though its not relevant for this part, unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it please this is FICTION, multipart, slight angst, hurt/comfort.

A/N-If you enjoy please like, comment, reblog as it helps me keep going! I am worried this series will die and I have had lots of fun so if you guys want more and enjoy please let me know!

Eddie and Steve sat on opposite ends of the couch, faces burning crimson that only made their partially faded bruises appear darker.

You stood in front of them, arms linked over one another.

If there wasn’t pain etched across your face Eddie would have joked that you looked like a cross mother.

“I just don’t get it. The last time you two were alone you were LITERALLY fist fighting.” You sighed, eyebrows furrowed. “Eddie, you accused me of cheating on you with Steve.” You rubbed your arms. “And now you’re the one sucking face with him in our hallway.”

You had tried multiple times to get Eddie to talk about what had happened between him and Steve, or why he was gone for so long and where. Despite your efforts ever since Eddie and Steve appeared on your doorstep he had been unusually quiet about the entire situation. In fact, he avoided bringing up or talking about Steve as much as he could.

It had created a wave of tension between the two of you.

“It’s…hard to explain.” Eddie avoided your sharp gaze.

“You need to at least try, you owe me at least that.”

“Yeah…I know.” Eddie sighed. I thought that I hated him, but really…I was just jealous of him.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Afraid of how he made me feel, afraid he was going to take you away from me.” Eddie avoided looking at you or Steve. He couldn’t stop his hands from trembling.

Steve almost laughed at that, it was ridiculous to him.

When Eddie was there, Steve was painfully invisible to you. It was never a choice.

“Then I realized that what I was feeling was a lot more…complicated than I originally realized. I actually didn’t hate him at all.” Eddie glanced up, knee bouncing as his eyes locked with Steve’s.

The electricity that crackled between their gaze made the hair on the back of your neck stand on edge. Eddie’s eyes flickered between you and Steve who looked at him expectantly, each of you holding your breath.

“You…have feelings for each other” You whispered, feeling Steve and Eddie’s eyes burning into your skin.

The room was still after that, the tension building up a thick wall between you three.

Your mind was running in circles, lungs burning as you forgot to breathe.

“So…do you not love me anymore?” Your voice was soft, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Is…is that why you left?”

Fuck…What had they done? They never wanted to make you feel unloved.

Steve and Eddie pulled themselves from their spots on the couch to rush over to you in an instant, Eddie cupping your face in his hands while Steve sat beside you, taking your small hand in his.

“It's not that, princess. I love you so much that it makes me act like a fucking idiot. I…” He glanced at Steve. “I never planned on any of this, but nonetheless I love you both. In different ways but..both at the same time.”

“And…” Steve cleared his throat, trying to settle his drumming heart in his chest. “Y/N I have loved you since I saw you again that day at Scoops. Everything after has just been my awful way of trying to keep you in my life.” He couldn’t stop the words that slipped from his lips. “And somewhere along the way… I think I fell in love with you too, Eddie.”

You were shocked, frozen in place between the two men as the tension seemingly evaporated.

“So now what?” You were meek, face bright pink as you looked between the two men.

“That's up to you, sweetheart.” Eddie smiled. “I know what I want, but I’ll never force you into anything.”

You were quiet, chewing on your lip as you processed everything that had happened.

You loved Eddie, that was easy. Steve was and had been your best friend for a while, when you walked into Scoops Ahoy that day your life was forever changed, you were sucked into a russian elevator, you almost died, and Steve had saved your life countless times. You had a crush on him for so long before all that had ever happened. And being with Eddie you didn’t think about other people, it wouldn’t be true to say you never thought about Steve. Especially in those few weeks you were alone, while Steve comforted you and cared for you.

“What if we were all together, all three of us?” You blurted out, face burning even darker at the silence that fell over you three.

Steve and Eddie were simply shocked that out of the three of them, you were the one that said it first. The two men had certainly been thinking about just that for so long it felt like fiction but hearing it from your perfect lips, made it feel real for the first time.

“Is that-what you want?” Steve choked out, eyes wide. He still wasn’t sure how you felt about him, and to be honest you were just as confused but something deep in your stomach pushed you forward.

You glanced between the two men, finding your confidence before you leaned forward, connecting your lips with Steve’s. You had never kissed before, the sparks spreading over your lips as they melded together, Steve wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer against him.

Eddie’s mouth went dry as he watched, his dick growing embarrassingly hard in his sweats. He had thought about it so much it made his head spin and now it was inches away, your thighs rubbing together as Steve’s tongue took over your entire mouth. You both pulled away eyes low and sultry and a thin string of saliva connecting between your lips.

“Fuck, don’t stop now.” Eddie chuckled, adjusting to get a better view.

“Are you-sure?” You panted, feeling a bit guilty for leaving Eddie out.

“Yes, absolutely. I am more than fine with watching for a bit.” Eddie’s eyes were blown and huge like a predator honed in on his prey, the full outline of his dick only making your head spin.

That was all Steve and you needed to fall back into each other, Steve tugging you to straddle his lap where he pressed soft kisses down the side of your throat. You leaned into his touch, tilting your chin up to give him better access as his hands massaged your hips, running over your thighs.

You couldn’t help but whimper and squirm slightly when you glanced over at Eddie who pumped his dick over his sweats, his eyes hazy and locked onto you and Steve. Your sweet noises were music to Eddie’s ears and only sent him further over the edge.

Steve ran his hands over your clothed breasts, squeezing and running his thumb over your nipples as his lips continued trailing down your neck and chest, eventually nuzzling between your breasts and pressing breathy kisses to your chest. Your heart echoed in your chest, Eddie’s sharp gaze and Steve’s desperate deliberate touch was sending you over the edge, between your thighs was becoming unbearably hot even in your thin cotton shorts as your puffy clothed clit was pressed against Steve’s dick, your hips bucking against him as he tugged your shirt over your head, he groaned softly at the sight of your bare breasts. He hadn’t even noticed you weren't wearing a bra.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Eddie chuckled, now having snuck his hand under his sweats and boxers and was running his fist over the pink tip of his hardened dick, precum shimmering.

“More than I ever could have imagined…fucking perfect.” Steve rambled, twisting your hardened nipples between his fingers as you trembled under his touch.

You were becoming increasingly impatient and desperate, Steve’s fingers working expertly at your breasts while you grinded against his dick, you didn't need to see it to be intimidated, the curved shape even clothed made you twitch and mumble incoherently.

You were going to cum and soon if you kept this up, all the tension and stress had built up all in this moment.

Steve was reluctantly not far behind and knew he wouldn’t last long like this. It all felt like a dream to him. He wanted to take care of you, make you come undone and eyes roll back. He wanted to leave you breathless.

“Someone is a bit needy, huh?” Steve grinned, tilting his head to the side with a shimmer in his eye as he dropped one of his hands to your thigh, his thumb running over your inner thigh before they trailed over the soaked front of your thin shorts. All while he flipped your nipple back and forth, his long fingers pressing against your cunt and massaging your puffy clit through your clothes.

“Better give her what she wants, Stevie. Our girl gets impatient, likes to misbehave.” Eddie chuckled darkly.

Our girl.

Those words only made you feel more light headed as Steve gently moved you off his lap so he could tug your soaked shorts off, leaving you completely nude. This was all so foreign and strange and yet you fell into it with ease as Steve tugged off his clothes as well before he guided you back onto his lap, your back pressed against his chest this time as his hands trailed over your body, his hard dick pressing unavoidable against your puffy lips.

“Wanna give Eddie a good view, hm?” Steve mumbled in your hair as he brushed his teeth over the spongy part of your throat.

‘Y-yes…” You blushed, eyes locking with Eddie’s as you struggled to keep your composer. Steve slid his hand down your front before he pressed his fingers to your clit, grinding his dick against your slick cunt as he did. Your mouth fell agape slightly, legs trembling for a moment.

“Fuck…” Eddie threw his head back, jaw tight as he watched you both closely, he could hardly move. It was by far the hottest thing he had ever seen.

You felt your orgasm approach rapidly as Steve ground his dick along your cunt, the curve and bumps along his dick along sending sharp waves of hot pleasure over you. His long, precise fingers worked against your clit.

“Stevie…” You mumbled, drunk on his touch. “Please…fuck me.” You whimpered, glancing back at him with teary eyes.

“Think you can handle me, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt a sweet little thing like you.”

“Yes, please.” You pouted a bit, shooting a glare at Eddie when he chuckled.

“Spoiled little princess, like I said.” Eddie snorted, though he desperately wanted to watch Steve fuck your perfect pussy.

Steve was bigger than you ever could’ve guessed and when he pressed his tip into your soaked cunt you were squirming and trembling as he held your hips still. You panted, chest rising and falling as he fucked you with just his tip, letting you adjust to his size for a moment.

Your walls tightened and closed around him, Steve having to prevent himself from painting your inner walls right there. Steve pressed his fingers against your clit as he fucked into you, his dick pressing deeper and deeper inside before he was fully in, a slight bulge from where his dick nestled inside of you, tears stinging your eyes at the fullness.

“Fuck you feel so good-fuck.” Steve rambled, almost drunkenly as he finally moved his hips, his dick pulling completely out of you before sliding fully back in, poking your belly and bulging the skin yet again.

Eddie was seconds from finishing, your belly enlarged from Steve’s dick fucking into you slow and steady at first before you brought your hips down to meet Steve’s and he knew you could handle more, he gripped your hips and matched your pace, his head leaning back as his dick pressed and stung your walls, that familiar heat building more and more rapidly before you were whimpering, mumbling and coming undone around Steve’s dick, the two men not far behind you as your walls tightened around Steve’s dick and he came with a start, grunting loudly and eyes squeezing shut as he fucked his cum deep into your cunt.

Eddie came in his hand and over his lap as he panted, eyes never leaving the sight on the couch in front of him.

“Think you can handle us both next time, sweetheart?” Eddie chuckled.

Requests are open!

Again, if you enjoyed please like, comment, or reblog.

It helps me feel like less of a loser.

Taglist-

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#steve harrington x reader #Steddie x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things steve harrington #Steddie #Stranger things x reader #steddie x reader #Eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie x reader #eddie munson x yn #Steve harrington x yn #steddie x yn #x reader

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iheartbookbran · 3 years

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Ok so actually my biggest problem with the whole “Daenerys will burn KL” theory—not even the Mad Queen Dany theory, which is of course very sexist for obvious reasons, but just like, the idea that Dany will ~accidentally~ ignite the wildfire in the city, burning it all to the ground. That, at first, doesn’t sound that bad, but the longer I think about it the more I hate it because tbh it doesn’t do anything for her character? And also… that fate for her is just down right cruel.

Like, the most frequent argument I see on why this would be at all satisfactory for Dany’s arc is basically that it would be a sort of lesson for her about the dangers of unchecked power and the real threat the Dragons can pose on humans and that she shouldn’t use them to fight against other people. And that’s all well and good, excellent message… except that’s not something Dany’s ever really needed to learn? Not anymore that her fellow rulers, which I will touch on more detail later, but in general Dany has seen what the abuse of power can do. Starting with her conflicting feelings regarding Viserys and how she recognizes that even though he was her brother and she loved him, he also abused his power over her as her older brother, her only family and her king; she feels guilt about the atrocities Drogo committed to the lhazarene and tries to help them; she feels so much guilt about not handling things correctly in Astapor that she decides to throw away all her plans to go to Westeros and instead stays in Meereen.

And about not knowing the true danger that her dragons can pose? I mean, this is the same girl that literally agonizes across several of her ADWD chapters because Drogon killed a child, and then takes the extreme measure of caging Rhaegal and Viserion to prevent that from ever happening again. I think she’s at least a little bit aware that the dragons can be dangerous, thank you very much.

Ok so this got long...

Anyways, the only time Dany legit uses Drogon to harm someone and not just as bluff was at the house of the Undying, where she was being attacked, and in Astapor… and like, lmao, that asshole Kraznys mo Nakloz and the rest of his slaver buddies deserved it. Don’t at me. Also, Dany’s hardly the only one with a big magical and deadly beast at her disposal, why didn’t Robb had to go through some horrifying traumatic incident to learn he shouldn’t use Grey Wind in battle to tear his enemies’ throats. Bran will be learning about the dangers of abusing power, but that’s linked to his magic powers and an actual reprehensible thing he’s doing, not the use of his glorified prehistoric dog to kill, which he’s done, just like Robb. By all means let the narrative hold Dany accountable for her mistakes… but her actual mistakes and not shit she has no control over, because she doesn’t have much control over Drogon or the other dragons even though she’s trying to, and that’s very obvious in her last ADWD chapter where she’s delirious and Drogon could kill her at any moment, and she knows that.

The other big argument people make for Dany burning KL (even if it’s by accident!) is that it will teach her about the price of war, that someone as young as her shouldn’t be leading armies and conquering kingdoms, and that fighting for the Iron Throne is not a worthy cause, and I feel like that misses the actual point of her story by a mile. First of all because a) Dany is hardly the only teenage ruler in the story and b) this is a fantasy medieval story, a lot of the characters shouldn’t be doing the things they do, aaaand yet. Also speaking of other teenage rulers with far more power that they should have—Robb and Jon, being the biggest examples.

Granted, Robb and Jon aren’t exactly successful during their time as rulers, they’re literally betrayed and killed by their own men (even if Jon will technically come back for round 2 of bullshit he’s too tired for). But the moral of their stories is not that they lost because theirs was an unworthy cause and they were stupid kids wholly unprepared for their roles. And I actually partially agree! They are just kids, including Dany, and they shouldn’t be responsible for looking after so many others and going to battle, but their cause is still just and worthy, even with all the mistakes they make along the way. Robb didn’t loose because he was wrong in demanding justice for his family or trying to protect the riverlands from the Lannisters and their minions, he lost because Tywin Lannister was a giant coward who couldn’t take him out in a fair fight.

Likewise, it isn’t wrong of Jon to try to incorporate refugees from beyond the Wall into Westeros. He’s not too stupid and honorable to do politics like his father (how I hate when people insult Jon and Ned like that), and while he did some very obvious mistakes that inevitably ended in a coup and in him dying, this is more connected to his inability to let go of his ties with his family (mainly Arya or who he believes to be her), and in isolating himself from his friends and the people he could actually trust.

I’ve always thought that Dany and Jon share a parallel narrative within the story, so while Jon is struggling with that Dany is faced with similar problems. She cages her dragons, that to her represent the only family she has left, and she tries to compromise with the slavers, marry a man she doesn’t love, pretend she’s ok with reopening the fighting pit. While she tries her best to rule wisely in Meereen, it all comes at the cost of betraying herself and her beliefs, so it’s no surprise when it all crashes around her and she’s betrayed and nearly killed. Ironically, it is Drogon who comes to rescue her.

If they are monsters, so am I.—Daenerys II, ADWD.

This is hands down one of my favorite Dany quotes from the whole series, and I hate that it’s been given such a negative connotation in the fandom, when for me it represents Dany’s humanity and compassion at the fullest.

GRRM has a knack for humanizing the ‘monsters’ of his story, for showing the good in the outcasts and the ugly and the scary. He embraces their ‘otherness’ and makes them the heroes of his stories; Arya, Bran, Brienne, Dany, Tyrion, Jon, Theon and many others are all compared to monsters or beasts at one point or another in the books.

Dany sees herself in her dragons, literal monsters in every sense of the word. Later on she faces Drogon inside the pit, and in that moment you could say that she accepts that ‘monstrous’ part of her, and in doing so she’s saved from her fate of dying at the hands of the men who would crucify innocent children and gleefully profit off of the suffering of their fellow human beings while watching them fight each other to the death for their own amusement. Now tell me who’s the real monster in this situation.

But shortly before that happens, Dany is able to see the humanity in Tyrion, an outcast who has been branded as monstrous and unlovable due to his disability all his life, a man who has come to believe in his abusers’ rhetoric about him so strongly that he’s started to act cruel and detached. She saves his life. She sees value in his life when few others would, because she cares.

I’ve always find it funny that the “dragons plant no trees” is—another—example fans use to argue in favor of Dany’s descent into Darkness™ because the actual scene goes like this:

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.

"It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl."

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.—Daenerys X, ADWD.

Now am I the only one who finds it at least a bit relevant that it’s freaking Jorah Mormont aka Jorah the Enslaver whom Dany’s subconscious, at her literal lowest moment, utilizes to represent this particular thought, which btw I’ve always interpreted as Dany’s own self-loathing manifesting in her, and this is something she’s actually always struggled with—the idea that she’s not enough and she’s failing. Because above all things, even Westeros or the Iron Throne, what Dany wants is peace, she wants to plant trees.

When Dany made her descent, Reznak and Skahaz dropped to their knees. "Your Worship shines so brightly, you will blind every man who dares to look upon you," said Reznak. […] This match will save our city, you will see."

"So we pray. I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit." Does it matter that Hizdahr's kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?—Daenerys VII, ADWD.

But of course the world doesn’t work like that, and so long as there’s Jorahs and Tywins and Eurons out there, men who would take the freedom of humans and submit them to their will, Dany can’t have the luxury of peace, just like Jon can’t have the luxury of belonging and family so long as there’s people still beyond the Wall who need his protection.

And I think that’s fine. It’s fine that Dany failed, it will help her develop as a character and realize that there’s no room to compromise with slavers, the metaphorical monsters of the story who do far more harm than the other more literal ‘monsters’ of the story. So that when she has to face down Euron Greyjoy—who btw, there’s a high chance he will end up stealing one of Dany’s dragons via Victarion using Dragonbinder… y’know, as in enslaving one of her children and using said dragon to inflict god knows what horrors, yet not many people ever consider this for some reason?—she will know. When she has to face down the Others, the magical ice fairies with no regard for human life, she will know.

That’s why I believe that it would make absolutely no sense for Dany to have to go through such a tragic and traumatic experience like burning a whole city even by pure accident, over something that’s either never been a problem with her character or she’s well into her way of learning anyways, so it would just feel repetitive. As I have pointed out, she’s already reached one of the lowest moments of her arc. Not saying there will be no other blows for her, and probably the destruction of KL will be one of them, and knowing Dany she will feel responsibility over it no matter what, but that doesn’t mean she has to be the culprit, intentional or otherwise.

#yes i wrote this whole thing because i actually love the ‘if they are monsters so am i’ quote and i’m trying to push my agenda on others #jk i spend like half a minute in an anti dany blog and i was like. war #but i don’t regret it so #daenerys targaryen #stormborn #pro daenerys #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #a song of ice and fire #valyrianscrolls #meta #my meta

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metvmorqhoses · 3 years

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Hey there! I'd like to hear your thoughts about this. Jkr never put a lot of thought into voldemort as a character did she? The fact that his villainy is oversimplified to be "conceived under a love potion and hence can't love" although there are instances where he has loved. The narrative that is put forth is that every child who was conceived through unhealthy relationships, abandoning parents and difficult circumstances is destined to be incapable of love. (There are problems/issues because of these circumstances but it's not a doomed-to-be-unloved situation)

The abuse he faced or the trauma was never explained and neither was his nature which can be either perceived as arrogance or as self-preservation in his formative years..

I love your blog and analyses btw!🖤

i couldn’t agree more. i don’t know if you are familiar with what i usually write about voldemort as a villain and as an all-around character, but what you are talking about is not only something i always mention when i discuss him in a more complex, adult manner, but much more importantly is deeply linked to what i think about the hp series in general and to the one, major issue i have with it in particular. this is something i consider very important and, honestly, a topic that is never stressed enough: jkr wrote an overly black and white children book, where oversimplification is the fundamental fabric of everything and i find it all very problematic, to say the least.

i understand the series started as a children book and that characterizing so generically and so stereotypically serves as a great advantage to sell copies, since virtually everyone can draw their own conclusions about pretty much every single character of the series and therefore identify, but hp more often than not proudly poses as a moral compass, as a good-vs-evil lecture, aiming to accompany children into adulthood hand in hand (both the books and the movies literally grow in tone, length, targeted audience and themes with the children who are consuming them), so it’s not unfair of me to be concerned about what exactly these morals have been teaching children and then teens (myself included) for more than twenty years about reality, even as a fantasy series.

i often say the characterizations of its heroes is the thing that scares me the most about the hp series. the entirely of the “good guys” in these books lack basic normal human reactions. they all went through hell one way or another, harry constantly witnessing every last one of his family relations dying/growing up abused and hated/discovering he was raised literally to be slaughtered by the man he looked up to the most, ginny being possessed/forced to kill/almost murdered in tender age by the literal devil and whose trauma is never mentioned again, hermione having to erase the memories of her parents - you know, the list goes on and on. the one thing that all of them have in common tho, is their non-consequence to horror. and that’s wildly unhuman. aside from a little sadness, some stubborn dementors chasing bad memories and sporadic plot-serving nightmares, none of the heroes is really effected or damaged by what happens to them. when normal people would have spiritual crisis, ptsd, depression, manic episodes, you name it, jkr is feeding us the idea that really good, brave, strong, valuable people remain unaffected by trauma and that only the weak, wrong, damaged and therefore evil ones are. and i find it beyond disturbing.

paradoxically enough, voldemort is the only prominent example (probably along with snape and draco, but in a very different way) of “normal” human behavior when a child is exposed that much to trauma and abuse in tender age. jkr never really explains voldermort beyond her rhetorical “he’s wickedness personified” motto, yet the little characterization she gave him is entirely built around trauma - a trauma that she openly equates to evil. voldemort is a child born out of rape (there’s a metaphorical love potion and therefore he’s unable to love - leaving aside the idiocy of it, how sick is that? as if a child should carry the faults of his parents, as if all children born from rape were emotionally disabled or soon to be psychopaths! what exactly she wanted to prove with this point will forever be beyond me), a child abandoned to abuse and poverty in the middle of ww2, a child i’m sure shunned for his magical powers if not worse, a child without a single resource on the planet but himself, a child to whom no one, ever, not even later in the wizarding world, ever gave a helping hand or genuine affection (he was literally sent back to a world war because “no one can live in the school in the summer”, i mean!). of course he had to react to survive, of course all that left him scarred, because it didn’t leave him annihiliated! tom and harry share the condition of the orphan, but while harry was loved by his dead parents, glorified and rich and adored, voldemort was unwanted, discriminated against, bullied, poor and ignored. had dumbledore treated tom as he had treated harry (not that he treated harry that well if we really analyze it, but still), had his mother not abandoned him and died, jkr herself said lord voldemort would have probably never existed.

is this a correct way to stereotype human nature? is this a good message to give children? the only plausible human in there is the psychopathic super villain who is physically unable to love?

i like to think voldermort differently. i do think he could, of couse he could, actually love - as we all can if we allow ourselves to. he’s too complex, too intelligent, too whole as a character to lack anything, both for the good and for the bad. i like to think that maybe amortentia (aka the entirety of his early life experiences) left him dissociated and unable to *understand* his feelings in general and love in particular. maybe he didn’t dare to love anyone. maybe he dared once.

i like to think this way because the way jkr characterizes is nothing short of a disgrace.

the question people ask me the most is precisely this, if i think i’m giving voldemort much more depth than the author actually intended in the first place. my answer is always the same - yes, of course i do. voldemort is beautiful the way i imagine him, as a real plausible person, as a deeply flawed and multifaceted and scarred human being who turned to darkness in search for a home and a reason and that had ultimately found one, as terrible as it was. he certainly deserved more, from a literary point of view. yet i understand it was convenient and safe for jkr to only ever play with his godly, evil, black and white facade.

#lord voldemort #hp #tom marvolo riddle #bellamort #asks/replies #anon #one and one thousand stories lis told #thank you dear <3

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spookyheaad · 3 years

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Haphephobia talk

BIG TRIGGER WARNING: brief mentions of rape/coercion, mentions of suicidal ideation, self harm, physical and mental abuse, as well as dehumanization. This one is kinda heavy.

Hi again! Currently horizontal on my couch because I have full body aches from the second covid shot and my head is killing me, but I expected this to happen as it’s normal for the second vaccine to knock you out for a day or two.

Anyway, I had a realization earlier that I write both Gild Tesoro of “One Piece”, as well as Death from “Darksiders” with Haphephobia - which is “a fear of touching or being touched”. While I write them with this phobia, it manifests within them differently, and I figured I would share some differences, and headcanons for both characters (it’s been so long since I’ve talked about my sassy depressed Nephilim husband; I miss you, Death ❤️❤️). Also with Death, I ship him with an OC I created, named Zemira. I don’t think I’ve shared a lot about her on tumblr, but I’ll be making a whole post about her another time; just know I’ll be mentioning her occasionally.

So I’ll be talking about Death’s haphephobia first, it’s a little more heavy (deadass trigger warning here for the brief mentions of rape. Skip this part if you need to):

So I must start out with the obligatory mentioning of that accursed chapter from The Abomination Vault:

Death and War have to seek out Lilith and gain information from her. Death is viciously adamant for War to stay outside & away from that woman, but war protests and wishes to come in with him. Death, nearly resorting to beating his brother into submission, demands him to stay outside, and War finally relents.

When the eldest Horseman goes in to see Lilith, one of the first things she says to him is something along the lines of “this isn’t a social call, is it?”. I truly forget what else is mentioned, but there are a few times where Lilith tries to mention things of a (supposed) sexual nature towards Death, and he abruptly and angrily cuts her off. The one thing I remember Lilith saying to Death was her saying that Death was always a “sensitive boy” which makes my stomach fucking churn.

What is heavily implied in this scene, to me, is that Death and Lilith at some point in the past, had sexual encounters with one another that Death is very much extremely embarrassed and ashamed of, and with Lilith’s ability to seduce any being regardless if they want to partake or not, it’s safe to say that Death could have possibly been coerced into said sexual activity. Lilith’s ability to seduce is described almost like a date-rape drug to me, it causes people to fall under some kind of spell or go into a trance; what is a big uh-oh to me is when Death describes that War would be weak to Lilith’s wiles, or her tricks. So she is definitely capable of coercing people in any way to get what she wants. Also fucking keep in mind that Lilith refers to Death as her SON, which adds a whole new level of “what the fuck” to that situation; it’s just icky.

I feel that Death, because of this run in (or run-ins) with Lilith, developed a massive fear of being touched, which is backed up in canon in Darksiders 2. He does not allow anyone to physically touch him under any circumstance; when Death arrived in the Makers’ realm, Eideard touched his chest where the amulet pieces are embedded. Death recoils quickly and with a venomous growl, states: “Don’t touch me!”

Then of course when he goes to visit Lilith, she touches his chest as well, and he physically pushes her hand away from his body. She also refers to herself as Death’s mother, and Death angrily states: “You are not my mother!” Also from the moment Death sets foot in Lilith’s domain, he is not thrilled to be there, and acts very different towards her; more defensive, more on guard it seems.

So this headcanon stems from all of that; he will not let anyone touch him, it’s just that severe. Where my OC comes in, I actually have a story on AO3 titled “Haphephobia” and it shows how Death & Zemira try to get past this aversion to touch, so 1.) Zemira can give him affection and 2.) Death can allow himself to be loved. I’ll link it here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29860320/chapters/73476759

Death cannot even bring himself to hold her hand in the very beginning. So Zemira started there, holding his hand, physical closeness, and very slowly, started working to larger forms of touch. Obviously this gave Death massive amounts of anxiety, so this is why the process is extremely slow. It makes it even more important to go slow because Death tries to hide any weak emotions, so the physical and mental stress he puts himself under is tenfold.

I think that’s all for Death. His Haphephobia is extremely severe, from the specific traumas he has experienced, possibly being forced into sexual activity with his god damn “”mother””, as well as hiding his sensitivity and kindness (my headcanons for why he does that is a whole other post waiting to be written) and just not believing he is deserving of such love and care.

Ok, now for Tesoro (specific Trigger warnings here for mentions of self-harm, suicidal ideation, physical/mental abuse)

So I just recently realized that I wrote Tesoro with symptoms of Haphephobia; also compared to Death, it isn’t as severe or debilitating, but no less harmful to the person going through it.

For Tesoro I think it was sparked by a mix of guilt and insecurity, obviously as well as his past abuse from both his mother and the Celestial Dragons. But in Film Gold it’s obvious that he doesn’t have an issue with being touched, I’m referencing the scene with the pool girls. I think in canon, he’s on high alert when someone goes to touch him, especially if it’s someone he is not familiar with, or does not like. It’s more of an automatic thing that he learned to suppress over time, especially because he absolutely craves attention and affection, and his fear of touch gets in the way of that.

So in a way, he did learn how to work through it, but it wasn’t proper or healthy, and because of that it’s still there in the back of his mind. I also believe that he doesn’t like people pinning him by the wrists/hands/arms or holding him down in any way, or being bound (sexual or non sexual, he does not like it). It triggers severe panic and flashbacks, so, it’s a big no.

In terms of if he were to be around Stella, it becomes heightened. It’s not that he’s afraid of her; he knows her well. He is afraid for her sake, that he would hurt her in some way simply by allowing her to touch him. All through his life, Tesoro was made to feel like he wasn’t worth the space he took up in his existence. His mother did not love him, the one person that could have given him some form of gentle gesture. She instead hurt him, screamed at him, made him feel worthless. Then we all know about the celestial dragons; they didn’t even see Tesoro as a human, and that mixed with the beatings from both the celestial dragons and his mother, he is weary to allow others to get close.

After Stella died, In his heart of hearts Tesoro genuinely thought that he was unloveable, mainly because of his mother. The one woman who brought him into this world didn’t care about his dreams or his well-being, so then how can anyone else? Then, when he found the single person that cared about him, she was whisked away from him without a second thought. Tesoro feels doomed to observe yet never experience the love and kindness that the world had to offer.

That mixed with Haphephobia makes him very cautious of others, and in the case of Stella, vehemently afraid. He loves her, and she loves him in return; Tesoro knows this full well, (we’re headed to the “if Stella survived” AU) after they reunite he is so afraid to touch her and it’s painful to him when she touches his body. It’s another source of frustration and anger because he knows that he is still in love with her, but his own body is trying to push her away. He would tear open his body for the apprehension to leave, to finally feel the comfort he yearned for within Stella’s embrace. No more fear, no more being brought to tears because he felt he didn’t deserve her kindness, no more guilt.

Both he & Death feel unloveable but for different reasons:

Death feels unloveable because of the atrocities he has committed, specifically the Nephilim Genocide & the creation of the Grand Abominations. He feels knee-crushing amounts of guilt for taking part in such events, and he puts up a facade of being an uncaring monster, when he is very much the opposite. He has kindness to give, yet is afraid to show it because of that idea that he is to be seen as nothing but an attack dog for the Charred Council. But this is also the same Nephilim who was so tired of making things that took life, and chose to make something that gave life instead, and gifted said item to his sister, Fury. This is the same Nephilim who took his own life to prove that his youngest brother War did not start the apocalypse. He cares so deeply, has insurmountable love to give, yet feels incapable of doing so.

Tesoro thinks he is unloveable because the world conditioned him to view himself as such. The extreme abuse he suffered told him that he is trash; an afterthought whose only use is as a punching bag or a wasted body to rend flesh from. Ants had more worth in this world than he, and Tesoro knew it. All it took was Stella, one person, for him to see that he is worthy of such a thing, that nothing that went on in their pasts was his fault, and that he does deserve to be given gentle touches, soft reassuring hugs, feather-light kisses, and that he is able to be loved.

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filamero · 3 years

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A Mother’s Love

[ Fluff in the beginning, angst at the end!! ]

Word count: 2540

Summary:

— It is often said that a mother’s love is the purest love of them all, and that to lose a mother's love means to become unlovable all the same.

( In which Puffy thinks about her son, from both the past and present. )

[ ao3 link!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902006 ]

(fic under the cut!)

It is often said that a mother’s love is the purest love of them all. Whether by blood or by choice, it is said to be strong. Stronger than that of friends who have been there for each other through thick and thin, stronger than that of the heart when it finally finds its other half—It is said to be the only real bond in the world, the only true love that a person could find in their lifetime. Unwavering, unshaken, unconditional for as long as it lasts.

To lose a mother’s love means to become unlovable all the same.

Puffy remembers the first time she encountered Dream.

Just a few months after she had retired from her ships and her crew to settle down in a little village, helping the ever-so-charming Niki start up her bakery. Not too far from the coast, so she could visit what she embraced for many years in her life. She had been out in the market with a satchel full of emeralds, trading for wheat, sugar, flour—all the likes of which Niki would need to bake her delicious goods. In the midst of a particularly good trade, she heard a faint ‘hey!’ and frantic footsteps, followed by her getting shoved into the wooden cart of the vendor. Whipping around to lash back, she was just in time to see a child stumble onto his rear, holding a loaf of bread to his chest as if his life depended on it. Before her confusion could even fully settle in, another vendor came running, eyes zoned in on the child.

And he did not look happy.

Puffy wasn’t quite sure what washed over her, quickly getting onto her knees to be at level with the poor boy before the vendor reached them. “There you are!” she cried out in fake relief, resting one hand on his shoulder and putting on a worried face. “I thought I lost you!” Her act seemed to confuse the vendor (just as much as it confused the boy). She turned to look up at the (thankfully) less angry adult, forcing a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry, sir. I had asked this...this little troublemaker here to grab me some other supplies on the other end of the market. Growing boys need to start doing things on their own, don’t you think?” she explained, shifting to be in between both of them for extra measure. “I must’ve forgotten to give him some emeralds to pay with, silly me,” she continued, rising to her feet and rummaging through her bag. “How much is the bread?”

There was an almost painful silence as she stared the vendor down, her cheeks starting to hurt from how long she was holding the smile. Much to her relief, he seemed to believe her lie, holding his hand out and mumbling, “Two emeralds.” She handed the payment over with no qualms (even though she knew that the bread around these parts was normally one emerald), helping the boy up onto his feet and gripping his hand before he could sprint off. She needed to keep the act up, or else she might get roped into bigger trouble.

“I’m sorry again for the trouble,” Puffy chuckled, quickly tossing six emeralds to the vendor she was talking to before and snagging two bags full of apples from his stand. “I’ll make sure that this doesn’t happen again, I assure you.” She went off without another word, dragging the child with her until they were a safe enough distance away from the market.

He attempted to wriggle his wrist out of her hand, just about to sprint off again—but she kept a firm hold as she turned to face him. “Give me a minute, will ya?” she sighed, setting both bags of apples down and peeking into them. He stood still, and Puffy managed to get a better look at him now that she didn’t have to worry about his safety from an angry villager. Clad in a sweater that seemed much too large and pants that nearly covered his bare feet, she couldn’t help but frown. Carefully letting go of his wrist, she tied up one of the bags and held it out to him. He stared at her, big green eyes swimming with confusion. She nudged his arm, and he eventually took the bag from her. “Take these with the bread too,” she said gently. “They’re apples, so they might spoil quickly, but they should last you long enough to get more food.” Slowly, he nodded his head before giving her a small smile and scampering off.

Puffy never failed to see him every time that she visited the market. It was almost like clockwork; she would arrive with her satchel of things to trade, and within five minutes of walking around, the gentle patter of smaller footsteps trailing after her own could be heard. A glance over her shoulder and sure enough, the little boy would be following her around. He would always stand close to her, even clutching onto her red overcoat whenever the street got crowded and a small child like him would be easily trampled over. With each passing encounter, Puffy found herself more and more endeared with him, dubbing him her ‘Little Duckling’ in her head.

One day, she asked for his name.

“Dream,” he told her, and she didn’t realize that it was the first time that she was hearing his voice. “My name is Dream.”

Puffy wondered if the boy’s parents named him that way because they had high hopes for him, and if they ever predicted that they would be gone—it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was orphaned and homeless, comical as it sounded—before he even had the chance to do anything.

On that very same day, a storm had settled over the village. It wasn’t anywhere near what Puffy’s witnessed out on the ocean, but it was clear that it was more than what Dream has ever seen. A particularly loud bit of thunder seemed to scare the poor boy half to death, clinging to her side and looking fearfully up at the sky. There was no hesitation in Puffy’s head, leaning down, hoisting Dream into her arms, and balancing him and their newly traded supplies on either of her hips. “Let’s get home,” she hummed softly, starting up a soft jog back to her and Niki’s shared cottage that was connected to the bakery, “before this storm picks up even more, yeah?”

Dream nodded his head, wrapping his arms around her neck and resting his head on her shoulder as she rushed back.

Niki welcomed Dream in with open arms, a motherly smile, and a nice bowl of soup to warm him up after getting slightly soaked in the rain.

And when Dream curled up into her side as he drifted off to sleep, Puffy felt her heart swell in a way that only a mother could feel.

That night, Puffy accepted that she was a mother, and Dream was her son.

Some days, he would accompany Puffy back to the market as he did before, following behind her and staying out of trouble. He paid extra attention whenever she would do negotiations, and he tugged on the end of her coat sleeve whenever she finally came to an agreement. It would always make her chuckle and hand him the right amount of payment, hooking her hands underneath his arms to lift him up. He would hand it over himself, grinning brightly as he handed the newly gained supplies back to Puffy. She even let him try and strike a few deals on his own, and she was a little surprised to see that many of the villagers would consider some of his offers that they wouldn’t bat an eye at if she had been the one to recommend it. (Though, frankly, she figured it was his age.)

Other days, he would stay home with Niki, helping her bake goods for their flourishing business. Those days often consisted of Puffy coming home from her local travels or trading to the two of them in the kitchen, her little duckling giggling and covered in flour or batter. Niki would pretend to be upset and scold him gently, but all Dream did in return was giggle and respond with an honestly half-assed, “Sorry, Niki!” The mostly ingenuine apology was never too important, for Niki would easily forgive him and play into his antics, teaching him how to be cleaner on his own in a nicer manner. It would take both of them a minute or two to notice that she came in, and when they did, Dream would hop off of his little stool and come crashing into her arms for a hug.

It was almost scary how quickly Dream fell into the groove of things, turning their family of two into a family of three. They bought and sewed him new clothes, he brought them a new kind of adventure every day—unpredictable and welcome all the same.

A loud crack of thunder echoes through Puffy’s ears, and she’s snapped back into reality. The familiar coast and quaint cottage in her memory fade away into the sight in front of her; a large crater, where a beautiful country used to stand. Her ears are still ringing slightly from the onslaught of explosives that rained down from the sky just moments before. An eerily perfectly set up grid of obsidian hovered above where she stood, casting shadows over what used to be so bright and beloved. She notices a hand reaching up beneath her, quickly scrambling down and hoisting who she realized was Tubbo from a thin ledge on the side of the crater. The teen scrambles over to Tommy the moment he’s on stable ground, flinching hard at the second boom of thunder that Puffy registers.

The wind blows against her figure, and her soaked overcoat does nothing to shield her from the cold. The armor she wears isn’t much help either, weighing her down just as much as her damp clothing is. A shiver wracks her body as she holds her arms close, looking out at the wreckage. Hardly anything remained of New L’manburg—even the debris of what used to be got blown to bits by the endless TNT and withers. Her eyes wander the pitiful scenery, snagging on a figure across from her on the other end of the crater.

Clad in a green sweater—one that was no longer oversized on his figure the way it had been years ago—standing tall and proud—having outgrown both Puffy and Niki in his teenage years—was Dream.

Her Dream.

Her little duckling.

The lightning seems to strike the ground right behind him, and he didn’t even bat an eye at it. Puffy feels a lump rise in her throat, tears starting to trickle down her face and mixing with the rain pounding down from the darkened skies. She refused to believe the Dream she was seeing now was the same one that she met at the market, even if the two shared messy, dirty blond hair and striking jade eyes. But even in her heart’s denial, her head knows better, and she is left to wonder where her sweet boy had taken a turn for the worse. She stares at the stark white porcelain covering his face, the somewhat-poorly scribbled on smile setting her nerves off—and all she can think of is his toothy smile from way back when.

Puffy isn’t sure who is crying harder: herself or the skies. Both mourning the loss of something so precious, so beloved, that even if it were to be replaced, it wouldn’t be the same.

For weeks on end had she witnessed just how much he had changed since she last saw him. Seeing him act so cold when her memories of him were so warm. He still acted playful around her, but there was something so taut about his posture, so malicious about his smile, so ingenuine with his words that she couldn’t bring herself to fully believe that it wasn’t an act. She had seen how he had everyone’s strings wrapped on his fingers, pulling and pushing them as he pleased, as if they were the toys that she used to buy him from the marketplace. She had looked him in the eyes one day when he didn’t have his mask on, and she couldn’t recognize him. No longer was there a fiercely bright twinkle in his eye, ready to take on what the world would throw at him. No longer were his features defined yet welcoming, the kind that brought you in and made you feel safe. No longer did his smile turn up the whole way, making her heart swell with a certain pride and love that only a mother could feel.

This night, Puffy admits to herself, is the night that she accepts that she is no longer a mother, and Dream is no longer her son.

It hurts; her heart weeps for the loss of someone who was still alive yet painfully unrecognizable. She wants to say that it’s not true, that somewhere, her duckling is still there, the one that waited to trail after her as she traded in the market. The one that stood atop the little wooden stool in the kitchen, begging Niki to let him crack the eggs for the batter open. The one that never really blew on his spoonful of soup before taking a bite, making her and Niki dissolve into a fit of giggles as he whined about how hot the food was. She wants to turn the other way, act like she didn’t witness the things that she did, bring Dream close and hug him tight.

But she knows she can’t.

She knows that as unwavering as her love is—no, was—for her son, the man in the green sweater and netherite armor isn’t him. It’s painful to admit, but she knows her little duckling, her sweet boy, her Dream was long gone. And as much as she wants to reach out, travel to the highest mountains, reunite her crew and get out on the sea, walk the length of the entire world to get him back, she knows he’s nowhere to be found. Lost where no one, not even herself or his closest friends could reach him.

Puffy straightens her posture, not bothering to rid her face of the tears because of the thunderous rain. Her eyes land on Dream—the cruel, unforgivable, unrecognizable Dream—one last time before she turns around. Her instincts scream at her to throw a glance over her shoulder, her ears expect to hear the gentle patter of smaller footsteps following her, her eyes long to see the little boy she had taken in all those years ago. But she faces forward, swallowing thickly and heading to everyone to provide aid where needed.

The rain seems to pour down even harder, mourning the loss of a poor boy and his mother’s love for him.

For to lose a mother’s love means to become unlovable all the same.

#dreamwastaken #captain puffy #dream fanfic #mama puffy #duckling dream #i was trying to cope with canon and then i slipped and made angst help #fluff #angst #i really tried to keep it pure fluff and then i went oops

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teamfreehoodies · 3 years

Text

teamfreehoodies masterlist

The Witcher (TV)

See below the readmore to find links and summaries for all the fics I’ve written to date in this fandom.

and we will be elided by the people that we love most

de-aged!Jaskier, hurt!jaskier, hurt!yennefer, exploration of motherhood, families of choice, panic attacks (jask)

“What did you give me?” he growls, burying his fear beneath a burst of anger. The room around them splinters, making gravity an uncertain principle: vertigo makes him drool and he spits, falling over, digging his fingers into the ground in a futile effort to make everything just stop spinning. “Oh fuck, wha’ ‘id you do t’me?” he slurs out past a suddenly numb tongue. The icy burn has spread out from his throat and chest to take over his whole body, sending lightning strikes of pain zinging up and down his limbs.

“You’ll find out soon enough, I think.”

Yennefer is healing after Sodden, trying to pull her chaos back inside herself. She doesn’t actually have time to chase down wayward bards, much less take care of the child-sized version of one she’s never particularly liked all that well. She really is quite tired of being forced to save this fool.

darling, dearest, don’t you see (voices left inside of me)

follow-up to ‘elided" above: After the events of and we will be elided, Loretta writes Jaskier a letter. How do you forgive the kind of betrayal that’s made to save another life? How do you learn to live with the ways your family has hurt you? How do you heal without betraying yourself?

idk man, read the fic.

the heart electric (beats a half-time measure)

Jaskier drops the torch and the dagger, rushing forward to fall to his knees next to Geralt. The light sputters briefly but holds, and Jaskier curses himself even as he hesitantly reaches out to try and wake Geralt. The leather armour of his shoulder is cold under Jaskier’s palm, and weirdly tacky with something; arachas venom pings in the back of his mind like a warning, and he hastily wipes his palms off on his already ruined doublet, reaching forward to cradle Geralt’s face instead. “Geralt?” he whispers; the horrifying truth of Geralt’s stillness catches in his throat, preventing him from being any louder than that. “Geralt?”

It’s not that he hadn’t thought it possible… but Geralt was a witcher. No one had ever mentioned that witchers could die.

Five Times Jaskier Thought Geralt Was Dead, Plus One Time It Was Reversed

this life that we’ve created (inundated with the fated thought of you)

Gods, but this is very nearly intolerable. He’d been ready to forgive him, even then, waiting for Geralt to take it back, for him to turn around and apologize; and he’d been ready to forgive him two years ago, if only Geralt’s path would cross his again, one year ago, traveling slowly from town to town, chasing whispers of the white wolf in between his bardic circuit. He does not know if his heart can take it again, if Geralt once more decides him too much of a burden to bear traveling with. Injured, now, needing to be saved, he could not have engineered a worse reunion had he written the fates himself.

if you could let me inside your heart (could I be enough?)

Post-coital realizations should never be had alone. AKA Jaskier questions his place between these two powerful, immortal, destined-to-be-together beings, and he finds it hurts to be just… human.

this our winter of love (a gift from one above)

“It’s weird but I don’t think it’s witcher-weird.”

“Oh, it’s witcher-weird, alright.” Lambert interrupted, pulling up something on his phone. It was one of those ‘smart’ phones, paper thin, supposedly able to think for itself; seemed like more trouble than Geralt cared to deal with, but Lambert was half in love with the damned thing. “Look,” he said, thrusting the lit-up rectangle in Geralt’s face.

Geralt had to pull comically far back to actually look at what Lambert wanted him to see. The screen showed a small parcel of people milling about a city center. They were all dressed like either they had walked off of a movie set, or they were genuinely from the 1200s. There was even a bard, holding a lute. A distressingly familiar bard, for all that Geralt hadn’t seen that face in eight hundred years.

i carry your heart (i carry it in)

Witchers don’t have soulmates. That’s been true for as long as Geralt’s been alive, a necessary sacrifice for a life spent on the Path. There’s no place for the attachments that humans define themselves by.

It may not be worth it to Geralt, but love has always been the single most motivating force in the world for Jaskier. Unrequited or not, he’s a bard, and there’s a story to be told. He’ll be the one to tell it.

(Who’s the more tragic figure here? The loved or the unloving?)

Jaskier and Geralt are soulmates, bound by the Red String of Fate. But just because it’s written in the stars doesn’t mean it’s an easy path to tread, and it takes more than a nudge from fate to make a soul-bond work. Between the way Geralt feels about destiny, and the trials and tribulations of the path they have to trudge, it’s going to be one hell of an adventure.

the prairie is vast (the train is quicker) | Into the Jaskierverse, pt. 14

Geralt and Ciri are still trying everything they can to find Jaskier. After… a traumatizing split, they come back together in a new universe entirely. They’re offered a chance to distract themselves from their worry over Jaskier, and the perilous journey they’re on, by helping a female version of their favorite bard steal a wagon, rob a train, and, just maybe, come to terms with a worry that’s been plaguing her.

Featuring; much talk of guns, someone getting shot (on accident), a murder! (on purpose), Jaskier the Horse!Girl, one (1) dissociative episode, one (1) panic attack (though not the same character), and just enough fludd and banter to even it all out.

if i loved you (could you stay?) | QF1

He knows the way to Jaskier’s lodgings, knows by heart how to find the tiny row of cottages reserved for the professors and their families, knows too that Jaskier might not even be there; he’s not heard of anything from the bard in months, not since—

He shakes himself, turning away from the uncomfortable memories. What’s done is done. He only hopes he isn’t too late.

A love confession gone wrong leads Geralt to try and fix his relationship with Jaskier.

Go Get Your Mage | Yennfri promptfic

When Yennefer portals into Blaviken instead of Geralt, a more… mutually beneficial arrangement is made.

fate makes fools of us all (she plays the longest game) | QF2

It’s not that she’d meant to become a witch, but… well.

Sometimes these things just happen.

a willing ear (a hand to hold) | QF3

A little town in the mountains calls for the aid of a witcher, and Geralt and Jaskier take on a contract that’s more than it first appears to be.

Even the divine have friends, strange as it may seem.

breathe with it (bleed with it)

Fringilla was the first. She flexes her hand, feeling again the phantom tendrils of chaos crawling up her veins as her arm had turned to dessicated ash and bone in recompense for her glory. That was what being noticed got you. That was a lesson learned in blood and pain. That was a lesson learned hard and fast and once.

a Fringilla Vigo character study; “There is no such thing as dark or light magic. Nothing in this world is as simple as that.”

#amber writes fic #posting for posterity #this also exists as a page on my comp theme #but now it shall exist as a pinned post on my mobile theme as well #witcher fic #fandom creators make some noise ayyyyy

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

Alive Again Part 3

Harry Potter AU

Link to Part two

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: T

______

You were the first to wake up the next morning. Turning on your side, you were relieved to see Regulus lying beside you. You smiled, resisting the urge to gently kiss him. He looked so peaceful sleeping. You reached out, stroking his cheek.

“You're staring at me again, aren’t you?”

Regulus asked, not opening his eyes. You giggled and finally pressed a kiss to his cheek. The two of you had finally fallen asleep around four am. You prayed that Astaria would sleep in. If only an hour or two later than normal would be fine. You needed some time with Regulus alone. Judging by his own desperation to keep you under him, he needed this time just as much.

“Maybe I am.”

You replied tracing your finger over his lips. He threw an arm around you to pull your body back to his.

“You’re too far away. Keep me warm, woman.”

He said opening one eye with a smirk. You threw your leg over his hip to prevent either of you from moving too far from the other.

The sound of Evan’s voice coming from the dining room got both of your attention. Regulus poked his head up first hearing his best friend.

“You know he won’t believe anything.”

You said, darkly. It didn’t take being Evan’s sister to know how he would react. Evan would believe anything that Voldemort told him and nothing Regulus would say. It didn’t matter that Regulus was his best friend and had put together some secret that the dark lord didn’t want to be figured out. Your prior thought about Evan grabbing an ankle for Voldemort returned.

Regulus stood up and began to dress.

“I know he won’t. I also don’t think my mother will enjoy being told that her way of thinking is wrong either. My suggestion, my love, is to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

You were fixing the bra that Regulus had torn off of you before you looked up.

“Where will we go?”

Regulus’ eyes flickered in your direction before giving you his best scowl.

“Just do what I say.”

Regulus kept his eyes on you as if silently pleading with you. He would never be the begging type and you knew it. It didn’t take growing up together to know what Regulus was and what he was not.

“Fine.”

You replied. Regulus quickly closed the distance between your body and his. His right hand tilted your face to him.

“You're still such a stubborn girl. It's no wonder that I fell so hopelessly in love with you. Like I said last night...it's time to see how brave you really are.”

Regulus followed you downstairs to the dining room. From your place by the door, you could see Walburga watching Evan interact with Astaria with an expression of approval. Evan was the closest thing that she had to Regulus when he “died.”

Astaria meanwhile was busy playing with a stuffed owl that Evan had given her. She sat happily in her uncle’s arms and would smile up at him coyly every few moments. Astaria, being only two, already knew how to work her uncle to her advantage. When Evan was around, if she wanted something then she knew who to go to. If she squeezed out a few tears and lip wiggles then BAM instant whatever it was.

“She looks so much like her father. I feel like Regulus is looking back at me sometimes.”

Evan said with a sad smile.

“Daddy’s sleeping with mummy.”

Astaria said as she continued to pet her new stuffy. Walburga’s eyes fell to her granddaughter. The older woman hadn’t said anything to Evan about Regulus being alive. She was going to leave that to her son as she still had questions that needed to be answered too.

“What did you say, sweetpea?”

Evan asked, wanting to make sure that he had heard his niece right. The little girl looked up with a sassy frown. At two years old, she didn’t like repeating herself.

“Daddy is sleeping with mummy.”

Regulus nudged your forward when Evan’s face went white. He had heard his niece right. What did that mean? There was no way…

The moment that Regulus walked into the room with you, Evan nearly passed out. He rubbed his hands over his eyes a few times. Evan wondered if this was actually some drunken dream and not reality.

“See?”

Astaria said, not bothering to look up at her uncle’s stunned face. All that she knew was her daddy and mummy were right across the room. That was all that mattered other than petting her new toy.

“Regulus…”

Evan stuttered. You knew your brother was within an inch of losing it.

“I felt the same way, Evan. This is no joke.”

Regulus didn’t meet his mother’s gaze. He kept his attention locked on Evan’s petrified face.

“How are you alive? The dark lord said…”

Regulus motioned for you to get Astaria. He was ready for this conversation to go south very quickly. When Evan Rosier was backed into a corner, he would be the first to last out at anyone that was nearby. Now he was about to be told that he was in the wrong on everything...he would resume his “ready to kill” temper. Regulus would make god damn sure that Evan wouldn’t lay an unloving hand on you or Astaria.

“You need to find new friends.”

Regulus said, casually. Evan’s shocked expression turned into confusion.

“What is that supposed to me?”

“Exactly what I said. I didn’t stutter.”

Regulus snapped as you returned to his side. Evan stood up as his mind was finally able to begin to work again.

“Are you saying that you doubt our master?”

Regulus chuckled.

“He isn’t nothing to me of that nature.”

Walburga was the next one to speak. She was tired of her youngest son ignoring her and she was not to be ignored anymore.

“Regulus Arcturus Black, what are you saying?”

Regulus turned his attention back to his mother. He was about to rock her world and for once he didn’t care. This time Regulus would not try to calm his mother so she wouldn’t lose her temper. Walburga could go crazy for all Regulus cared. She could scream, throw things, cry like a baby if she wanted but Walburga was about to be told.

“I’m saying that everything you ever taught me, everything that I ever believed is wrong. Both of you are foolish for believing in a thing that Voldemort has to say. Evan, if you were smart you would grab something valuable and run for it.”

Evan looked disgusted by his best friend’s words.

“What happened to you while you were at the bottom of that lake? Did almost becoming an inferi teach you nothing? The dark lord is not to be messed with and what you are saying is a one-way ticket to death...that you won’t escape from.”

Regulus only blinked.

“Are you threatening me? I suppose you are going to run right to Voldemort and tell him everything? I guess I should be frightened. Tell him that I said hello and know his secret.”

Evan’s surprised expression had turned furious.

“Y/n, get away from him. Get Astaria and come to me at once.”

You looked between Evan, Walburga, and Regulus. Stepped closer to Regulus, you let him wrap his arm around your waist. He gently took Astaria into his arms tucking her head against his shoulder.

“My place is with my husband.”

You stated defiantly. Evan was seething.

“You��ll be hunted like animals. If you think that I won’t tell him the truth...you’re both mistaken.”

Evan started for you but was stopped when Regulus hexed him.

“Do what you have to.”

He replied before turning his attention to his mother.

“Au revoir, mere.” (good bye, mother)

Regulus quickly apparated the three of you from Grimmauld Place. The next thing that you knew, you were standing outside of a small brick home.

“Reggie, where are we?”

You questioned as he placed your daughter back in your arms. Astaria was looking around, totally confused herself. Regulus glanced over his shoulder before knocking on the door. He chose not to respond. Regulus could have told you that you were about to see him “kiss ass” but decided not to.

“Somewhere safe.”

A moment later, Sirius opened the door. His mouth fell the moment that he saw his younger brother, whom he thought was dead on his doorstep. Sirius blinked a few times before being able to close his mouth.

“Please tell me that you are real.”

Regulus reached out and pinched Sirius’ arm hard causing the older brother to yelp.

“Is that real enough for you?”

Regulus questioned. Sirius nodded before meeting your gaze. The two of you haven't spoken since before you married Regulus. He had tried to persuade you to say no to the engagement. There were no romantic intentions (you knew that he was happy with Remus) instead, it was Sirius worrying about your safety.

“Y/n!”

His eyes finally fell on the niece that he didn’t know that he had. Sirius didn’t have to ask questions. He knew that was his niece.

“Can we come in?”

Regulus finally asked. He was getting the hint that Sirius was still in a state of shock and the whole “being safe” thing was beginning to evaporate.

Sirius quickly moved aside. This was something that he never expected. After he received your owl about Regulus dying, he couldn't get back to you. It was exactly what Sirius said would happen.

“Sweetie, he is so in deep with the death eaters that you will end up a widow by 20.”

Now it appeared that he was wrong about everything. His little brother was alive. He still looked as cocky and arrogant as he did the last time that Sirius tried to talk him out of joining the death eaters. Sirius tried not to let his mind go there but he couldn't help it…

“Don’t do it, Regulus. I’m begging you. You can come to our side. No one will hurt you. You're my brother and I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Regulus stood with his hood up. All that Sirius could see was his mouth and chin. Regulus did everything that he could to conceal his identity.

“I am no one to you. You made that perfectly clear years ago.”

Sirius wanted nothing more than to grab Regulus and shake him.

“You know that isn’t true. I begged you to come with me. I could have taken care of you.”

Regulus sneered.

“No, you wouldn’t. You would ignore my existence just like you do at school. Don’t you dare say you won't because you fucking do. It's too late anyway.”

Sirius was going to regret asking but he had to.

“What about Y/n? Do you want to make her a widow by the time the two of you are 20?”

Regulus chuckled.

“We have an understanding.”

He quickly unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt enough to pull the sleeve up. Sirius looked ill the moment that his eyes landed on the dark mark...just like that his innocent baby brother was gone never to return….

It was Remus that pulled Sirius from one of his worst memories. Remus had been reading a new book but was staring at Regulus. He too was clearly stunned and confused by the youngest Black brother’s apparent existence.

“I’m confused.”

Remus stuttered. He met your gaze then froze the moment that he saw the little girl in your arms. He had no idea that you were pregnant. Sirius said nothing about it. From the heartbroken expression on Sirius’ face, Remus knew that his lover didn’t know. Had he known, Sirius would never have missed this much time in her life.

Regulus sighed.

“I am going to say this once and will never speak of it again. You all were right about the dark lord.”

Sirius blinked. Had this situation been different, he would have said something snarky. Today he couldn’t.

“It's taken you a long time to figure this out.”

Remus said, calmly. Regulus smirked.

“This long and lying at the bottom of a lake nearly drowned helped me come to my senses.”

Remus winced and found that he was unable to meet Sirius’ gaze. Sirius had blamed himself for Regulus’ fate since the day that he got the letter from you about his death. There had been many nights that Sirius would cry himself out of tears after drinking all of the alcohol in the house. Only Remus knew this fact…

“I don’t think Astaria should be hearing this.”

You said, gently. Sirius nodded. The little girl was looking intently between her father and Remus.

Sirius stepped forward and knelt down to Astaria’s level. You had sat her down a moment before. She had waddled over to Regulus’ leg and was holding onto his robes.

“Hi, there sweetheart. I am your uncle Sirius. Do you like ice cream?”

Astaria nodded but didn’t let go of her father. Sirius smirked. There was no DNA test needed on who this child belonged to. She had that same calculating reserved expression that Regulus wore 95% of the time.

“It's alright.”

Regulus said, gently to the child. Astaria finally nodded. Sirius met your gaze with a smile.

“I have some ice cream if you want to go to the kitchen.”

You stepped forward and picked the little girl up.

“That will be nice. I’ll let you all talk. It's nothing that I don’t already know.”

Sirius waited until you were out of the room to face his little brother. He had to fight the urge to hug the little jerk until he begged for mercy. Sirius motioned to the couch.

“Sit down. I want to know what you have to say before I go buy myself a world’s best uncle mug.”

_______

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quentyl · 4 years

Text

What does ATLA tell us about Ursa?

For context, originally this started as a response to an ask. I felt like I couldn’t answer properly without going over Ursa’s portrayal in the show first, ergo this very long post. I’ll answer the actual question later.

Ursa only appears in one episode of the show (not counting Azula’s hallucination), has about a dozen lines, and apart from that is mentioned just a very few times. That’s not much, but there’s still a lot we can infer from that limited screen time.

Without further ado, let’s talk about Ursa as a mother first:

In her first scene, she’s sitting with Zuko on the ground and feeding turtle-ducks, giving off an aura of tranquility, relaxation and effortless grace. Even contentment. This is how the show chose to introduce her to the viewer: as someone who can laugh with her kid, be affectionate, and enjoy a peaceful moment.

Of course, she’s not just affectionate and sweet in this scene, she’s also protective. She says it plainly: “Zuko, that's what moms are like. If you mess with their babies, they're gonna bite you back.” At that moment, she was just joking with Zuko, but it foreshadows what she’s going to do a few days later, when the Fire Lord himself tries to mess with her baby: she bites back like a true mother. Ozai said that she did “vicious, treasonous things” that night. She herself, just before her disappearance, basically admits to having done terrible things, and she can’t leave without telling Zuko why, she needs him to know: “Everything I've done, I've done to protect you.” It’s interesting to note the plural here (“vicious things”, “everything”). So, though we aren’t shown anything directly, the show still seems to insist on the fact that Ursa got her hands dirty to save Zuko, that she killed Azulon herself and actually might have had to do other unpleasant things to accomplish that. So in spite of the lightness that seems to emanate from her at first, there is a dark side to Ursa.

Wrt Azulon and Ursa’s personality, there is another moment that is telling: when Zuko fails his demonstration before the Fire Lord, she does not hesitate to go over to comfort him, acting as if they are alone in the room. As if the most powerful man in the world isn’t watching, as if this isn’t a formal audience, as if she isn’t wasting the time of the Fire Lord. She tells Zuko that she loved watching him, as if it wasn’t Azulon’s opinion that mattered. She just throws propriety and caution through the window, Zuko’s hurt feelings eclipsing everything else in her mind, and forgets to give a fuck about her lord’s opinion (or her husband’s for that matter).

Ursa is also presented as her children’s primary authority figure, the one who’s charged with watching over them, giving them news, and preparing them for surprise meetings. But more than just an authority figure, she’s presented as the main good influence in their life, the one who teaches them about right and wrong. She makes Zuko play with Azula because she thinks they should bond as siblings (from the way Azula manipulates her using this, we can assume it’s a point Ursa has stressed as important in the past). She teaches Zuko to see things from others’ point of views (the mom turtleduck), she admonishes Azula without losing patience when her daughter shows lack of consideration for her uncle’s life, she reprimands her more strongly when she’s being deliberately insolent.

To summarize the above points: Ursa in the flashbacks is (almost) portrayed as the ideal parent: gracious, affectionate, playful, comforting, fiercely protective, authoritative, respectable, and the person who provides moral guidance to her children.

Ok but what about “our mom liked Zuko more than me” and “my own mother thought I was a monster” and “even you fear me”? Well, first things first, these are Azula’s thoughts, years after her mother abandoned her in order to protect her brother. While we have to respect her feelings, they do not necessarily match who the real Ursa was and thought. In particular, I think the Ursa we saw in the flashbacks didn’t seem to think of her daughter as a monster, or to be afraid of her at all - or she wouldn’t have forced Zuko to play with her (she does wonder “what is wrong with that child” but that’s in reaction to Azula making a deliberately provocative and ominous comment: she’d been acting borderline treasonous and kinda worryingly obsessed with the succession). Personally, I think that it’s more likely Azula who sees herself as a monster, not Ursa, and she projected that unto her mother because Ursa was the one who taught her how to distinguish between right and wrong and she believes that her mother wouldn’t have approved of the person she chose (and keeps choosing) to be.

That said, Zuko absolutely may have been Ursa’s favorite (studies found that most parents have one). Zuko himself doesn’t argue the point with his sister, and Ursa’s character description on the old Avatar website supports this (Zuko is flat-out described as “her favorite child”). Note that this doesn’t necessarily translate into Azula being treated unfairly by her mother. All we know for sure is that 14 years old Azula feels her mother liked Zuko more and that this thought hurts her deeply (personally, I tend to think that it hurts Azula more as a teenager than as a child, because it ties into her teenage self's deep well of anxiety about being unlovable in general - a “monster”).

The rest under the cut.

Now that I’ve gone over how she was portrayed as a mother, I think it’s time to delve into her and her husband’s dynamic, and how it fits into her relationship with their kids:

(Disclaimer: note that Ozai and Ursa never interact during the flashbacks, so to know more about their relationship we have to read the subtext - and since it is subtext and not text, basically everything below is technically just my interpretation, and at best I can only argue that it is the most fitting interpretation.)

Let’s go back a moment to “What is wrong with that child?”: Ursa sounds genuinely puzzled here. But she shouldn’t be puzzled, she should be alarmed. “Fire Lord Azulon. Can't you just call him ‘Grandfather’? He's not exactly the powerful Fire Lord he used to be. Someone will probably end up taking his place soon.” - this isn’t just Azula being insolent and stanning her dad, like her earlier comments. Ursa should have taken the second part, “someone will probably end up taking his place soon”, as a warning. But she doesn’t (at least not at that moment). She just silences Azula and doesn’t immediately think “oh shit my husband is planning something” or even “what kind of fuckery has my husband been discussing in our daughter’s earshot”. Instead her reaction shows that she is kinda clueless about what’s going on. She seems to think the issue is just Azula being a weird child, and doesn’t immediately link her words to Ozai. So what we can infer from that is that Ursa, before that day, wasn’t very... aware of Ozai’s ambitions. At best, she knew he’d like to be Fire Lord without realizing that he actually does intend to do something about it - sorta like just because you know someone is jealous of their sibling’s sport car you don’t suspect they’re gonna kill them to steal it. The idea of Ozai attempting to take the throne is just not on her mind like it is for us, the viewers, when we’re listening to Azula talk about how her dad’s glory days are coming.

Note that Ursa is not the only one who didn’t expect such a move from Ozai. Azulon is furious and surprised at Ozai’s impudent request.

This disconnect between Ozai’s ambitions and Ursa’s simple enjoyment of life is also shown through her relationship with his older brother: it’s clear from the little we see of them that Ursa and Iroh get along very well. Ursa seems very fond of him: she’s happy to read his letter, laughs at his joke, admonishes Azula for her callousness regarding him (“it would be awful if Uncle Iroh didn’t return”), and is genuinely heartbroken for him when she learns of Lu Ten’s death (”Iroh has lost his son”). These scenes are telling us that Ursa isn’t in on Ozai’s plans, and wouldn’t support him if she knew of them.

But Azula supports him, wholeheartedly. Azula wants her dad to be Fire Lord because clearly he deserves it. There’s something a little unsettling about the fact that Ozai’s little girl knows what’s in Ozai’s heart and what’s on his mind, his dark designs, but his own wife doesn’t. Was she spying on him (we see her do just that at least once) or did he just take her into his confidence (also very likely, it looks like they do spend time together without their other family members)? Whichever way she came by her information, it immediately creates a chasm between mother and daughter - because suddenly they’re not on the same side anymore, politically. And the worst thing is, Ursa isn’t even aware of that chasm - or at least, she doesn’t seem to understand its importance yet (even though Azula tries to tell her).

To go back to Ozai and Ursa, by the time of the flashbacks not only are they not on the same page politically, they’re also not aligned on the matter of parenting. Ursa admonishes Azula for words that could have come directly from Ozai’s mouth, were he honest. They also don’t react in the same way at all to Zuko’s fumblings: while Ursa is just sorry that he feels bad and is proud of his tenacity, Ozai is unhappy about him even attempting a demonstration. So however their arranged marriage started, they failed to become a unit on the two most important fronts of that contract.

But note that while Ursa makes a show of comforting Zuko, Ozai’s disapproval is actually subtle - the viewers see it because the camera makes a point to focus on it. I don’t think Ozai was full-on abusive toward Zuko yet at this point, when Ursa was still in the picture. Copy-pasting from a previous meta: “In these flashbacks, Zuko didn’t seem scared of his father yet. He wasn’t afraid to perform before him, to cry and lament his failures before him, or to be comforted by Ursa before him. He didn’t seem overly worried to have embarrassed him in front of Azulon himself. He wasn’t afraid to demand answers from him after Ursa’s disappearance.” So it is very possible that Ursa wasn’t very aware of the depth of his disdain for their son, just like she wasn’t very aware of how intensely (terribly) he desired his father’s throne. Before that fateful day, it seems Ozai kept the monster inside himself hidden.

So what happened between them the night of Ursa’s disappearance? One thing that is really important to note, I think, is that Ozai was ready for a takeover before Ursa decided to do anything. Not only does Azula basically spell it out before Ozai even makes his request to Azulon (he did not intend to wait patiently for his father to die of old age, he intended to replace him “soon”), we see after the fact that he has at least the head Fire sage in his pocket (“As was your dying wish you are now succeeded by your second son” - that was most certainly not Azulon’s dying wish). When telling the story to Zuko, Ozai rejects the whole thing on Ursa, saying she was the one to propose a plan - but the flashbacks imply he had one himself beforehand whether it involved her or not.

Ursa somehow found a way to get to Azulon in the middle of the night. How did she even have access to his chambers? Did she kill the guards too? Is she a secret ninja or did she somehow trick them?

Even though Ozai was in on Ursa’s plan (by his own admission), he still banished her for it. Now he didn’t do that to save face, since the official story is that Azulon died of natural causes (it’s actually less suspicious if his wife doesn’t disappear on the same day). It could be a weird thing like Ozai actually did feel some love/attachment for his father, or respect for his position as Fire Lord, and felt he was somehow duty-bound to punish her for his murder even if he himself incited her to commit it (maybe he let her do the dirty work so that he can still feel like he himself is clean?). Or he banished her to silence her or keep her from assassinating him next (the justification he gave in the comics).

But then, whatever his reasons for banishing her, the question becomes why didn’t he kill her instead? He did not spare her to avoid bad press or some form of retribution, since as far as the public eye is concerned him killing her and then making her body disappear would look exactly the same as what he eventually did. Ultimately, she’s much less of a hazard dead than alive somewhere out of his control. At the very least, he could have kept her prisoner. So, unless there’s some other variables we’re not aware of, I can think of two explanations. The first is that after she left Zuko’s room that night, Ozai did actually kill her (or attempted to and she somehow managed to escape) and just lied to Zuko during the Eclipse - though I’m not sure why he would lie in that particular context. The second explanation - brace yourselves! - is that Ozai let her go because back then he still had ~feelings~ and couldn’t quite bring himself to kill her.

Subtext does, in fact, support the idea that Ozai did once feel something for Ursa, whether this is the reason he spared her or not. In animation everything is a choice. The people who made Zuko Alone decided that on the morning of his triumph - his father’s death and his impending ascension to the throne - Ozai wasn’t celebrating or plotting. He was brooding while thinking of his wife, just standing still at a spot where we know she used to spend some time (she’s sitting there when she receives news of Lu Ten’s death). Even if he wasn’t sad, at the very least he was contemplating what he lost in order to get what he wanted. Which means that there was something to lose there, that he could have chosen another life, but did not. The writers could have elected to show him pretending to be mourning his late father, or plotting, or preparing for his coronation, or not to show him at all, but they didn’t. This is a characterization choice.

So I know this is controversial but I do believe Ozai chose power over love (the opposite of Aang in The Guru). It’s also hinted at via Zuko’s idyllic memories of his childhood - of their family vacations on Ember Island. At one point, Ozai was willing to devote some effort to being a husband and a father, enough to take his family to his summer house and give Zuko a few happy memories with his father - the memories that he desperately clings to years later.

It could also maybe tie back to “what is wrong with that child?” i.e. Ursa not immediately recognizing that her husband was the problem. Maybe Ursa was unable to see how far he’d fallen because she remembered the person he used to be at the beginning of their marriage, and maybe this is also why she accepted to leave her children in his power and didn’t even warn Zuko about him or anything. The last thing she ever says to Zuko before leaving forever is “no matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are” - she might be telling her son not to turn out like his father, if she feels like Ozai forgot who he was. These are all just possibilities though.

So I think that’s about it: what I can infer from the show about Ursa’s relationship with her husband and children. Before I conclude this post though, I also want to talk a little about Ursa’s family before her marriage, because I find this fascinating:

Ursa supports the war effort. I don’t think you can find a joke about burning Ba Sing Se to the ground funny unless you’re fully on-board with the Fire Nation’s imperialism. The writers didn’t have to show us this tidbit - it’s irrelevant to the rest of the episode - but they made a point of including it. It becomes even more interesting after we learn that Ursa descends from Roku and that Zuko didn’t know it. You don’t just forget to mention to your kids that they’re the Avatar’s great-grandchildren - this information was deliberately kept a secret. So there can be several possibilities:

Ursa wasn’t raised by Roku’s family i.e. she was raised by her other parent’s family, or she grew up in an orphanage, or she was adopted by some other folks. In this case, she might not feel any connection to Roku, if she even knows he’s her grandfather (Iroh knew but I don’t think this means we can irrevocably assume Ursa did too).

Ursa was raised by her family to support the war in spite of Roku’s position: this means that either Roku’s entire family basically disowned him and sided with Sozin, at least in appearance, or the family was divided in two with only one part rebelling against the throne.

Ursa was raised to support Roku, but she made up her own mind and decided she didn’t like being taught to hate her nation and Sozin was right, in spite of her family’s opinion.

Whatever the case, Ursa eventually just disappeared and no one seems to have made a fuss. So she either didn’t have any family left at that point, or she did but they were so alienated that they didn’t care, or she did but they were too utterly powerless to even demand an explanation.

#ursa #azula #zuko #ozai #atla #the fire nation royals #azulon #roku #iroh #this is long even for me I think #if anon is reading this:#sorry for not replying to your ask #I felt I had to write down my thoughts on her show appearances first #also i'm late but yk real life #if anyone wants to discuss any of this i'm very open #idk if anyone has the energy to read this #there isn't even a particular point #mp

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f-ferrari-forever · 3 years

Text

Incandescent - Chapter 1

Summary:

Time is running out. The Deathless is waiting. His best friend is slipping between his fingers.

Lucien Vanserra has stopped caring about what his eldest brother has to say a long time ago. And yet, the male's words keep ringing in his ear. Seek assistance in the Day Court...

Eris Vanserra has stopped wishing for his brother's forgiveness. He doesn't deserve it. And yet, if he could bring some joy into Lucien's life—show him the way Home—he'd gladly do it.

Vassa counts the nights. 6 months until her freedom is over. With every day she spends burning from within, more so the dreams come. If the way out means betraying her people, then so be it.

A tale of three siblings. One Unloved. One Unworthy. One Unmade.

High Lord. High Lady. High King.

A rewrite and continuation of Leaflets in the Sun after ACOSF.

AO3 link: here.

Notes: The song Jurian sings is the Irish ballad Carrickfergus.

This is a rewrite and continuation of Leaflets in the Sun.

Chapter 1

Lucien squinted at the page he was reading, ignoring the clicking sound of his whirling metal eye. He scratched at his scars, turning the page after what felt like an eternity staring at the same cramped words. He tapped his foot on the wooden floor, his good eye moving faster on the page. He had to decide if this lead was worth pursuing or not...

"Would you fucking stop?"

Lucien jerked his head up. Vassa was glaring at him, dark brows furrowed. She dropped the pen she'd been scribbling with and crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him expectedly.

His right foot froze midair, before resuming its light tapping. The woman standing across from him groaned. "Like you don't slam things around every time they prove to be useless."

"I slam things around to cover that," Vassa said, waving her hand to the upper level of the study, where Jurian lay sprawled in an armchair, humming to himself as he nursed a half-empty bottle of wine. The occasional lyrics spurred from his mouth, so out of tune that Lucien contemplated ripping his ears off.

"And I tap my foot to cover your slamming." Vassa huffed before shutting the book she’d been studying and slamming it on their shared desk so hard her notes scattered.

Lucien shook his head as she rose to her feet and began sorting through her papers. From the way she was stacking things atop each other without a second glance, Lucien wondered if she was helping the situation at all.

"Oh, 'm gonna find me a han'some boatman, to ferr' me over to my luv 'n die!" Jurian's belt on that last note had Lucien cover his ears, hands digging into his scalp.

Vassa whirled around, papers forgotten as she beheld the former general. "If you don't shut up right the fuck now, Jurian —"

Whatever reply the general could stammer died in his throat as three quick knocks echoed out into the manor. Lucien shot to his feet, nostrils flared. He pushed through the stinging smell of alcohol and the sharpness of metal as Vassa drew two daggers, blue eyes fixed on the study's double doors.

The smell of chestnuts and burned wood hit him at once, knees buckling as thoughts of Home filled his mind. And yet, there was an edge to that sweetness, something damp and pungent – the smell of wet dog. "It's Eris," Lucien said, his brows furrowing as he aimed for the study doors.

"Again?" Vassa asked, not letting go of the daggers as she made to follow him. A loud thump had both of them stop in their tracks. Lucien glanced to the spiralling stairs of the study, where Jurian lay on his ass, eyes wide as he stared down at the remaining steps.

"Make sure he doesn't break his neck," Lucien said to Vassa, ignoring her curses as he stepped into the dark hallway to greet his brother.

***

"You were at the lake?" The human queen gaped at him. Eris might have enjoyed the way she was drinking in every word out of his mouth if it weren't for those unnatural eyes bearing into his own.

He glanced around the manor's study. They were sitting at a long mahogany desk, books and papers almost covering the entire surface. There was a spiral staircase leading to a sitting area and pink curtains blocking out any starlight visible in the night. Lucien was sitting across from him, fingers tapping on a piece of paper as he glanced between the pacing queen and the man passed out in a chair at the far end of the desk.

Eris picked up one of the open books and flicked through. "Does Tamlin know you've been stealing from his library, little brother?"

Lucien stiffened. "She asked you a fucking question."

Eris sighed, dropping the book and turning to the mortal woman. He ignored the way his hands twitched as he met her eyes. Too blue. They were as deep and blue as a storming sea, and Eris had the feeling he might drown in them if he stared too long. "He said he's waiting for you."

Something eased in his chest as the woman shuddered, backing away from him and resuming her pacing across the room. "And Briallyn?"

Eris hissed at the crone's name, barring his teeth as he said to the back of Vassa’s head, "Very, very dead. Nesta Archeron Unmade her, or so the brute told me."

"Shouldn't that have made her human again? Not kill her?" Lucien asked, rubbing at the back of his neck as he leaned back in his chair.

Eris paused, weighting the brute's words again. "Perhaps," he mused, "Intent matters. I am not entirely sure how that silver flame works."

His brother only hummed in response and Eris glanced at the mess scattered across the desk again. Volume upon volume on spellwork and warding, passages on breaking through barriers copied in Lucien's neat handwriting—

Eris blinked, the whirling of his brother’s metal eye snapping him out of his stupor. "Are you trying to break her curse?"

Lucien's head whipped towards him, russet eye darkening. "So what if I am?"

Eris stilled. He remembered sitting in this same manor just months ago, Cassian losing his temper at the mere mention of Briallyn 's name. His brother's words rang in his ears now. Easy. Easy. The sheer dominance in that one word, knocking the brute out of his killing spree as fast as he'd entered it—

Eris wondered if he'd lost his mind as the words left his mouth before the thought was fully formed. "I think you should seek assistance in the Day Court."

Lucien sighed, rubbing his forehead. Eris frowned. Cauldron be damned, why wouldn't he want to go to—

"Absolutely not," the human queen spat, blue eyes blazing as she stalked towards them.

"Why the fuck not?" Eris asked, curling his lips as the woman came to a halt in front of him, fists clenched at her sides. She glared at him, and despite those roaring waves that threatened to sink him in, Eris glared back.

"Because she's a superstitious nut case, that's why," Lucien snapped, his hand dropping from his face with a thud on the wooden desk.

Vassa gritted her teeth, chin held high as she and his brother stared each other down. Of course Lucien had already figured out what the fastest way to solve this was. And yet—

Eris cleared his throat, drawing the queen's attention back to him. "Explain," he said, willing his body to remain still as the woman's nostrils flared.

"There is…history between my people and the Daylighters," she said, at last, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked down at him.

Eris resisted the urge to gape at her. Mother spare them. "So you would rather remain cursed than ask the one person who may know of a way out because of — tradition?"

"He doesn't know shit," Vassa said, her voice high enough that the human general shook from his slumber.

Eris rose to his feet, brushing past the mortal queen without sparing her a second glance. He stopped next to Lucien's chair and nodded his head. "I pray to the Mother you won't be driven insane by the time her time is up, brother."

He ignored the woman's huffs and Lucien's muttered curses as he aimed for the exit of the study. The general rose on shaky feet and Eris wrinkled his nose at the stinging smell of alcohol that rose from the man.

Jurian's mouth spread into a wide grin as Eris passed him by. "Look V," he shouted. "My han'some boatman 'as arrived!"

Eris whirled towards the man, who had his arms wide open as he stepped forward. The human queen giggled, and Eris eyed his brother as Jurian made to wrap his arms around him. And stumbled upon a pile of books stacked on the floor.

If his feet weren't still sluggish from having his nails ripped off, he would have dodged the falling body in a blink. Jurian collided with him and then Eris was falling, back hitting the hard floor before heavy hands pushed into his chest, his bruised ribs protesting as the human male fell atop him. High pitched laughter burst through the room. Eris was going to split this man's throat. He was going to—

Jurian made to jump to his feet, eyes wide, hands shaking—and stepped right on Eris's right foot.

The scream tore through him, pain clouding his vision, the darkness sending his mind spiralling back to his chambers at the Forest House, his father towering over him, claws digging into his skin, burning poker too damn close—

A gentle hand grasped his shoulder. Eris blinked. He wasn't in that Cauldron damned House but the pink-curtained study of his brother's manor. It wasn't Beron leaning over him, but Lucien, his russet eye wide, mouth open as his brother muttered his name. Lucien looked so much like their mother at that moment that Eris had to tear his gaze away. He couldn't break down in front of Lucien as he'd done in front of Mother. Not after what he'd allowed his brother to endure. Not with the two humans gawking at him.

The human queen's hands were covering her mouth, and she was refusing to meet his eyes as he turned towards them. And to the man cowering behind her, face white, eyes staring into the distance as if he was reliving some horrors of his own.

"Koschei?" Lucien asked quietly, hand still resting on Eris's shoulder. "Or—"

Eris pulled away too fast. For in the jerking of his arm, the trembling of his hands as he steadied himself on the floor, Lucien read the truth. And Eris had to restrain himself from gagging at the way his brother's face softened.

"I don’t want your pity," he spat as he rose to his feet. He had to get out of here—away from this kindness he didn’t deserve, away from those gaping mortals—

"I have a friend in the Dawn Court who could—"

"Or your help," Eris forced himself to ignore the hurt look that passed Lucien's face. Instead, he took one last look around the study, bearing his teeth at the general.

"Get some fucking wards around this place," he growled as heat began to flow through him. "You're practically begging for an ambush."

And then he winnowed away.

***

Lucien grasped the leather armrest, working over the last few minutes in his head. What the bloody Cauldron could he have said to make Feyre and Rhysand gawk at him like that? He sunk into the chair, scratching at his scars.

"What?" he finally asked, eyebrows raised. He hated knowing they were talking about him, judging him, and yet he was able to do nothing at all to defend himself.

Rhysand cleared his throat, consternation swiftly replaced by the cold mask of the High Lord of the Night Court. "Just making living arrangements," he waved his hand dismissively, and Lucien frowned. "Helion confided in me that there is some—tension in his court. I think it's much better if you two had these meetings here—in the Night Court."

"Living arrangements?" Lucien echoed, suddenly regretting not calling in his deal with Dennis Zana. The eccentric winter suddenly seemed easier to deal with.

"Of course," Rhys said. "You'd meet at the House of Wind, and rest and eat there should you need—"

"With Nesta there?" He should have gone to Zana. Fuck that, he could still contact the courtier—

"Nesta's a sweetheart," Rhysand dismissed him again, nodding to himself as he began writing what Lucien could only assume was a message to Helion. Feyre was frowning at her mate.

"Has he been like this since—?" Feyre began nodding before Lucien could finish his question.

"I'll have you know parenthood is a wonderful and eye-opening experience," Rhysand said, eyes going over the letter in his hands. "You should try it sometimes, although in your case I would suggest waiting until—"

An embroidered pillow flew straight at the High Lord's head. But Lucien had already grasped the meaning. His neck heated, and he kept his eyes on the floor as he rose to his feet. "Eye-opening indeed," he muttered as he aimed for the door.

"That's not what I meant—" Rhysand seemed to have won the battle with the pillow, but Lucien was not in the mood to hear how he should get over Elain and their bond.

"Just get this settled already," Lucien said, not looking at the High Lord and Lady. "We're running out of time."

Gritting his teeth, he passed walls decked with Feyre's paintings, yearning to step into the sunlight, away from the river house so he could winnow home. Home. To a queen whose days were numbered and a general whose nightmares kept them all awake at night. At least they didn't tell him to get over her, at least they didn't talk about him as if he weren’t in the room, at least—

Lucien stepped onto the streets of Velaris and came face to face with his mate.

Elain started as he blocked her path. Her face flushed, looking away, and Lucien almost winnowed away right then and there. His eye caught something white shimmering in the sunlight. Pearls. She was wearing the pearl earrings he'd gifted her.

Elain's blush deepened, and she gestured wordlessly to the house. Lucien blinked and stepped aside, letting her pass by. He stared after her as she went inside, wondering if he'd imagined it all.

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fuzziemutt · 3 years

Text

Do You Understand?

Chapter 5/9 - Link to MasterList in reblog

Summary: Connor is doing just fine and dandy isolating from everyone thank you very much. Here’s proof. (/s)

Tw: dissociation. Just unhealthy coping.

Connor made the right choice. Everything became easier over the next couple of months when he didn’t have to worry about the others causing him to lose control like that again. He went to work at the DPD, ignored any attempts at small talk from everyone and focused on his work. He still changed his hair color all the time, but he didn’t receive the same comments about it, maybe they thought he didn’t want them given how he turned everyone’s conversations down. It made that hole inside him from Amanda grow exponentially larger, but that was fine. He didn’t need praise to work. Amanda would praise him for not dealing with trivial things like relationships...

He still went to the New Jericho meetings given he wasn’t going to just drop his role as a leader. He felt fine being so disconnected from the others, but the others kept a cautious eye on him. It spiked that anger inside him, but he started just quarantining everything so he wouldn’t drown in those emotions so suddenly again. They almost treated him as if he was this fragile thing with how much they tiptoed around him. Diverting conversations, side eyeing, still not asking how he felt. Annoying but he just ignored it, gave his report and ideas on whatever the topic was, and was always the first to leave before anyone could try to converse with him. He was getting quite good at disappearing before the others had the chance to do anything about it. If they tried contacting him through the internal network beyond business, he ignored them. They tried their best to avoid using that accursed word again around him. It satisfied a darker part of him to see them do everything they could to not use it. He shouldn’t be feeling any satisfaction, but it wasn’t like he was the most stable android out there clearly.

They hadn’t replaced the table yet.

Nines and Hank weren’t like the Jericho leaders who ignored the problem that was Connor. He forgot how stubborn they could be. They tried their hardest to get him to even say hi to them. He wasn’t sure what their goal was, but they didn’t give up no matter how many times he didn’t reply or shut down a conversation. Couldn’t they see he was doing this for his own safety? How could he be safe when they caused such irrational behavior in him that made him feel unstable, unwanted, unloved. He shut down that train of thought again. He kept having them far more frequently lately. There wasn’t anything (anyone) to really keep his mind off the plaguing thoughts without who he once considered “friends”, just work and more work. So that’s what he did. He worked until someone got onto him. But then he just worked in secret from his apartment, hidden away.

His apartment was coming along nicely at least. He felt much calmer and safer while there. He got cheap furniture that livened the place up even if he never had any visitors. No one bothered him here, not even the landlord since there were no complaints against him and he always paid on time. Sometimes they’ll talk casually in the hallway in passing, but Connor would always excuse himself not too long afterwards.

He had bookshelves now that held both books and plants. He had a couch and coffee table. He even had a proper bed in his room and nightstand. It wasn’t much but it made him happy, he thinks. His small amount of trinkets, besides the coin that stays on him and manta ray plushie in the bedroom, were placed around the living room and kitchen. He had thirium in his fridge with no worries of not having enough. His plants were all succulents and cacti as he was afraid of anything beyond their low maintenance, but he made sure to greet and check on them every day. He was happy right now. Right? He wasn’t sure what happiness felt like, he rarely felt it prior to this self isolation to really know what to compare it to, but it had to be he assumed.

The loneliness was still there, it felt worse now actually, the way that emptiness lives inside him now with no regards to his biocomponents. He feels the way it scratches at his internals for.. Something he wasn’t sure what. He still sometimes lost control like he did when everything had become too much on that call with Hank, and he couldn’t figure out why he did that still either. He would be fine at home and then he’d suddenly realize that he lost himself again minutes to hours later. It didn’t happen often and only at his place so far so it wasn’t a big deal, maybe it was just his systems going idle, a glitch in the software. It was far more acceptable than when the anger made him lose control. That was dangerous, he could hurt someone (again). But just drifting off when by himself isn’t that bad. He’ll ignore it along with everything else. He is getting good at that too.

Of course, nothing could be as simple as that. He couldn’t just be content with his plants and work and his plush manta ray. It would be too kind for what he deserved. Because it finally didn’t stay something that just happened by himself.

He’s not quite sure why it even happened. One moment he was mindlessly filling reports, another slow day, thinking about if he’d need to repot one of his succulents, ignoring the gnawing feeling of emptiness coming from inside him. Next thing he knew, he was slowly blinking and everything was different.

His seat had been turned around, Hank and Nines were kneeling in front of him saying words he didn’t quite understand. Nines was holding his hand… odd.. It felt nice… ignoring that. He guessed that either confusion or recognition showed on his face as next thing he knew, Hank was saying something different from what he could tell and they both looked almost relieved. Also weird.

Finally his audio processors started functioning, “-ey, you’re okay Connor. Can you hear me? Are you with us?”

“What are you doing?” was all Connor could ask. He still felt sluggish, he always did after these moments, but he slowly felt himself come back to the present. The hand holding seemed to help as all he could focus on was the way it felt.

“You scared us there for a bit, kid,” Hank huffed, sliding a hand down his face. He looked tired, Connor just noticed, as if he hadn't been sleeping well for a while. Things were just getting weirder today.

“Why would I scare you?” Connor asked innocently glancing between the two of them before looking around. He noticed that the rest of the DPD, while not surrounding him, were much closer than before and all looked worried. When did they get there? How long had he been out?

“Do you really not know what happened?” Nines asked, his voice gentle and filled with worry. Connor couldn’t help how he felt himself relax from the kindness and concern in his eyes, how long had his shoulders been that tense? The jealousy still nipped at him, but he wouldn’t focus on that right now.

Thinking about it, Connor began to realize what happened quickly. His internal clock had skipped 23 minutes and 36 seconds.This never happened at work. Why did it happen now? What did he do wrong? This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be okay and functioning properly.

Suddenly Nines hand left his, he couldn’t help the almost weak way his own hand chased it, but then it landed on his cheek. Connor blinked and focused on Nines’ eyes who seemed to be waiting to get his full attention. (He refused to acknowledge how he leaned into the touch.)

“Connor. Has this happened before?” Nines asked now in a quiet but serious tone. He still held his face gently but now Connor was more nervous than before. So Connor just didn’t answer. Something must have shown on his face with his nonexistent answer because Nines suddenly nodded as if he understood something, but that didn’t make any sense? When had Nines learned how to read his emotions and seemingly his internal thoughts so well?

“Stay here. Hank, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere,” Nines said as he got up and walked away towards Fowler’s office who was also peering out at him. Connor went to stand but Hank’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder to keep him place. His head snapped to Hank, guard rising again and tried to intimidate the human into letting him go, but Hank merely stared back at him with stubbornness and continued holding him down. Connor knew he could just grab that invasive hand and crush it as easily as a grape. But his body seemed to lean into the touch instead and it didn’t make sense to him. Hank, again of course, noticed this and the inquisitive sheen to his eyes that he got while solving a case returned as his gaze buried deep into Connor. Connor kept his eyes as empty, guarded as possible even if the rest of his body rebelled against him. He refused to let the human in.

Nines soon returned after grabbing his horrid neon coat and quickly walked towards the pair. The other officers had started returning to their own stations seeing that there wasn’t a big issue even if they still glanced over inquisitively.

“Hey, Connor. Let’s go,” Nines put his hand out again, Connor hated how Nines figured him out so fast, and smiled gently at him. Connor glanced between the two with eyes filled with untrust, but he slowly took the hand given to him and stood up. Hank’s hand slipped away as he also stood up with a low groan of pain and hand going to his back. The coldness that took over his shoulder made him want to quickly put that hand back, but he knew better. He didn’t need it.

#i write #dbh #detroit: become human #connor rk800 #hank anderson #connor rk900 #connor whump #connor angst

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harryskalechips · 4 years

Text

Too bad I’m attracted to you Part 2

A/n Hello I am back with this fat update. You know reading part 1 made me feel a bit bummy, I thougt it was poorly written. I hope this one isn’t as shitty. Anyways, enjoy today’s post has smut, fluff and a lot of angst hahaha

Part 1

Word count: 7336

2 years later.

Winter

“Large Iced Caramel coffee for Adeline!” The barista yells out in the busy coffee shop. I make my way through the busy crowd to pick up my order.

“Thank you.” I smile sweetly as I head straight out the door. Today was a busy day, I had just finished my 2nd lecture and I knew I had to make my way home now to study or else I’m going to fall back down in a rabbit hole of binge-watching my favourite show on Netflix.

I gather my phone and coffee in one hand as I rummage through my purse to find my keys to the apartment I lived in. I wouldn’t say I came from a rich family but my parents were hard workers who had very comfortable positions in their careers that they were able to get me an apartment near campus. The only con about this place? It was a constant reminder of the man who changed me.

He wasn’t able to help me move in here but he sure was with me when I first visited this empty place. He inspired me and helped me picture how this place would come alive. He left small details of himself everywhere in my life that it was hard to not notice them.

“Do you need a hand?” The soft brunette smiled at me as she watched me try to open the main door. I was guessing she was a visitor since she didn’t have a set of her own keys. I nod my head silently as she lets out a small laugh. She takes her hand out as I pass her my coffee and try to slip my phone in the backside of my jeans. I swiftly find my keys and open the door for us.

“Thank you!” I give her an embarrassed expression as she hands me back my coffee. “I’m sorry, I’ve opened the door many times this way I guess today was just not my luck.” She laughs and takes her purple beanie off and shoves it in her trench coat.

“It’s alright, my financé thinks he can multitask all the time too yet he’s only lucky once in a while.” I laugh at her comment out of politeness. Just as she mentioned her engagement, I noticed the simple diamond resting on her finger.

“So do you live here?” I ask to kill the awkward silence as we walk into the elevators.

“No, I’m actually just here to visit my friend.” I nod my head silently, waiting for the digits on the wall to reach 11.

“This is my floor, I got to go. It was nice meeting you though!” I wave at her as I walk out. She probably thought I was a teenager living with my parents considering how I was dressed. I had my own beanie on, with the maple leafs logo on the front. I had my dyed blonde hair in braids as I carried my thick tote with my laptop inside. I also forgot to mention how I was wearing my doc martens and my teddy coat. Yes, I definitely still dressed like a basic white girl.

Some days I feel lonely in the apartment when it’s late at night and I’m studying or if I want to watch a movie before bed. I try to talk to my friends as much as I can. My best friend from high school Mya was still my best friend but it’s hard to keep in contact with her when she’s at another university living her best life. I talk to Rachel and Sam but they’re both in and out of their houses and I only really get to catch up with them if we were in class or if we were studying together. It’s not like I’ve always been the type to be a social butterfly, I always preferred a tiny circle of company than a big one. Things did start to change however after I decided to cut the attachment I had with the man I once knew. I tried to numb the pain and isolation by going to parties. I tried hooking up with guys and I did but I know full well now that I regret it…. I regret everything.

Sometimes I wished I never asked the man for help, to be mentored. Maybe, I wouldn’t feel so fucked up as I am today.

After my relationship with him ended, I felt undesired as if I was unlovable. My parents didn’t notice a thing but my sister, Marla did. Coming home from his place that night made me scrub my skin in the shower until it was fiery red, until my body and my mind screamed at my heart to stop. I began to wonder about my last moments as a senior in high school.

Did I feel violated? No.

Did I feel regretful? Yes… no… I don’t know

Did I feel used? Yes. Definitely yes.

I know you can’t force one to love you the way you love them but that night when he told me he didn’t expect us to be together as I entered University, I knew I had to leave. Why? As a young naive teenager, I believed he was the one man in my life who would ever make me feel this way. Yet, all he did was fail me and show me that our relationship wasn’t worth jack shit. Funny thing was I had no clue that the girl I met in the foyer was going to link me back to him.

“Hi! Excuse me, I don’t know if you remember me?” The voice of a familiar girl calls out my attention as I enter the building. I stomp the snow off my boots to look at the girl. She was standing in front of the couches with the pretty abstract paintings on the wall. I walk over to her and smile as I take my left airpod out and put it back in its case.

“Yeah, I do what’s up?” She had an anxious look on her face. Should I keep talking to this girl or was it kind of suspicious how very approaching she was to others? She seems really nice though.

“I’m sorry to bother you but is there any way you can sit with me until my fiancé arrives to come and pick me up?” I give her a confused face. “Here sit down I’ll explain.” I take my tote off my shoulder and sit beside her.

The unnamed girl today was wearing a sleek leather jacket while I sat next to her in just my tights and my parka. “My name is Valerie by the way.”

“Adeline,” I reply back shortly.

“My fiancé has been calling me for hours and I thought I left my phone at my house so I never bothered to check my bag to see it in there. I stayed here at my friend’s place and my fiancé found out. Let’s just say he’s angry because he knows my friend here isn’t a good friend at most times to me.” As she continued to ramble on, I was so confused as to why this girl was in such a messy position. “Is there any way you can pretend to be my friend? I promise I have good intentions, I just don’t want my fiancé to know I was here with Kacey. That’s the friend I’m talking about.”

“Um, sure?” Her fiancé was mad about her hanging out with her friend? Seems like a bad fish that needs to be let back into the sea, in my opinion.

A familiar range rover pops in front of the glass doors at the same time I look up. I notice the unfamiliar guy barely parking his car as he tries to catch the door of the person who unlocked it to get in. He had a beanie on and the hood of his jacket was on, I couldn’t see what he looked like.

“Valerie.” The familiar voice called out, my ears perking up to the sound, knowing how I once was so in love with him. I used to remember the way he spoke and the way he sounded. I listened to it all year long.

He seemed angry as he marched his way in determination towards us. What the fuck did I get myself into? I keep my gaze on the floor as I watch Valerie in my peripheral view stand up to go hug him.

“I’m sorry honey, My friend Adeline and I went on a walk around the area, I left my phone in her apartment.” With that, I look up to see him as I catch him already looking at me.

It’s been two years and he looks so different. He seemed more broader now and he was growing a little scruff. He looked older yet he seemed to carry that aura that I once found security in. His arm was wrapped around Valerie as his other one just laid against the side of his body. I try to mask my face as I stand up to walk towards him. I give a fake smile and glance at Valerie… his fiancée

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Adeline.” He gulps and nods at me.

“I’m Harry.” He pauses and glances at Valerie. “How did you two meet?” I stand there, dumbfounded. Little did he know I was covering for his finacée.

“Adeline and I met down at the coffee shop a block from here!” Valerie interjects and moves her weight onto Harry. “Anyways, Adeline it was nice spending time with you and getting to know more about your brother in the military. I think Harry and I should get going though.” The humour in all of this was both Harry and I knew I didn’t have a brother. Just a sister.

Yeah Valerie, good luck digging yourself out of this one.

I nod my head silently and watch as they both walk out. He opened the door for her, the same like he used to do for me. I noticed how fidgety he became as if the anger he felt for Valerie was no longer important. I’m pretty sure he’ll deal with her lying another time. As he makes his way around the car, he glances once more time at me to see if I was still there. I was. He started the car and drove off in a flash leaving me alone with my heart beating so fast

In my apartment now rushing in without a care in the world, I toss my bag onto the floor and rummage through the drawer of my nightstand looking for my inhaler. Fuck, where was it! Freshman year of university was tough for me. I was going through a heartbreak, the anxiety of exams were weighing on me, and I couldn’t get myself to trust people after a long time. This time, I saw him again. What did I expect? I mean I live near him too. I’m just surprised that I never caught him in the local grocery store or something. Now? He’s engaged. My first love is engaged. He found someone to love and it wasn’t me!

As I continue to toss things out onto my bed, I find my inhaler in the depths of the drawer, I pull it out and without another second, I press the button letting the air blow into me. I sit on my bum and rests my back on the side of the bed, taking in deep breaths as I unzip my jacket. Why am I broken?

…

My buzzer wakes me up as I try to snuggle more into my white sheets. I wasn’t expecting anyone who could it be? Still dressed in my tights and a loose tee, I get up and press on the mic of the electronic pad.

“Hello?” I can’t help but yawn.

“It’s um Harry.” I pause for a moment to think. What is he doing here? We haven’t talked in 2 years but how does he remember which apartment I was in? Why is he here tonight?

“Yeah, What can I do for you?” my voice turned more cold.

“Can I come up and uh talk to you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I rest my forehead on my wall.

“I have to talk to you.”

“You had 2 years to do that.” One part of me knew he wasn’t going to come up here but another part of me was begging to see him, that maybe I can get closure and move on with my life. He is engaged after all, it’s not like he’s here to seduce me.

“Adeline, please.” The softness in his voice made my mind go crazy. I remember the days when he used to use that tone with me all the time. How special I felt knowing none of my classmates knew that behind the teacher who gave us endless papers to write, there was a real softie, a real hopeless romantic.

“Alright, come up.” Without another moment, I cleaned up my tiny place as fast as I could. It was easy since I was pretty neat but tonight will be his first impression of me after 2 years. After fluffing my living room pillows, I sprint into my room to toss on a UFT sweater and brush my hair as I let it down from the messy bun it’s been in all day. The expected knocks scare me as I set my brush down and make my way to the front door. Glancing at the clock, I noticed it was just about 9 pm.

“Hey.” I smile softly as I open the door wider to let him in. Don’t show him how fucked up you are. My brain screams at me as I get a whiff of his cologne. It’s been two years and you don’t care about what happened! I try to chant to myself as I observe him looking around my apartment.

“Wow, your place is just what I’d expect it to be.” He unzips his jacket and rests on the futon beside my door.

“Yeah, would you like some tea? You can just sit on the couches.”

“Alright, thank you.” I move quickly into the kitchen making his tea, trying to ignore the feelings I have after making eye contact with him once again.

As I walked back into the living room, I noticed he was sitting while holding a frame of me with Rachel and Sam during orientation day. I place the tea on the coffee table in front of him and sit beside him, making sure to keep my distance.

“So orientation camp huh?” He smiles still looking at the picture.

“Yeah.” I smile as I look at it too. That smile was real, it was one of the first moments in my life where I didn’t care about what happened at the end of high school graduation. He sets the picture and mumbles a thank you while taking the blue clay mug and taking a sip of it.

“Still remember how I like it.” He compliments and sets the mug back down. “Did someone make this for you?” I glanced at the detail he was looking closely at. It had a handwritten sentence on it. The days have always been dark in our favour but I would change that for you.

“Yeah, my friend Chase did.” It was a gift he made me after I decided to cool down our friends with benefits status. He was willing to give me more but I wasn’t ready. I’m still not.

“He seems like a poet.'' The man bites his inner cheek and clenches his jaw, not too noticeable but I caught on.

“He has a way with words.” Not like you though, my mind had thought as I went through a mini flashback of listening to his love letter for me the first time.

It was summer and just as the days grew longer so did my time with Harry. Lying to my parents I was going to sleep over at Mya’s but instead I was at my teacher’s house. He seemed to be too focused on a letter he was writing while I laid on his couch playing a stupid game on my phone. His soft voice called me to get my attention.

“Baby,” He looks up to see me sprawled in my short shorts and a tank top. “I wrote a letter and I was wondering if you can tell me if it sounds good.”

“Who’s it for?” I sit up and toss my phone onto the couch as I make my way to sit in his lap.

“For you.” He holds onto me lovingly as he starts to read the letter. I close my eyes and rest my head on top of his, trying to remember this night.

“I’m sure you do too.” The man interrupts my thought as he looks at me. “How’s the university life, you’re in the second year right?”

“Yeah, two more and I’m out of school.” I shrug my shoulders and play with the split ends of my hair. “Still teaching at Clement’s?”

“Yeah. I'm not teaching English anymore though, I’m teaching history.”

“Oh, that’s something new. At least you get to use your history minor.” He laughs and shakes his head. I just began to observe what he was wearing. He was wearing a grey long sleeve and blue jeans. Guess some things stay the same.

“Valerie lied to me today. I came here because I wanted to know the truth before confronting her.”

“Ha-” I pause, he looks uncomfortable as I continue on. “Never knew you were the type to be possessive. You shouldn’t be like that, especially to your finacée.”

“You don’t understand, whatever she told you, I have a reason to act this way.”

“Why then?”

“First tell me why she was here.” Harry pleads. We both sit up more as I let him know.

“We met in the coffee shop and we became Fri-”

“Adeline, please tell me. Have you seen her in this building multiple times?” He asks as I can feel his frustration seeping through.

“Yes, why?”

“Fuck!” He mutters as he stands up abruptly. “Fuck!”

“Ha-... What’s wrong?!” He looks at me immediately as he sits back down beside me.

“You can’t say my name.” He calls me out. “Adeline, say my name!” I give him nothing but a blank look. He rubs his face in desperation.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m just petty. I don’t feel-”

“Why do women always lie to me!” Harry interrupts me. “Did I fuck you up so bad, you can’t even say my name?” He looks at me with tears in his eyes. “Please tell me.” I nod silently as he closes his eyes. “Feels like karma you know? After letting you go, I thought I would never be happy again until I met Valerie last year at a club.” He glances at me as I sit there quietly, letting him continue. “Want to know a funny thing? I caught her in this apartment two months ago sleeping with her ex-boyfriend. She had her locations on and when she called me, I was so confused so I searched for his name on the list downstairs. Stood outside for hours until she came out of his apartment with hickeys all over her.”

“I still don’t know why I asked her to marry me last month. She begged me to stay with her and I just thought that maybe we deserved each other because we both like to sabotage our own relationships.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to him as I move forward to rub my palm on his back.

“She’s still cheating on me.”

“I know.” And without another moment, he turns towards me and hugs me into his arms. All the anger in me dissolving because of his story, because of this moment. “I’m sorry.”

Spring

The club was very busy tonight and after waiting in line to get in, all I wanted to do was go back out and probably sleep in my bed.

“So you couldn’t hang out with us yesterday because you and Harry had dinner?” Rachel asked me earlier while we were in line going in. All Rachel and Sam knew were that Harry was my ex-boyfriend and we dated for 6 months.

“Yeah.” They didn’t know that Harry and I have been spending a lot of time together after he ended his relationship with Valerie. Valerie didn’t know anything about us, which was nice. I didn’t want her to get angry at me but I also knew she deserved it. My newly formed friendship with Harry, however, as beneficial as it was strictly platonic. It’s been two months and I feel like my mental health has improved. Maybe if Harry decides to leave my life again, I’ll be okay. I also learned how to say his name again without feeling my heart hurt. The times now have been good, I’ve been good

“Still can’t understand how you felt so in love with him, only after dating for 6 months,” Sam called out as we entered the club. She didn’t know what Mya knew. I ended up telling her at the end of summer when the break up happened. Mya told me I was 100 percent reasonable because I was involved in a serious relationship for the first time in my life.

“Hey, that guy has been eyeing you for a while,” Rachel smirks at me as she points discreetly at the cute blonde guy glancing at me while talking to his friends. I make eye contact with him and smile. As the night was still young, he made his way over to me. After a few more drinks, I knew my mission was to bring him over to mine

...

As I wake up in my sheets alone, my head pounds making me groan. Sitting up, I noticed I was in the unnamed boy’s polo. After brushing my teeth and using the toilet in my ensuite, I headed out to realize the ruckus was coming from my living room.

“Good morning beautiful.” The blond boy smiles as he sits at the dining table eating breakfast take out. “Your friend is here by the way.” He nods his head to the kitchen. As I walk into the room, the tiles sting the bottom of my feet. There, I see a pissed Harry making tea.

“Hey.” I tuck my hair behind my ear as I’m surprised he’s here. He looks at me and passes the mug into my hand without another word. “Thanks. How did you get here?”He looks behind him to see the boy eating while watching something on his phone. The unnamed boy seemed to be around my age.

“Thought I would get us some breakfast since I hadn’t heard from you yesterday but Jamie here buzzed me in without a word. Came here then he took your breakfast so he could eat. You can have min-”

“Thanks.” I smile and take a sip of the tea. “I think he should go though I didn’t even know his name until you mentioned it.” Together, we walk out and I notice Jamie finishing his container or mine.

“Thanks, Henry! Breakfast was delicious.” Harry widens his eyes then nods quietly.

“Jamie, is it alright you leave now? Harry and I have somewhere to be.” I ask nicely as he stands up and cleans up after himself.

“Yeah angel, just let me get my shirt back then I’ll be out doing my walk of shame.” He smirks as he watches me. I glance at Harry who seems to be angry again.

After Jamie leaves and Harry and I sit together on my couch using two forks sharing his bacon and eggs, he speaks up. “So that’s what you were doing yesterday huh?”

“Yeah.” My cheeks flush as I purposely only eat the yolk of the eggs, knowing Harry hates that part.

“I know it’s not my business but do you have one night stands a lot?”

“Um. last year I only had three then Chase and I had benefits until this year, after that Jace… I mean Jamie has been the last one.”

“Oh.” He says silently. “That’s cool.”

“Don’t you have one night stands a lot?” I tease as I take a sip of his coffee since my mug is empty.

“You know I'm not really keen on those. Before you, I wasn’t really into it. After you, I fell into some deep hole so yeah I did. Valerie’s my last.” I nod and glance at the quiet TV. “You know the year when you left, I was a really mean teacher. Mrs. Raisell had to speak to me and ask me to pass all my students because ⅔ were failing.”

“Maybe they deserved to fail?” I shrug my shoulders and laugh.

“No, I was purposely marking hard.”

“Are you still hurt about Valerie?”

“If I’m being honest with you, I was waiting for something to break us up. I couldn’t imagine marrying her.”

“Why not?”

“Always pictured it would be you.”

Summer

Today was going to be my first day entering Harry’s house again. I was nervous but the thing that kept my spirits up was that I was going in with Harry and the broken part of me was fixed once again. To me, it didn’t matter that Harry broke me because he fixed it, at least I have his presence here again and I don’t feel lonely anymore.

“We’re here.” Harry smiles as he steps out to open my door. I glanced at his house that seemed to bring comfort to my heart as I saw Harry nod his head for me to follow him. After locking his car, we enter his house. It smelled the same and looked just a bit different. I noticed how there were fixed holes in the wall, some of his books were missing from the shelf, and he had new windows and a new TV.

“Did Valerie change some things around here while you guys were together?” I ask as I take off my shoes and sit with him in the living room. I used to remember staying in here and cuddling him. Sometimes, I would ask him to edit my essays. He would tell me all these tips but I would drown him out, pretending to listen yet my attention was on the TV show he was watching.

“Actually, No. Valerie and I were only together for 4 months plus we were never really here. We spent most of our time at hers.” He sits down and turns the TV on.

“What’s up with the holes and missing books in here.” He looks at the holes I was staring at. He lowers the volume and speaks to me.

“Mind if I get something upstairs.” And with that he sprinted upstairs, leaving me on the couch.

As he made his way back, he handed me a mini leather journal. It was a bit torn up but it seemed to be in good condition.

“Um,” he pauses as he sits down. He turns towards me and keeps his eye contact on the closed journal. “You can read that when you get home but I can tell you what happened here.” I nod my head and take the journal and hug it into my arms. “When you left, I uh... felt like that was a bad moment for me. I just- you know why we broke up. I just didn't expect you to love me.” he looks at me while I stare at him breathe a bit heavier. This was the closure I was asking for.

“Addy, I was so excited that night and when you told me you loved me, the insecurity I had for the past 9 months just buried me. I don’t know how to explain it. I just- I was scared you would take that back later when you realized how much potential you have and how you can have a better relationship with a boy that was going through the same stuff you were. I’m sorry.” He looks at me and bends down to wipe a tear down my face.

“I always thought about your parents’ reaction if they found out about us, I thought about your friends, I thought about my parents. It was so messy in my brain. Then when you left, I realized that I loved you too but you were gone in an instant. I got so angry at myself for letting fear take over me. So um I decided to punch the walls and throw my TV through a window. Decided to take each romance book out of my shelves and pour alcohol on them.” He laughs to himself. “I even remember crying so hard, trying to tear out the pages of my favourite book, you know a copy I gave you for Christmas. Anyways, I was really mad at myself that I didn’t try to get you back. I mean I took your senior year away from you. You should experience Uni and I guess that’s what made me decide to let you go.” I cry harder and look at the almost bookless shelves

“You fucking ruined me, Harry. I tried to have fun but all I was fucking looking for was something to numb the pain you left me!”

“I know baby and I’m sorry okay! I’m sorry for not being strong enough! I’m sorry for fucking doing that! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m fucking sorry!” He yelled as we both cried on his couch.

“I fucking loved you and you threw that back in my face. I rubbed my skin so hard that night when I left this fucking place. Do you understand that? I had- my skin peeling for days after trying to get you out of my skin, trying- to … rinse your.. Scent off m-”

“Baby, are you okay?” Harry’s eyes alarmed as he watched me hyperventilate. “Fuck, Addy, you don’t have asthma!” I grasp onto his shoulders as he quickly lets go of me and runs to his kitchen, as he walks back he has his own inhaler in his hands. “Here, it’s alright, baby. I’m here now, it’s okay.” As I take in a breath, I fall into his arms and hug him.

“I love you, Adeline. I love you. Two years or not, I don’t give a fuck. I love you.”

…

The night was quiet as we cuddled together on his couch. We were both speechless about what happened earlier and now we have been watching infomercials for the past hour. Harry was petting my hair as I laid on his chest playing with the journal he gave me. “Want me to read that for you. It’s just little lines I wrote about you.” I nod my head and he takes the journal into his hands. He soon began to read each page out loud. I closed my eyes on his chest, trying to remember this night. The same way I did when I first listened to him read out his love letter.

I know you were way too bright for me

I’m hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky

All the lights couldn’t put out the dark

Runnin’ through my heart

Don’t you call him “baby”

We’re not talking lately

Don’t you call him what you used to call me

Forget what I said

It’s not what I meant

And I can’t take it back, I can’t unpack the baggage you left

Sunflower, my eyes want you more than a melody

Fall

“Ahh, Harry let me down!” I scream as I feel his arms engulf me as he lifts me off my feet. “If I don’t unpack my things then I’m going back to mine!” I tease as he laughs putting me back down but not without stuffing his mouth in between my neck so he can leave kisses there.

“You can’t, you sold it already. You’re living here with me forever!” He murmurs against my jaw as he turns me around and leans me against his counter. “You’re here with me now.” He smiles as I kiss him on the nose.

After rekindling our relationship, I decided to sell the apartment and live with him since I’ve spent more time at his place than mine. When I told my parents about Harry, they were happy and they agreed with me moving out. Little did they know that I was dating Harry back when I was still his student but I think that’s a story for another time.

“Oh no, what did I sign up for! I’m living here with you… forever!” I pretend to sigh but he pinches my hips and lifts me onto his dark blue counter.

“Promise baby it won’t be too bad. We’ll redecorate the place just how you want it. We can spend so much more time together and… we can have sex anywhere you want.”

“Hm, I like that.” I kiss him on the lips as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I know you do baby.” He laughs. He kisses me harder then pulls away. “Are you done unpacking your mugs or should I organize the bookshelves myself?” He smirks as he watches me pout. I tug on my pigtail and hop down the counter.

“I want to help you, of course!”

That night we spent hours reorganizing his book collection. I even added some of my own since I’m an English major too. The shelves that were once empty were now filled with many genres of books but I made sure that the majority of them were romance.

“Baby, are you almost finished?” I knock on Harry’s office as I see him marking his last stack of history papers.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” He looks up at me and sighs as he glances back at the hill of papers that don’t seem to shrink.

“I was hoping you and I could spend some time tonight since I just finished my homework.” I walk inside the room and close the door. I make my way onto the couch that I’ve grown used to and sit down. Harry was wearing his glasses with his grey sweatpants and a plain white tee. I was wearing his polo and just my panties. Tonight though, no funny business. I’m here to keep him company yet let him focus on marking. “You know I took AP history, maybe I can help you with the marking like old times.” I lick my lips as he glances at me from the paper he was reading, he took a bit too long to respond since he was too focused.

“Yeah, alright, go grab a paper. The research question should revolve around world war 1 and Canada’s involvement.” With that, I took the paper from his stack and picked out a pen from his mug. I got him that for Teacher Appreciation Day when I was still his student.

A couple of hours after, I didn’t realize I fell asleep on his couch as I watched him finish the last few. All I remember is him carrying me to our bedroom.

“Oh, I’m sorry I fell asleep?” I yawn as I watch him beside me getting settled into bed. The fairy lights around our room set the vibe since I decided to hang them up because Christmas was just around the corner again. “You should’ve woke me up instead of carrying me to bed.” He looks at me and laughs, bending down to kiss my forehead.

“It’s okay baby, plus you could be awake and I’d still carry you to bed. Thank you for helping me mark tonight. It reminds me of the old times.” He hovers over me and intertwines both of our hands on either side of my face.

“It’s alright.” I smile as I watch his eyes look at me. “ You know I was thinking, if we don’t count the two-year break, we’ve been together for about 15 months.” He licks his lips and kisses me on the lips.

“Feels weird huh? Feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” He kisses down my neck even though we both know we’re both very tired. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you so much more,” Harry whispers back as we finish the night with sloppy, slow sex.

Winter

“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Harry, Happy birthday to you.” I sing softly as I carry a stack of pancakes with a lit candle on top. Harry was just waking up, surprised at the view of me in just his shirt. I carefully crawl on the bed so he can blow the candle out. He reaches out and closes his eyes for a moment before blowing the flame out.

“Thank you.” Harry murmurs as he comes closer to kiss me. “I love you, Addy.”

“I love you too.” I kiss him back. “Here’s your fork, let me just get your coffee downstairs!” I was just about to get out of bed but he holds onto my hand.

“Stay, I can get some coffee later.”Since it was a Saturday, we were very lucky to stay in bed and watch TV all morning. Harry was feeding me a couple of bites while I would let my fingers massage his scalp for hours.

“You know I don’t know how I got so whipped for you, Ms. Chastain.” He murmurs against my jaw after he sets the plate down on his nightstand. “Saw you standing there, the first day in class and I knew I just had to get to know you.” I laugh and sink myself more into the sheets so he can hover over me.

“You know I didn’t know we would get back together. Thought I would never see you again.” He rubs himself on me as I let my fingers graze over his newly shaved chin.

“Are you happy to be with me?” He asks seriously as he kisses my jaw.

“Mhm.” I moan.

“You love me yeah?”

“I do.” He looks up and smiles at me. He kisses my forehead then lifts up my (his) shirt off my stomach. “Harry.”

“I love you, Addy. So fucking much I do.” The wetness of his tongue teases my stomach as he makes his way back to the top of my chest so he can suck on my nipples. “So fucking beautiful you are.”

“Harry.” I pant as I watch him take a nipple into his warm mouth. His other hand playing with my panties and teasing my core.

“Can’t believe I let other guys touch you. You should’ve been mine only. To touch, to love on, to moan for.” He inserts his fingers in me as I scratch his back. “Moan for me baby, scream my name.”

“Daddy, fuck, oh my god. Faster please!” he gropes my boobs and slaps my wet pussy.

“Too bad I’m attracted to you yeah? Don’t give a fuck what you do, who you sleep with. I just want to love you all day long.” He whispers in my ear as I touch his hard dick and try to jerk him off too.

“Love you, you’re so big, daddy!” Without another moment, I come undone as he moans too at the sight of me. He takes my hands off his dick and teases my entrance a bit before putting it in.

“Remember that time I gagged you with your panties and blindfolded you with my tie.” I nodded. “Fucked you so hard and bent you over my desk that day. So difficult after you left me to mark homework on that desk. I couldn’t stop hearing your moans in my mind baby. You fucked me up so hard.” And with that, he thrust into me so fast as he reached forward to choke my neck.

“Daddy!” I open my eyes to see him, biting his lip watching himself fuck me hard.

“Open your eyes love, want you to see me tear you apart.” He helps me sit up and rests my back on the headboard as I watch him fuck me over and over again. “Fuck, don’t look at me like that, I might just have to turn you over right now and spank you.” He takes his thumb and puts it into my mouth so I can suck on it.

“Then turn me over daddy, spank me while I feel you in my stomach.” He bends down to kiss my lips and just as I was about to kiss him back he turns me over on all fours. Slapping my ass twice before putting himself back in me.

“So wet, baby.” He pulls my hair out of my face as he thrusts faster. I clench my fingers around our pillows, trying to also hold onto the headboard. “You fucking like that when I fuck you hard? Such a slut for my cock baby. So wet, you’re fucking leaking for me.” He teases his finger around my other whole. “Look at this one, I might have to try and give this one attention next time what do you think?” As I moan, attempting to reply he cuts me off, “Maybe now is a good time.” He spits onto the hole, teasing his finger around it. “Are you okay with this Addy, do you like how it feels?”

“Mhm.” Harry pulls onto my hair a bit harsher.

“Answer me correctly, say it properly. Let daddy know.”

“Yes!” He slips his thumb into my now wet hole as he fucks me faster.

“Fuck, I wanna put a baby in you so bad baby.”

“Put one in then.” I moan and reach down to rub my clit.

“Get off birth control and I won’t doubt for a second to put one in.” He grits his teeth and flips us over so I’m riding him. “Be a good girl, show me how good you are.” He whispers and slaps my butt. I watch his face turn into pleasure as I roll my hips onto his, trying my best to fuck him well. My moans were seemingly uncontrollable as I feel him deep in my stomach.

“Come for me daddy please fill me up!” I whine and without another second, we come together. Harry reaches quickly for my neck, choking me as he thrusts his hips upwards. His seed fills me up as I un slide myself off him and reach down to taste us. He watches me with a smirk as I lay back down beside him. I feel him move his arm underneath me, as he searches for something. As I lay beside him looking at the ceiling, I watch his hand open a black velvet box in front of me.

“Harry,” I whisper, turning to look at him.

“I know it’s my birthday but the only wish I had in mind was if you said yes to the question I’m about to ask you.” He sits up a bit as I mimic his position.

“Adeline Chastain, I knew you ever since you were 18 and I’ve loved you ever since then. You would make me the happiest man in the world if you would marry me?” I watch him as we both cry so happily together.

“Yes, Harry, I will!” He takes the pear-shaped diamond engagement ring and slides it onto my finger. He kisses me softly as his fingers touch the necklace he bought me for graduation.

“I’m very much in love with you and I promise to take care of your heart, to protect you, and make you the happiest woman in my life.” and with that we kissed again, leading us to the never-ending hours of activities in the bed.

When I was 18, I was naive. I thought Harry would be the only man in my life who would ever make me feel this way.

And I was right.

#too bad I'm attracted to you #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harrystyles oneshots #harrystyles fluff #cute #teacher!harrystyles #love #harrystylesimagine #onedirection

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Killing Eve: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Season 1, Episode 8 - God, I’m Tired

S1E8’s finale begins with Villanelle joined by Irina, who she has kidnapped as leverage against Konstantin. Irina is shouting at Villanelle and annoying her and tells her that she needs food to make her stop, so they go for a burger.

While they are sitting and eating their burgers, Irina tells Villanelle that she knows so many languages because Konstantin told her that “language is information and information is everything”. This is evidently something that Konstantin also instilled in Villanelle, as she repeats the last bit of the expression as Irina is saying it and tells her “yeah, I know”. The fact that Konstantin gave the same advice to both Villanelle and Irina, who is his actual daughter, shows us how Konstantin views them both as his ‘daughters’.

Villanelle continues the conversation with Irina, asking her if she knows “German... Spanish... Mandarin”. We can see from this that Villanelle is trying to one-up Irina. After finding out that Konstantin also gave Irina the same advice he gave her, Villanelle is trying to prove she’s better than Irina in their language knowledge in a sort of ‘sibling rivalry’ or just general competition.

After Irina asks Villanelle if she’s a bad person, Villanelle also returns the question asking Irina “are you?”, to which Irina says “I don’t know yet”. We’re reminded of this later in S3E6 when Irina runs over her mother’s boyfriend with the car, showing that it looks like she might be becoming a “bad person”.

When Irina and Villanelle arrive at Anna’s apartment, Villanelle gets Irina to distract Anna so that doesn’t have to confront her, and can slip in unnoticed to get her passport and money. Villanelle could have easily just killed Anna and saved herself from the trouble of using Irina as a distraction and trying to sneak in; however, the fact that she chooses not to, shows how she does still have some care for Anna. Villanelle also pauses to look at Anna, and even takes a small step towards her, before quickly choosing not to go any further and continues into the bedroom.

When Villanelle enters the bedroom the camera specifically pans to the bed and lingers there, and then cuts back to Villanelle who is looking at it. This is another clever moment that implies Villanelle and Anna’s relationship was intimate, without explicitly revealing it yet.

The song playing while Villanelle is searching for her coat in Anna’s bedroom is Unloved’s ‘Tell Mama’. The lyrics heard through the scene are:

“Don’t say a word,

don’t forget,

you're safe with me,

tell mama,

tell mama all”

The lyrics seem to mirror the relationship that Villanelle had with Anna. Anna probably made Villanelle feel that she was “safe with [her]”, and being referred to as “mama” reflects the nurture and care Villanelle probably thought Anna was giving her. The fact that these lyrics are playing while Villanelle is in Anna’s bedroom, arguably the most private and personal room of someone’s home, also shows how intimate the relationship was as well as the protection that Villanelle probably felt from Anna.

When Anna enters the room and sees Villanelle, she asks to clean her face saying “you’re hurt... look at you, Oksana, please”, continuing to say “let me clean your face” and “let me, darling”. Although this could have been Anna’s ‘plan’ to get Villanelle off her guard so she could shoot her; it was probably more likely that it was a genuine reaction of care and concern for Villanelle, especially with the extra emotions of seeing someone she cared about and thought was dead, after all this time. We can also see that Villanelle is affected by Anna’s concern as well as seeing someone she probably once loved, as she looks sad and tears up, agreeing to let Anna clean her face, saying “it does sting a bit”.

It’s not until Villanelle is remarking that everything in Anna’s apartment is “exactly the same” and says “even this chair. I think the best sex we ever had was on that chair”, that Anna pulls out her gun to Villanelle. Although Anna says “I spent every night dreaming that you were alive so I could shoot you myself”; it seems that when she initially saw Villanelle she was more overcome by the love she once had for her than any hatred. However, when Villanelle reminds her about the “sex” they had, she is reminded of her guilt surrounding their relationship and how being in that relationship led to her husband’s death, and so pulls out the gun. Carolyn’s comment that she made to Eve in S1E6, that “maybe it was the fact that I loved them made me dislike them so much”, might also ring true for Anna; maybe it’s the fact that Anna loved Villanelle so much and the guilt from it, that she also dislikes her so much now.

Even when Irina asks “did you two used to go out?”, both Anna and Villanelle reply with “she seduced me”, which Anna follows up by saying “ugh, it as you” and Villanelle says “come on”. Although Anna is finally admitting that she and Villanelle were in a relationship, she still won’t take any responsibility for her part in that relationship, even though she was the adult and should never have allowed herself to enter into such a relationship with her student.

Villanelle also tells Anna that “you look older”, before more softly adding “it’s nice”. This confirms what was previously hinted at through this season, that Villanelle prefers older women.

Villanelle then tells Eve and Konstantin to meet her at Cafe Raduzhny so she can get her passport and money, as well as finish her job of killing Konstantin. While they’re having their stand-off, Konstantin says “Villanelle, don’t break my heart”, to which she says “don’t break mine” and then looking towards Eve adds “you either”. By Villanelle telling Eve, as well as Konstantin who she’s very close to and known for a long time, not to break her heart; it shows the attachment she has already grown for Eve despite not knowing her for as long. Her saying this also indicates that Anna broke Villanelle’s heart and she doesn’t want a repeat of what happened with Anna, to happen with her and Eve.

Villanelle also asks Konstantin “who’s your favourite? Me or her [Irina]”, then she says “it’s me isn’t it?” before he agrees saying “yes”. Although Villanelle is about to kill Konstantin to finish her job, she still wants confirmation before he dies that she was actually his favourite. Remembering this moment is even sadder after the events in S2E8, when although Villanelle knows she is Konstantin’s favourite, he still abandons her because she’s “not family”.

We also get a call back to S1E6 when Villanelle asked Konstantin “why have you never tried to have sex with me?”. Instead this time, Villanelle tells Eve “you know we’ve never had sex. Weird huh?”, Konstantin replies saying “I’m married” and Villanelle says “you’re a romantic, and a good person, I think”. The fact that Villanelle thinks its “weird” that Konstantin never tried to have sex with her shows that in Villanelle’s mind someone in his position would have tried to. It also reminds us of Anna, and if she was not “a romantic” or a “good person” because unlike Konstantin, she did have sex with her.

This imagery of this shot of Eve and Villanelle pointing their guns at one another is very reminiscent of Michelangelo’s painting, ‘The Creation of Adam’. This imagery of man and it’s creator makes sense as there’s a lot of mirror imagery and similarities drawn between Villanelle and Eve. In the shot, Villanelle is on the right hand side and slightly higher, just like the position of God in the painting; and Eve is on the left hand side and slightly lower, just like the position of Adam in the painting. This symbolises the ‘new’ Eve being given life by her creator, Villanelle (she is the one who sparked Eve to start on her journey of ‘self discovery’ and so also her creator), which is a character development of Eve’s that we see gradually happen from the beginning of Season 1 all the way up to Season 3.

The link of the two images also serves to emphasise the similarities of Eve and Villanelle, something which is frequently done throughout the series. The painting is supposed to show God and Adam similarly because ‘man’ was supposed to be made in the image and likeness of God, in the same way, using this imagery for the scene shows how Villanelle and Eve are also one in the same.

Villanelle then returns to her Paris apartment, finding that it’s been trashed by Eve. Eve asks Villanelle “what do you want? Honestly don’t be a dick” and Villanelle says she wants “normal stuff. Nice life, cool flat, fun job... someone to watch movies with”. Although the audience might not be sure about the other things she says she wants, we can know that she’s being genuine about the bit where she says she wants someone to watch movies with as this was brought up all the way back in S1E1. In S1E1 Villanelle asks Konstantin “do you want to stay and watch a movie?”, he replies saying “no, I can’t I’m sorry”, which she repeats while he’s saying it. The fact that she knows what Konstantin’s response will be word for word, shows how it’s obviously something that she’s asked him a lot and he’s always said “no” to. We can see from her asking so many times for him to stay and watch a movies with her that she’s been lonely, and wishing for company, for a long time.

In this scene, we also get a full circle moment of Villanelle’s reflection in the mirror from her dresser. The first (and last) time we saw Villanelle looking at her reflection in the mirror of her dresser, was in the first episode in S1E1. We get a contrast to that moment in this scene; the first time she was looking at her reflection her self reflection only went as far as surface level, her life was all about her, she didn’t care about who she was killing for, she was vain and self centred. However, when she’s looking at her reflection in this scene, she’s reflectin about what she wants from life and her future potentially with Eve, and she’s exploring the possibility of loving someone again (after the two of the previous most important people she had, Konstantin and Anna, dying).

‘Cry Baby Cry’ by Unloved is also playing through this scene. The lyrics thats can be heard are:

“Don’t give me your heart,

I can’t take it,

Don’t give me a reason,

I could break it”

The line of lyrics seems to hint at the impossibility of their love, they should’ve give each other their hearts because neither one of them is/will be able to manage with the other’s. The second line also reminds us of when Villanelle told Eve and Konstantin in Cafe Raduzhuny not to break her heart.

When Villanelle and Eve are lying on the bed, Villanelle looks at Eve’s hair first and goes straight to touch it. Throughout the season the point was made that Villanelle’s fixation on hair was because of Anna, and even though Anna just killed herself, Villanelle is still focused on Eve’s hair.

When Eve pulls out the switchblade, Villanelle tells her “you can’t”, to which Eve replies “I can. I can”. Villanelle underestimated Eve, she thought that she would be ‘weak’ like Anna and Nadia but that’s the difference and is what makes Eve “special” in comparison. Eve has been underestimated her whole life (in her professional and personal life) and so now she takes this opportunity to show that she “can”, she does have what it takes and more importantly she has what it takes to be like Villanelle. We saw from the destruction of Villanelle’s flat (the clothes and the champagne), that Eve is almost jealous of Villanelle’s lifestyle and so wants to prove that she could be like Villanelle (which is what happens further on when we get to season 3, except Villanelle also changes to be more like Eve as Eve is changing to be more like Villanelle).

After Eve has stabbed Villanelle, Villanelle tells Eve “I really liked you. It hurts”. Villanelle saying “it hurts” right after she told Eve “I really liked you”, shows that she is not just in physical pain from the stab but also emotional - she really liked Eve, and thought Eve liked her too, so she’s been emotionally hurt by Eve as well as physically stabbed.

You can read my previous Killing Eve posts here:-

First Introduction to Villanelle

First Introduction to Eve

S1, E1 - Nice Face

S1, E2 - I’ll Deal With Him Later

S1, E3 - Don’t I Know You?

S1, E4 - Sorry Baby

S1, E5 - I Have a Thing about Bathrooms

S1, E6 - Take Me to the Hole!

S1, E7 - I Don’t Want to Be Free

S2, E1 - Do You Know How to Dispose of a Body?

S2, E2 - Nice and Neat

S2, E3 - The Hungry Caterpillar

S2, E4 - Desperate Times

S2, E5 - Smell Ya Later

S2, E6 - I Hope You Like Missionary!

S2, E7 - Wide Awake

S2, E8 - You’re Mine

S3, E1 - Slowly Slowly Catchy Monkey

S3, E2 - Management Sucks

S3, E3 - Meetings Have Biscuits

S3, E4 - Still Got It

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 1]

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 2]

S3, E6 - End of Game

S3, E7 - Beautiful Monster

S3, E8 - Are You Leading or Am I? [Part 1]

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atypicalsenerio · 3 years

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How do you repay someone who's given everything you've ever asked for, with or without your knowing?

Ike's not even half as smart as Soren. He knows this. All this while, he's relied on him for many things; his objectiveness, his tactical analysis, and has always, always counted on him to have a clear mind when he could not.

But Soren-- Soren is also a living, breathing person, and that makes him much more than that. The icy mage can get distracted, shows irritation, huffs (but he knows he's satisfied, perhaps even happy) and veils himself behind a wall of words that say everything about him and also nothing to those who don't quite know him. Soren tries-- very, very much.

The grains of time had piled up like a mountain, each a glimmering gold. Soren had given all of that to him, since day one. He'd not noticed, because he was silly. He'd noticed, but knew that any he could pay back was but a dim silver.

And then, he'd not paid back at all, and the grains had continued to trickle still.

Fingers run across the portrait that he'd been gifted. A memory of the past, a rallying cry.

But to him, wouldn't need something like this. Unlike Ike, who forgets, who blunders.

Because-- all this while, Soren has forged his own path, looking onward. Whatever that drives him had always been ahead of him, so a token of the past wouldn't be as meaningful.

The night passes. The day breaks.

A knock comes to the mage's door. Ike invites himself in, greets Soren with a warm smile and a nod.

"Happy birthday."

"I thought that this one out of the rest would be the most meaningful for you. I wish I could think of more, but-- here."

“My memory’s not as good as yours, but this is as close as I can remember.”

The crinkling of oil paper reveals a simple meal. It's nothing special-- slices of bread and lettuce and bacon. The taste wouldn't be the same; he's not his mother, and neither does he know well enough the taste of homecooked lunch. The best mimicry he can make of it is in its shoddy craftsmanship.

But it's as much as he can make.

"... And, I also thought about what I should do for next time."

A faint rustling, and fingers unfurl to reveal a band impressed with a seal, strung up with a line of rope.

“The signet rings gave me an idea. These are meant to be heated and pressed into rock, and they’ll leave stamp marks. So if you see this on a tree or a rock, you’ll know that I’ve been along the way. And—”

A faint tinkle, and Soren should feel cool metal land in his own palm.

“Here. There’s one for you, too. So it won’t be just you who’s looking the next time.”

He spends the rest of the time there he has with Soren, as long as the lamps allow. Eventually, they have to say goodbye to each other, and Ike waves goodbye, knowing that they'll see each other the next day.

The door creaks shut.

...

There’s also another reason for them. Ike presses his fist shut around the ring, feeling as if it would deform under his grip. It’s but an illusion of flesh, but held so tight, the ring feels like it gains warmth of its own.

Perhaps it truly does, for when Ike releases, letting the string catch on his finger, it turns, twirling like a pendulum, swinging one way and the other.

He holds it out. The swinging doesn’t stop, not for a long time. Ike catches it, and its head faces south—towards the door he’d come from.

It could just be his imagination.

But also; whilst in Castle Nados, there was some evidence left. There wasn’t enough to make good for a teleport, as much as Ike would have loved to, but with what he had, he’d put it in the rings.

It was mostly sentimental value. There shouldn’t be any effect with this little, but even if he couldn’t feel the reputed pull that the powder brings towards linking two points in space, perhaps the metal could.

Perhaps. It’s a little edge more, one more tiny patch for a gaping hole. A trinket at best.

But it's transcended it's purpose in the past, and taken on a new one for the future.

The ring lands in his palm, twinkling like an eye.

Ike still can't find an true answer to the question-- not now, and not still. He's not smart enough for something that slices down to the bone.

That was always more Soren's thing. He just barged in like a brute, and did what he thought worked best.

Perhaps that's his answer, this time. Because it's in the present, which ticks by like a leaky sieve.

If you can’t cut the truth in two; warming it up little by little--

Ike supposes-- Maybe, that’s fine, too.

All day long, there had been one person Soren wanted to see most on his birthday. They were close enough that Soren wouldn’t have minded if Ike was busy, they spent so many of their days together. It was with a softened smile that he welcomed Ike to his room, other gifts on his bed.

“Ike. Thank you. It has been. I wonder who let the date slip to everyone else. I have to admit I’m surprised by it.” This amount of casual attention, perhaps bordering on affection from others, people who mostly barely knew him, was too much to pass off as just flattery from someone trying to get their way or a favor returned to him. Being a part of a community and seeing it manifest in the smallest of ways in notes and trinkets had touched him in a way he hadn’t expected, nor voice directly to anyone else.

Ike, however, was the highlight of his day. Even empty handed, he would be. When all else faded, when it was no longer his birthday, he would still have Ike.

Perhaps the events of the day had him feeling especially sentimental. Soren took the offered sandwich, looking up at Ike. “This is how your mother used to make your lunch, isn’t it? It’s simple, but it really is my favorite meal. Perhaps your love of bacon is contagious,” he teased, voice gentle. “I might have a plain palette, but I wouldn’t change a thing about it. Funny, how the mind works,” he said fondly, taking a bite. There was nothing inherently special about the bread, lettuce, or bacon, but the memory attached made it all crisper, sweeter.

He set the sandwich down and turned his attention to the ring in Ike’s hand, watching it lower into his own palm. His heart skipped a beat at the association, foolishly, of rings and someone he cared for. (Who was the dense one here, anyway? Was it in fact, Soren? He was giving Ike’s history of being oblivious a real run for its money if he was…) Soren swallowed, a slight blush on his face as Ike explained. Hopefully, there would be no next time they were separated, but if there was—

“That’s brilliant. You’re brilliant. Thank you, Ike. I’ll guard mine well.” He slipped the ring on his finger to admire it, and felt the cord it was attached to. He raised his head, and he took a step forward.

A rush of affection carried him the rest of the short distance to Ike. Soren couldn’t remember initiating a hug before, but he did it before he could think, taking advantage of the chance to hide his warm face against Ike’s chest and cling to him in a display he didn’t want to hold back from anymore.

Every admittance and display of his flaws over the years, every conversation that had been a burst of what had always eaten away at him, the grounds for which anyone else would reject him, every part of himself or his background that had made him feel alone and unlovable— every syllable had been like asking Ike, ‘Are you sure you want me? Are you sure I’m worthy of being your friend? Are you sure, are you sure, are you sure?’ And every gesture, every answer from Ike had always been a confident, steady, ‘Yes’, as though Soren had never needed to ask at all, had never needed to fear his own vulnerable spots.

Soren squeezed Ike’s body in his smaller arms for a moment, hoping he was doing this whole hug thing right, overwhelmed and happier than he knew what to do with, for once overflowing with something other than painful memories and a silhouette that used to feel more shaped by old wounds and recurring rejection than his own lived life. “Thank you, Ike. For being here.” For being you, the only way you know how, so natural to you you don’t see how exceptional you are.

“I think I’d like to keep celebrating birthdays from now on.”

#//IKE #//BIG PLEAD FACE #//I finally had time to sit and Write but I was thinking about this for days #//Soren likely notices anything more about the ring later #//that concludes his birthday!#//I’m soft ok #ceaselessblade #ask

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ratsoh-writes · 3 years

Text

My curiosity got me, so here is my submission for a match up. Sorry it’s so long! I look forward to seeing your reasoning.

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

MOM FRIEND: I’m the friend that is almost over prepared for any situation and is protective, usually keeping others out of too much trouble or danger, but not stopping them from doing that stupid thing. Some people will only learn from doing it and so long as it won’t seriously injure or kill them, go for it. And I mean I am seriously prepared for most situations: I have fluffy throw blankets and pillows in my car for those who get cold, extra towels just in case we somehow get wet, umbrellas/ponchos for those who need one, snacks/water just in case someone gets hungry/thirsty, first aid kit for small injuries, etc. Ironically, I am the only one without a kid so far.

Extension of this would be my habit to act as the friend “nurse.” Willing to spend hours taking care of a friend who isn’t feeling well and give platonic cuddles if needed.

Another extension of this is my need to feed anyone who comes over. I think my love language is acts of service after typing all this.

I’M LISTENING: Always willing to offer an ear, even if I don’t believe I can council you. Plus, for some reason, people just end up splurging life stories or something that is bothering them to me. My life is mostly spent as that Naruto meme: “I have no clue what is going on, but I’ll pretend that I do.” But I’m responsible about it, I won’t offer advice I’m not sure about and will usually refer you to someone else I feel is up to the task.

PATIENT: Earned after years in customer service dealing with toddlers disguised as customers and also with friends who far exceed my energy levels. It takes a good bit to anger me or very specific things to set me off, such as when I have asked you to please stop bringing up that stressful memory of mine again and again.

I am told I am terrifying when I’m actually pissed. Most times I don’t remember much when I actually snap, just that it happened, but details are fuzzy.

CHILL: My counselor once told me if I “Was any more laid back, I’d be on her floor.” And to a point, she is correct. My house was on fire and my reaction wasn’t panic at the time, it was this odd calm that even when I reported the fire to my sister and authorities, they didn’t believe me until I showed them said fire. I am reserved with those I don’t know well or are not comfortable around. Once I trust you or you get me on a topic I love, I’m surprisingly passionate and animated.

I feel this fits under here, but I also tend to do things at my own pace. And not much can change that pace, but I will get what I set out to do done.

WHY ME?: Too many people tell me I’m a natural leader, even got awards for it, but I never volunteer or want to be the leader in anything. Usually, I just end up in that role somehow, some way. Most times because I hate disorganized messes and those times the people I am with have trouble making concrete decisions and need some guidance to work out what they really want to do or the pressure to actually make a decision. I may be an unwilling leader, but I will step up if needed.

WHIMSICAL: Sarcasm, dry and sometimes cheesy humour, and an attitude to boot, but it’s rarely to be mean. Most times it is me being playful and if I’m teasing you, that usually is a sign I like you and enjoy your company. Plus, sometimes people need a little laugh or a spark of different emotion to get them out of a funk.

INTEGRITY: I could absolutely despise someone, but like hell I’m going watch them suffer. In the same sense, if I take a job, I will do it right and not half ass it. And far too many times I’ve had to step in and explain certain concepts in order to disperse negativity or help others see from another perspective to avoid adversity.

CUDDLE BUG: With people I am comfortable with, I am a cuddly person and do not mind a lot of skinship. I am used to friends hanging all over me. Plus, sometimes I just want to curl up someone as well.

STRENGTHS:

Observant

Good communication skills & honest

Responsible & reliable

Full Size Human Heater. I am ridiculously warm and always putting off heat. Friends and coworkers alike use me as a portable heater.

Surprisingly good at being sly and collecting information if needed, like getting a shoe or ring size without tipping the person off it’s for a gift. If they manage to call it, I always fess up and playfully make a fuss they ruined the surprise.

WEAKNESSES:

Terrible at lying, so I tend to simply keep my mouth shut instead

Willfully oblivious to flirting and absolute flustered mess once I am forced to recognize said flirting

Vast open waters terrify me

Tendency to keep my troubles to myself and try to solve problems on my own (don’t want to be a burden)

Can become despondent if I feel useless at times

HOBBIES:

ART: I’ve dabbled in several different medias, but my favorite is just a pencil or pen and any paper I can get my hands on. I love drawing figures in dynamic poses. Second favorite is sculptures built from wire.

COSTUMES: I love Halloween, since it is the perfect excuse to make and wear my homemade costumes. It also lets me challenge myself by making more complicated pieces like hooves, horns, and even chain mail.

BAKING/COOKING/CANDY MAKING: I’m the cook in the house and I love it. Seeing people enjoy my food is my favorite part. Just don’t ask me for a recipe, I literally don’t have any and I won’t remember what I did.

ORGANIZING/CLEANING: I love puzzle games like Tetris and Catherine, and I love a challenge. Combine the two by having me organize and rearrange a space to make it work and I am in heaven.

STORYTELLING: When a story needs to be told, I am the one asked to tell it. Specifically I have such an entertaining way of telling it according to others. Animated and colorful language, plus a few pit stops along the way with some side stories.

PET PEEVES:

CONTRARY: Do not tell me to do something while I am doing it. That will kill any motivation I had to do it.

BACKHANDED COMPLIMENTS: It is possible to compliment someone without insulting them or others at the same time. It just makes the compliment feel empty and negative. And I tend to just hum and not reward that behaviour.

TOO MUCH ATTENTION: I don’t mind attention… from people I trust and are comfortable with. Feel free to cuddle and coddle away. But vast amounts of attention from those I feel are strangers or acquaintances will unnerve me (I have literally left functions immediately where I walked in and was bombarded with shouts and attention aimed at me-sensory overload I guess).

ODD HABITS:

NESTING: No, I don’t think I have enough blankets and pillows. Yes, the giant stuffed animal is needed and his name is Snuffie.

CRUSH ME: I’m serious, some days I need one of my friends or my bf to just lay all their dead weight on top of me. It’s just oddly therapeutic.

NO, I’M NOT PREGNANT: Just cause I ate that jar of olives in one sitting or suddenly was craving jalapeno juice and crushed ramen noodles. There are never enough pickles and yes, I am determined to try every kind–I may have a vinegar addiction.

IRONY: I bake some of the tastiest, sweetest desserts and make pralines and caramels, YET I myself do not favor sweet things.

HANDS: One thing I tended to do with nearly every boyfriend and guy friend I had was play with their hands and put their hands on my face/head. I lived for being pet and having people play with my hair.

NONVERBAL MOMENTS: Sometimes words are just too much, so I instead make sounds. Can be anywhere from a growl to a cat like noise, or the reliable “Nyeh.”

NO NOs:

I think I listed a few as I went through everything else, but ignoring boundaries is the main one. If I tell you I’m not comfortable with something, do not make me repeat myself. And usually that something is given a pass the first few times it is done before I say something and explain why I’m not comfortable with it.

Example: I have thick, curly hair, a product of my mixed heritage. Well, sometimes I like to straighten it and I did just that one day. Well, a coworker decided to make a backhanded compliment, stating I should stick to what works: straight hair over my natural hair. I had gotten on him about it, but I decided to vent to a friend about what happened as well. She proceeded to constantly repeat those hurtful words and while I knew she meant it playfully during those times, I had to stop her and sit her down, explain I don’t find it funny cause the words are linked to a hurtful, possibly racist memory that I didn’t want brought up again and again. Thankfully she understood and stopped. So, I don’t snap immediately and I understand sometimes a sit down needs to be done.

Ok first of all I gotta say that I absolutely loved reading your matchup!!! It’s so well organized, detailed, and the descriptions are pretty creative!!! Do you do any writing yourself, because you should!!! alright, geek out moment over.

i’ve got three guys you’re perfect for, but let’s go for the obvious one. HONEY!!

You’ve checked off everything on honey’s list: caring, organized, laid back, and good for cuddling. Now here’s what he has to offer to the table: he will cuddle you back. This guy is the ultimate cuddle slut. You’ll never feel unloved with him. Honey is also a very thoughtful and appreciative guy. He likes caring for his partners. You may be the mom friend, but he’ll do his best to return that love as well.

Honey is a little awkward, but he’s also sensitive and empathetic to how others feel. If he puts his foot in his mouth, just tell him and he’ll never bring it up again. Plus this guy is just so honest and genuine that backhanded compliments aren't really a thing with him.

Also you like costumes!!! He’s always wanted to try cosplay or theatre. You just might be the person to give him the courage to finally stick to one.

dating honey includes:

cuddles upon heaps of soft things. He has his own collections of ridiculously soft blankets and pillows that he’ll happily add to your collection. Honey is also a master at pillow forts.

honey is a good listener. He’ll be happy to just sit back and enjoy the stories you tell. There is start though, who is also the storyteller of the underswap home. Any funny story you give about your time together will be rewarded by star with a funny story from his and honey’s childhood, much to honey’s embarrassment

if you don't really like sweet things but love baking them, then honey and star will happily finish them for you. People are usually surprised about how just how much skeleton monsters can pack away.

he’s a picky eater and will give you the wtf face when you fufil your weird cravings though lol

Oh! Also if you’re wondering, the other two would’ve been either oak or coffee

#undertale imagines #underswap #matchups #submission

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