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kaedekolya · 1 month

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clarence and his counterparts: man or monster?

So we were talking about Clarence’s new android SSR (Faint Night Light) in the LBC discord server, and it got me thinking about the monster allusions that seem to be a common thread across Clarence’s main stories. Then we discussed the diary entries from his White Day event, and it occurred to me that this monster imagery also ties into his modern-day counterpart – and with that, this post was born.

In other words: is Clarence a man, a monster, or somewhere in between?

[ SPOILERS: Clarence’s main stories and Chrono Theatre diaries. This meta post is structured as story-specific sections, namely Godheim, Eden, and the modern world, so you can skip over the world(s) you haven't read yet. No Awakening spoilers, don't worry! ]

- ☽ -

Godheim: Archmage Clarence

First, let’s talk about Godheim Clarence. As the Archmage, he bears a heavy responsibility upon his shoulders – to oversee the Magi Tower, to fight the Glacial Butterflies, and, ultimately, to protect the country and its people.

In order to fulfil this duty that he has chosen to undertake, Clarence seals his heart and shuts others out. He denies his emotions, and resents himself for having these emotions, to the point that he disparages MC for “[acting] impetuously” and belittles her capabilities when she shows concern for Amelia’s wellbeing. Archmage Clarence’s impassivity is his shield against the emotions he views as a hindrance.

Yet he was not always this way. Clarence is a casualty of cruel circumstances, a tender soul torn apart by trauma. When MC is confronted with the truth of the mages’ magic, having witnessed a mage die before her very eyes, she notes that “[there] is no pain or compassion on Clarence’s face,” because “[this] is a sight he has seen all too many times before.” Decades of watching his fellow mages succumb to the Glacial Butterflies that nest inside them, and decades of having to end the lives of mutating mages under his purview, have conditioned Clarence into numbing his heart to such pain. How else could he have stayed sane, after a century of bearing witness to suffering wrought by his own hands?

Archmage Clarence’s disposition is initially described by MC as an “[icy] presence,” but this is the facade that he projects as a defence mechanism, not his genuine self. Clarence is so accustomed to the chill of the Glacial Butterflies within him that he has taken on the frost as a personality trait, believing that his frigidity defines him. He does not view himself as a human capable of warmth; instead, he thinks of himself as a mutant, as an icy monster.

Even so, Clarence cannot deny his innate inclination towards kindness. When he notices that Amelia isn’t feeling well, he tells her to sit in the carriage. When Amelia’s temperature drops, he casts a spell to warm the shivering child up, even as he grumbles that he’s wasting his time and magic. When Amelia’s death is imminent, he tries to send her off in the gentlest way possible, then grants her final wish by conjuring a connection to the water mirror. Clarence may insist that he does not care, but his actions reflect his compassion.

It is this very kindness that steers him towards a path of selfless sacrifice, for the sake of his country and its people. The life of a mage may have been forced upon him, by the man that gave a gravely injured child no other option but the potion that would transform him, yet Clarence learns to harness his power for good. He spends his youth eliminating Glacial Butterflies and protecting the village of the snow plains, and despite the harsh conditions of the path he now treads, he does not hold a grudge against the family that sold him off and thrived in the resulting profit. Instead, he returns to check on them from afar, and when an onslaught of Glacial Butterflies attack, he protects them with every last bit of energy within him.

Still, his family’s betrayal left an indelible mark on his psyche. Back when he’d been given the potion, he’d resolved to succumb to his injuries rather than drink it. Despite his instinctive desire to live, MC notes that his “will to live [had been] virtually non-existent,” because there is “[no] despair greater than being betrayed by your own family.” The young Clarence had not seen a reason to live, when his family had forsaken him. It is only when MC saves him, urging him to live on, that he resolves to survive and repay this debt. Each time MC encounters him in her voyage through time, he is on the verge of death, and each time, his dwindling will to live stems from his despair over those he could not save. What ultimately keeps him alive is the vow he swore to his saviour.

This characterisation is one that carries through his immortal lifespan. Clarence does not live for himself; he lives for others. Whether that means risking his life to defend a village, or sacrificing himself in a ritual to save the country’s inhabitants, the underlying premise is the same – Clarence lives for the person who saved him, and for the promise he made to them. He allows others to form negative opinions of him based on the assumptions they’ve made, in order to keep the secret of the ritual and the Glacial Butterflies from them, because their scorn towards him matters less than their safety. He closes himself off from others, never permitting them to reach out to him, because he cannot allow companionship and compassion to distract him from his purpose. He “[cannot] afford to be sentimental,” because he cannot have anyone or anything clouding his judgement. Better to be the enemy of the state that saves it, than the friend of the state that cannot do anything as it crumbles.

It is ironic, then, that Clarence’s devotion to his promise leads him from striving to live and fulfil it, to voluntarily dying for that same promise. His life, his existence itself, is secondary to the promise he has made. He will live to protect the world for his saviour, but if the only way to protect it is to die, then die he shall. Perhaps he views it as a penance of sorts, an atonement for the sins he’s committed. Perhaps he believes the new world would be better off without a monster like him.

For all his calculative callousness and stoic solitude, Clarence is deeply self-aware. Not only is he conscious of the suffering he inflicts and the ramifications of his actions, but he also ruminates upon his sins until they turn to guilt in his gut and self-loathing in the deepest recesses of his soul. He does not turn a blind eye to the pain he witnesses; instead, he looks it straight in the eye, internalises it, and forces himself to feel nothing at all.

Clarence may appear to have no qualms about exploiting people and reducing them to cogs in a plan greater than its constituent parts, but his interactions with Amelia prove otherwise. Right before he sends her off on what is meant to be a suicide mission, his carefully-crafted defenses slip, and he asks whether she hates him. Clarence believes that he has failed to live up to the Archmage’s title, that he has fallen short of being a “guiding force for all the mages” and a “protector.” He condemns himself for his callous strategies and merciless manipulation, since he has been treating people like chess pieces and “using them as [he sees] fit.” He disparages himself for “[standing] by on the sidelines, safe and sound.” He believes others hate him because he’s given them all the reasons to, because he deserves to be hated, because he, too, hates himself. All this while, he fails to recognise that he has taken on the greatest sacrifice of all – the burden of leadership, of decision-making, of being responsible for all the blood on his hands.

This downplaying of his own suffering, alongside his disregard of his own well-being, is what drives Clarence to self-sacrifice time and time again. When a theory about the Glacial Butterflies begins to take shape in his mind, he does not test it out on one of his mages, because he does not view them as expendable despite what he claims. Instead, he uses himself for his experiment, slicing his chest open and bearing the agonising pain in order to ascertain the truth of the magic within him.

On the verge of being overcome by the Glacial Butterflies, despite having prepared for this eventuality by shackling his limbs, he makes one last selfless request. “My Lord, you must kill me before I turn,” he entreats, willing to relinquish his own life for the safety of others. Even when Philip protects him from the Glacial Butterflies, refusing to kill him, Clarence believes that there is no place for him in the future that his Lord envisions.

Decades later, he still echoes this same sentiment. “There is no future without sacrifice,” he tells Lars, and he does not see himself as part of that future, does not see himself as deserving of that future. Archmage Clarence thinks of himself as a monster, not a man, and a monster is better off dead than alive.

It is a revelation, to him, that Amelia does not hate him. MC does not hate him. Lars, Alkaid, the mages that carry on the legacy of the Magi Tower, none of them hate him. They do not view him as a monster; they view him as a martyr, a protector, a saviour. Someone who did his best, and gave his all. Archmage Clarence leaves behind a legacy through his sacrifice, spurred by the human heart he still harbours deep within.

- ☽ -

Eden: Falcon Clarence

Next, we have the Falcon Clarence of Eden. The lone ranger of the desert, the mercenary that eliminates Sandswimmers with impeccable precision and works with no one else.

“A bait that only knows how to cry is a burden,” his mentor tells him, and Clarence internalises that into his cognitive framework and guiding compass. It is “the first lesson Liore taught [him];” that he must prove his worth in order to live. His scent lures the Sandswimmers to him, and so he must make himself useful by seeking out danger.

Valued only for his utility as bait, Clarence learns that his worth is determined by his fighting skills. With no other way to survive, he becomes a NEOS by fusing Sandswimmer gems into his body. Clarence pays the price of this acquired power through the gradual erosion of his memories, but that is far from the only thing he has lost. His decision to accept the integration of these foreign, beastly objects into his body has changed him irrevocably. He thinks of himself not as a human, but as a mutant being only one step away from becoming a monstrous Lost. Still, he endeavours to “remember [his] humanity,” because he refuses to become a “mere weapon [that knows] nothing but destruction.” Falcon Clarence understands that he is, by definition, a monster, but he refuses to relinquish the last shreds of his humanity.

In his first encounter with MC, he is rational and pragmatic as always, scrutinising her motives and seeing no reason to work together. Years of solitude, with no one else to depend on, have honed Clarence’s reflexes into an “instinct for self-defence.” Yet his reaction to MC’s request reveals that his solitude has been shaped by circumstance, not entirely by choice. When MC explains her reason for seeking out Eden, even though it does not sound particularly convincing, Clarence accepts it as sufficient and agrees to lead the way. Despite the potential risk of allowing a stranger close, he offers MC a ride on his motorcycle. Subsequently, he continues to help her out, defending the children’s shelter and giving her the gems he’d collected, even as he refuses to follow her any further.

Falcon Clarence claims that he works alone, but everything he does is for the sake of protecting others. He fights in the desert to protect the shelters from Sandswimmers, and he fights in Eden to protect Lin and the other NEOS from the Lost. He brings MC to the NEOS Association, so that she can rest for a night and learn essential skills from Lin. He knows that the night is dangerous, so despite his own preference for working alone, he ensures that MC has a community of protection around her.

Even as he dismisses everything and everyone else as burdens, his actions speak otherwise. Despite having met MC for only a single day, he offers his assistance to her time and time again, from rides on his motorcycle to filling water bottles with her. He could easily leave her to fend for herself, but he chooses not to leave her behind even when that would be the easier way out.

Perhaps the reason Clarence refuses to work with other people is that he’s afraid. Afraid of dragging them down, afraid of becoming their burden. He fears that history will repeat itself. He cannot bear to lose someone he cares for again, so he refrains from caring about anyone at all. Each time Clarence chastises others for being a hindrance, he is reproaching his past self for his inadequacy. Each time he risks his life to protect others, he is atoning for his failure to save his mentor.

MC says that she understands how Clarence feels, because “acting alone means nobody will be hurt because of [him].” In a way, acting alone also protects himself from being hurt. It is a defence mechanism born from his past, when he had to “learn to accept [his] losses” from a young age. He couldn’t afford to grieve Liore for long, not with the constant threat of the Sandswimmers, and so he could do nothing else but “live on with what memories [he] had left.” He’d forced himself to harden his heart to his emotions, but he could not suppress them entirely.

Clarence blames his moment of weakness, of emotional folly, for causing Liore’s death. It was her humanity, even in her final moments as a Lost, that held her back from killing him and caused her to die. He regrets his choice to this day, and perhaps it is this survivor’s guilt that pushes him to fight harder until he reaches the brink.

It is this same guilt, alongside his resolve to not lose anyone else he cares for, that drives him towards self-sacrifice. When he realises that MC needs a soul stone – his soul stone – to open the door within Central Control, he unflinchingly raises his gun to his head, as if it were the natural and logical decision to make. He is ready to offer his life without a moment’s hesitation, because that is the utility he can offer in this moment, in order to keep MC safe and help her achieve her goal. She has given him a reason to fight, and he will die trying to fulfil it.

Ultimately, it is his encounter with MC – and the companionship which blooms from it – that saves him. Without demanding anything in return, she cries for his pain, fights by his side, and shoulders his burdens with him. Clarence doubts his humanity, even as he holds fast to it, since he is all too cognisant of the monstrous traits within. In turn, MC’s unwavering trust reaffirms the humanity within him, reminding him that he is worthy of living.

Falcon Clarence may not be fully human on a biological level, and he may still succumb to the effects of the monsters within him from time to time, but he has managed to preserve his heart and his humanity. His tale is one of healing, of opening up, and of learning to value himself for who he is and not what he can do.

- ☽ -

Modern World: Clarence

Finally, let’s circle back to modern-day Clarence. At first glance, he’s the calm, collected, and capable Student Council president, who always seems to have affairs in order and circumstances under control.

Then, in his Chrono Theatre diary entries, we learn that he had a psychiatrist observing him from a young age, due to his gifted aptitude and exceptional intelligence beyond that of his peers. This revelation sparked a discussion in the LBC discord server, which spurred this message of mine that then became the basis for this meta post:

Clarence is well-versed in decorum, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it comes naturally to him. It’s likely that he learned social etiquette by picking it up from observing how other people behave, so he knows the appropriate responses to give and the socially-acceptable ways to carry himself. However, because this social understanding is not an innate trait but a learned one, there are often times when he doesn’t recognise the need for social niceties, and instead his instinctual response – founded on his internal logic – comes through.

One example of this can be found as early as his second interaction with MC, after she paints an artwork of him:

The polite thing to do would be to express interest in or appreciation of the finished product, regardless of one’s actual feelings towards it. However, Clarence “doesn’t show the slightest interest” in MC’s painting. Does this mean that he doesn’t care for it, and doesn’t see the need to put on a pretence? Quite the contrary. Instead, it’s because he thinks he doesn’t have anything useful to offer in response, and thus he stays silent.

Here, we see a disconnect between how Clarence understands the world, and how other people tend to view it. While most people would appreciate receiving praise or validation, Clarence doesn’t particularly see the need to receive either, and thus doesn’t immediately think of giving them to others. Rather, he takes a more pragmatic approach, focusing on utility; a piece of work deserves feedback for the effort poured into it. However, as a law major, he does not have sufficient knowledge or expertise regarding art. As such, he believes that his feedback would not be useful, and thus it is better not to say anything at all.

This ties into how Clarence views himself as his roles, and the functions he can serve. He understands that he has worth, but he evaluates this worth through his services as the Student Council president, or his contributions as a law intern. When he assists others, he doesn’t think of it as going out of his way to help them; instead, he views it as part of his rightful duty.

As a result, Clarence doesn’t view himself as simply “Clarence.” Rather, he thinks of himself as Clarence, the Student Council president; Clarence, an upperclassman; Clarence, a friend. If he can fulfil someone’s needs through a role that he holds, he will do it, even at the expense of himself.

We see this most prominently in Clarence’s “Break Time” R card story:

When the senior who’s supposed to interpret for an academic speaker falls ill and fails to attend, Clarence steps up to fill their shoes last-minute. William notes that Clarence can be counted on to show up whenever and wherever he’s needed, and MC agrees that he’s “the only one who’s up to the task.”

However, what most people don’t recognise are the sheer lengths Clarence will go to in order to fulfil his duties. On top of his regular responsibilities, filling in for the interpreter caused Clarence to “[burn] the midnight oil” preparing for the speech, and taking care of the sick speaker meant that Clarence could not sleep for two days. He doesn’t recognise that he’s constantly going above and beyond, because to him it’s a given, but he is in fact pushing himself past his limits, and past the line that most people would draw.

It’s interesting to examine MC’s thoughts here, because she interprets Clarence’s willingness to take a nap as a rational understanding that he needs to rest in order to keep functioning. However, this only happens after MC coaxes him into taking a break. If she hadn’t intervened, Clarence would have continued pushing himself until he completed his task – he was already at “the brink of collapse,” and he “only agreed to sleep after [MC] practically begged him to.” Clarence prioritises his responsibilities to the point that he does not recognise his own needs, and thus neglects to take care of himself.

Although modern Clarence doesn’t think of himself as different, or as anything less than a person, it’s evident that he views himself as the roles he fulfils rather than simply as who he is. In turn, this mindset is reflected in his behaviour, which then shapes other people’s perceptions of him. This is how Clarence becomes characterised as the aloof and intimidating Student Council president in the students’ eyes, even though he cares so deeply and helps out so much; most people are unable to look deeper and see Clarence as the person that he is, because he perceives and presents himself through the lens of his roles.

As such, other people often view Clarence as different from themselves – as if he’s operating on a different wavelength, or existing on a separate plane entirely. Modern Clarence’s genius sets him apart from his peers, but more than that, his perspective of himself winds up alienating himself from other people. Clarence views himself as like others, but others view him as unlike them. He blends in well enough, but he doesn’t quite fit in; he has a place in society, but he doesn’t quite belong.

- ☽ -

Clarence, across time and space

Out of all the Clarences thus far, modern Clarence is perhaps the most well-adjusted, and this reflects the importance of having a support system. Godheim Clarence and Eden Clarence were isolated from a young age and survived alone throughout most of their lives, whereas modern Clarence had family and friends around him. He may not have had the most conventional childhood, but he grew up with his older sister Jaclyn and his close friend Luca, and he also had his psychiatrist Ford observing and monitoring his development. Subsequently, after he enters St Shelter Academia, he gains a circle of friends he can rely on, such as William, O’Connor, and, of course, MC.

Expanding upon Clarence’s St Shelter Academia bonds, we see that Clarence has people around him who genuinely like him for who he is, and are willing to support him unconditionally. O’Connor affectionately refers to Clarence with a nickname – “Shi-kun” in the Japanese voiceover, or “Little Si Lan” in the Chinese one – and for all his devious teasing, it’s clear he looks out for his Student Council successor. As for William, he may whine about Clarence’s by-the-book discipline, but his clumsiness and complaints do not preclude him from helping out when needed. For all that Clarence often chastises William, he still relies on him to assist with Student Council matters, and he knows William is someone he can trust.

Compared to these two, MC is a relatively newer connection, but her bond with Clarence runs deep. Right off the bat, she’s able to meet him on his level and banter with him, and he lets down his guard enough to subtly tease her for trying to trick him. As their relationship develops, Clarence grows to trust her, sharing his inner thoughts and admitting his vulnerabilities. MC is a safe haven for him, and she understands him on a level deeper than most. While the other students may fear Clarence for his aloof disposition, or hesitate to approach him due to his detached rationality, MC sees the earnest sincerity woven into his actions and the warmth laced through his words. Others may think of him as an unfeeling robot or a terrifying monster, but MC loves him for the human that he is.

There’s a subtle but interesting juxtaposition here, in which Godheim Clarence and Eden Clarence – both possessing monstrous mutations within them – view themselves as monsters while most others do not, whereas modern Clarence – wholly human – views himself as human while most others do not. All three Clarences are keenly aware of what constitutes them, allowing this biological understanding to shape their perception of themselves, but they do not recognise that their actions paint a different picture to others.

Regardless of the world he inhabits, Clarence constantly straddles the line between man and monster. His selfless nature and dutiful diligence often lead him to self-sacrifice and superhuman feats, creating the illusion of a monster – but beneath this facade lies, always, the heart of a human.

- ☽ -

thank you for reading!♡

if you have any thoughts about this meta post, i'd love to hear them! responses are always welcome, and my ask box is open~

up next: android clarence, and the inevitability of tragedy. where is the line between human and machine? stay tuned for my thoughts on clarence's awakening main story!

#lovebrush chronicles meta #lovebrush chronicles #for all time #lbc #lbc spoilers #clarence clayden #lbc clarence #lovebrush clarence #godheim clarence #eden clarence #modern clarence #sol's meta musings

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Don't Speak 39

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: more of our lovely dovely.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The message pops up just as you're stuck in a whirlwind. All day you’ve been twitching in anxiety. Or anticipation? You wouldn’t say you’re excited but you should be, right?

Andy’s text is simple. ‘I hope you’re ready’.

Are you?

You haven’t forgotten the conversation. Not his Friday surprise or his rejection. You’re still bitter about his response to Amber, though you know you shouldn’t be. He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes either. Still, this is his house.

Maybe you could go to Amber?

That thought quickly flits away as another message bings on the tablet. ‘Turning the corner’.

Shoot. You send a thumbs up and close the tablet. You place it on the coffee table and look down at yourself. You only got as far as your skirt. Your shirt drapes over the armrest of the chair but you hadn’t found the last of your courage.

You sway a little. You’re tired. That swimming sensation itches behind your eyes and swirls in your head. You shake it away but that only seems to make it worse.

You have to hurry. You promised. The last thing you want to do is let Andy down again. Or anyone.

You shimmy out of the skirt and let your panties roll down with it. Clumsily you toss the clothes into the seat of the chair. You struggle to unhook your bra, fingers fumbling, your nerves bouncing off each other. It feels so naughty, even if Andy says it’s okay.

Naked, you shiver and rub your arms. You hear him in the driveway. The glimpse of glistening white through the window prickles your skin. It’s getting colder by the day and last night, the snow began. You always loved the winter but this year, it feels so hollow.

Or maybe you’re just tired. You haven’t been sleeping well. Not at all, really. You just lay awake and think. You think too much. Stop it.

You peek around the wall into the entryway as you listen to the muffled steps outside. Andy kicks beside the door, dusting off his boots, as the latch turns back. You flinch as he enters, his shoulders powdered with snow and his hair sparkling with melting flakes. His cheeks are rosy above his thick beard.

He looks around, brow furrowed, until he finds you. The crease in his forehead softens as he sighs out the tension. You give a sheepish smile that ends in the gnawing of your lower lip.

“What are you doing hiding?” He puts his bag down on the bench.

You gulp as he faces you fully, stretching his arms out in a subtle gesture. Oh, yeah. You remember everything he said. Another chill passes through you as you force yourself out from behind the plaster shield.

He growls as he takes you in completely. You want to cover your nipples as they go pert with the cold he let in, or cross a leg over your little vee of hair. You go to him, swallowing a squeak as he purrs and runs his hand down your side. His fingertips are icy too.

“You gonna warm me up?” He hums. He’s delighting in this, and in a way, his happiness sparks your own. Knowing he’s content means you’re doing well.

“Yes… honey,” you choke out. Sometimes you still forget to say it.

You touch the lapels of his coat and he groans. He feels bigger then. Dressed in all those layers as you stand before him, stripped down and exposed. You stand on your tiptoes as you undo his top button and begin the descent, plucking each open with shaky fingers.

He helps shrug off the heavy wool and as you turn to hang it, he touches your bottom. He lets out another gritty noise but restrains himself. You get down to help him out of his boots next, bending over as he tickles along your naked back. His hand hovers behind your head.

“Mmm, I like you like that,” he taunts. Your lashes flick at the suggestion and for a moment, you fear he might latch on and keep you there. His hand trails across your shoulder and you stand straight. “Baby, it’s all you tonight. I want you to take control. You lead me.”

You stare at him, stunned. You don’t know what to do. Even if you’ve done so much with him. He’s always guiding you, always moving you along.

“You know what to do, honey,” he coaxes, “I’m all yours.”

You might not entirely know what to do, but you know what he wants. You push his suit jacket off as you feel his intent gaze on your every move. His hands wander with his gaze, drinking you in as you repress a shudder.

You tug at his tie cluelessly, choking him before he stops you with a chuckle. He loosens it himself and pulls it free. He throws it carelessly to the floor amidst the rest of his clothing. You pause for a moment; you’re going to be the one cleaning that up.

You shake away that thought and carry on. You feel him tremble as you unbutton his shirt. Your fingers struggling and brushing his skin. He rubs your arms as he takes a deep breath while you tug free the tails of his shirt from his pants. He stops you and brings your hands to his chest, pressing them flat.

“Slow,” he coos, “you don’t have to rush.”

You feel his firm muscle and the soft hair across it. He’s warm but you find little comfort in that. The heat radiating off of him is suffocating. You thought it would be easier by now.

You let your hands flutter down along his stomach, touching until he squirms. You follow his reaction as your own remains unsparked. Why isn’t this doing anything for you? With that toy, alone, you were almost melting. And at the thought of Dr. Kemp…

No. No. You can be good. It will work. The more you do it, the more you’ll like it.

You add Andy’s shirt to the heap and unbuckle his belt. You sense his excitement as it tightens in the bottom of his stomach. His hot breath plumes over you as you pull at his fly. You nearly break the zipper before you part the teeth. His pants fall down his legs and he steps out of the rumpled fabric.

You grab his hand and draw him further inside. He follows eagerly. Your stomach clenches, almost sickeningly. It’s probably just because you haven’t eaten since… whenever.

You glance over your shoulders. The couch… That night when it all happened. That was where it started. You can make it up right now.

You take him to the couch and he stands before it, almost proudly as you let him go. There’s a brief stalemate as you hesitate and he waits. He looms, expectantly. No stopping now.

You slide your fingers along this thick band of his briefs and pull on the elastic. He’s hard already so you have to angle around him. Your knuckles brush him and he twitches. You just tell yourself to keep going.

He steps out of his underwear as you lean back on one heel. He smirks as you twiddle your fingers. You look around and wet your dry lips.

“How do you want me?” He asks, voice brimming with barely restrained excitement.

You can only point to the couch. He sits, almost dropping down in his eagerness. He lifts a foot at a time to strip off the socks you missed.

“Should I lay down?” he prompts.

You nod.

He reclines, a long sigh escaping him as he stretches out. He props his shoulders up against the armrest and folds his arms behind his head. His dick bobs up and down as you choke out tiny breaths.

You resist the fantasy brewing at the back of your head. How often in your life did you build fantasies that could never be? Dr. Kemp wouldn’t like that. Dr. Kemp! You need to stop thinking of him.

Yet, you do. You don’t see the living room or the gray couch, you see the brown leather and smell the citrusy edge of his cologne. You come forward, in a parallel world, and climb up onto the couch. As you touch him, he shivers and groans.

When you stroke Andy, your eyes meet him but don’t see him. You’re met with another shade of iris, rich and aquamarine, gentle and affectionate. You’re almost delirious as your mind takes over, painting over the canvas with a fresh coat, a prettier coat.

It’s Steve beneath you as you swing your leg over the thick thighs. It’s him groaning and grunting as you play with him, shyly at first, then more firmly. You grip him tighter, wanting to feel him, wanting more.

A hand on your hip urges you on. You raise yourself on your knees and angle the swollen tips against your cunt. You’re wet. You could cry out in relief. You’re actually wet. But as you glide down onto the thick length, the illusion shatters.

You squeak as Andy stretches you. As you come down, he slides deeper than he ever has. The dull pain is heavy and horrible. You try to push off of him but his hands quickly grab your hips and hold you down. He wiggles his pelvis, searching for the limit.

“Ah, dove,” he moans and teethes his lip.

You slap your hands on his chest and murmur. You hang your head as you try to still him. Stop, stop, it hurts. Your pleas go unspoken as you curl your nails into his muscle. It only seems to encourage him as he tilts your hips for you.

He puts you into a rhythm. A slow tempo that has you rolling your hips, your clit rubbing against his pelvis hotly. Your touch slips up his shoulders and along his arms. You grip his biceps as you quiver and squeeze tight, gnashing your teeth at the fullness thrumming in you.

You heave in pain as it ripples down your thighs. Your spine aches, ringing with each tilts of your pelvis, pulsing up to your shoulders and down your limbs. You don’t like it.

It’s too much but you want to stop. You know you can’t. You know if you do, it will happen again. You’ll hurt him, in that moment, you really want to hurt him. You want to beat your fists on his chest and make him stop.

But you don’t. You follow the pace he sets. When he urges you on, you go faster, when he squeezes just so, you slow. You keep your eyes sealed but the tears trickle free. You sniffle as the hot streams stain your cheeks.

He brings a hand up to cradle your face, “honey, what’s wrong?” He huffs, “why are you crying?”

You shake your head and suck in your lower lip. You push his hand away from your face and keep your chin down. You twine your fingers through his as you clutch him tightly.

The world behind your eyelids shifts again. The timbre of his grunts deepen, his muscles thicken just a little, and the tension lessens just a touch. Just enough to be bearable.

In your head, the leather is sticky under your knees, the air is damp with your breath, mingling with Steve’s as he puffs up at you. His voice rolls in you, “you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you babble, “yes…”

“Yeah, you’re a very good girl. Look at you being so good,” he growls.

“Yes, yes,” you nearly chant, your body driven by the fuzzy pleasure blooming inside of you. “Yes,” you buck your hips wildly, chasing the fiery release, “yes, yes, yes…”

You drone on, head lolling as you surrender to the carnal need. That desperate want. You shrilly cry out as the friction in your clit turns electric and zaps up your back. You shake and cross your arms over your chest, panting and puffing as you reach the apex of your ecstasy.

“Yes, yes, oh baby,” Andy’s groans shatters your escape.

You blink and see the world as it is. The tendons in his neck constrict and he juts his chin out. He moves you to his whim, all control stolen back as he rocks you against him. He has a hand on your ass, the other locked around your hip.

He snarls as he cums, spasming as you feel his release. He fills you with his delight as you barely keep yourself aloft. You brace yourself against his stomach as he slows to a lazy rock.

Your lashes flick as your head bobbles. The edges of your vision are hazy and soft, your head is throbbing, and your body is hollow and weak. Suddenly, you feel so very tired.

You let your arms fold and fall forward against Andy. You close your eyes, hiding in the darkness as your head rests on his shoulder. His heartbeat beats against you as your own feels sluggishly slow.

Your yawns and sink against him. You’re paralysed as the fatigue consumes you. You couldn’t move if you tried. It isn’t a choice, your body is shutting down. You hear him calling for you but you don’t care

You want to sleep. Sleep means you don’t have to think. It means you don’t have to feel.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #don't speak #defending jacob #series #au #library au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #steve kemp #fresh

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respectthepetty · 5 months

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Background Noise in 7 Days Before Valentine

7 Days Before Valentine is giving me The Luminous Solution vibes, and that is not a good thing, but visually? It's serving!

The color coding already told us that our protagonist, Sunshine, is the devil (read: he sucks).

He was filming an ad for a fragrance called Devil with a K-pop idol named Jeff (no comment), and he was playing Mephistopheles, a devil who sold his soul for power.

When he left the studio, he exited out of a red door (hell).

He noticed a girl falling (or even pushed her) but focused on texting instead, and ended his message with a devil emoji. 😈

And the scene ended with the girl on the floor as he walked away.

It started to rain as Sunshine's boyfriend, Rain, waited for him.

When Sunshine entered the shop, all the umbrellas were black.

But when he exited, all of the umbrellas were red and the shot was slightly tilted.

In the shop, the owner warned him that he was being careless about love and not putting the time and effort into it, which Sunshine dismissed. The owner finally gave him a flower that was "big enough to stand the Rain."

And the assistant emphasized that the flower, which he named "Marie" (like the mother of all good guys?), loves "Rain" before the owner told Sunshine that "Flowers get you high, but liquor makes you see the truth."

Sunshine showed up to the restaurant in his red jacket with the devil horns on and offered Rain the flower and some of the perfume, but Rain is allergic to it. Sunshine told Rain he bought them tickets to Japan so they could celebrate in the snow. (When hell freezes over, I guess?)

Therefore, Rain understandably broke up with Sunshine at a place called "The End of the Road"

Rain told Sunshine that he is condescending, immature, and selfish, and left him for a college student named Air (like a breath of fresh air)

Rain owns a cafe called Rainmaker, and all of his employees are in love with him. *cue early 2000s rap song about making it rain*

This is that Luminous Solution vibe. If you know, you know, and if you don't, be thankful.

Sunshine returned to the shop where the owner yelled at him about balance, and told him that two opposites can exist with compromise, like Sun and Rain. Sunshine was not pleased.

And this sign doesn't make sense to me.

Sunshine put on the horns again, and we got several shots like this as if the devil was approaching because of it.

When Sunshine entered his apartment, he was the center of the universe.

He admired himself with the horns.

But once he took them off, he began to yell. Each time he had the horns on this episode, he was more comfortable and calm. He shouted that he would not accept his fate.

And that's when the Grim Reaper appeared. He stated he was between good and bad, here and there, the past and the future, but he showed up in white and the cool light, called himself a Cupid Reaper, and told Sun to call him Q.

As he moved through Sun's apartment, the lighting became warmer, and he stopped between the red lamp and the sunshine-like clock.

The actors on the TV are the shop owner and assistant.

And the owner did a gesture to show Sun it was real at the exact time Q told Sun it was real. Then, the TV immediately cut off.

Sun's entire apartment is a battle between reality and an allusion, good and evil, the dark and the light, the right and the wrong choice with Q standing in the middle. He offered Sun a choice, but told Sun to really think about it, logically.

Yet Sun chose to go out into the darkness to make his decision.

And he chose power.

He is Mephistopheles, the devil who sold his soul for power.

#7 days before valentine #episode 1 #background noise #the colors mean things #and it means Sun is the devil #these names are too on the nose #I didn't like the episode until Q showed up #but the visuals were pleasing

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lnkedmyheart · 1 year

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Harukawa didn't just give us Snow White soukoku with Dazai leaning over the apple and Chuuya in the back with what looks like a dragon's skeleton in the front to reference the Snow White (and Sleeping Beauty) allusion of Dead Apple.

We also got Akutagawa and Atsushi on the other side with the apple in a glass case very similar to the rose in the glass case in Beauty and the Beast with Aku standing over it. Bonus points because either can be the beast in this scenario.

#soukoku #shin soukoku #back on my dumb shit #yes I know that's an apple and not a rose #I don't care

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letgomaggie · 11 months

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We know P’Aof is a creative genius and his use of literary references are very purposeful and never in vain. I was struggling to see the point of using something like Snow White -- a very happy fairytale -- as a play reference, especially against ATOTS, which is intertextual and meta and lines up so well. Of course, of course it wouldn’t be that easy right? So, I have a few thoughts on how the Snow White allusion will play out.

1. The first and most obvious one to me was about, again, perspective. (It’s always perspective with P’Aof I swear). We have with us yet again, two tales, and two perspectives. One is a classic Western tale that’s always been up for revision. The other is a native text, that ponders the act of revision and retelling itself.

I think a lot of this is referential to their futures and their present. @chickenstrangers talks about queer temporality and queer futurity here. Let’s remember that the events of BBS EP 12 are still in the future - yet to happen - for OS2 PatPran. We know the destination - and this is what makes this version very obviously a happy story. But Pat and Pran are still walking the path to this destination. I think we’re seeing them at a point in their relationship where they are not in complete sync with each other. They’re still walking the same road, they’re just not in step with each other. And that’s okay!

It’s also important to look at who is bringing forth what to the table. The engineering faculty is the one which has chosen Snow White. Architecture is choosing ATOTS. One is Western, far removed from Pat and Pran’s lived realities -- it is instead a dream, a fairytale. It’s also bold about love, where differences exist but love exists alongside it. The Prince and the Princess didn’t have to fight with the world to love each other, they only had to find their way to each other. (I’m recalling Pat’s realisations about his feelings for Pran, the blind optimism he brought to the table, the way he kissed Pran and felt good vs the way Pran approached the kiss -- with despair, sadness, guilt, fear. Please look at this wonderful exploration of the kiss here.) Pat was in a romcom! His optimism bleeds through -- he still wants to be able to love Pran openly, he’s got a charade going -- the charade of death! Snow White! -- but he’s hopeful of living without the charade in the future. (look here as well!) For Pran, he’s very much living in the present. ATOTS is a real, lived story of queer love and struggle. He too wants to live without the charade, but for him, the nuances of the struggle are much more pronounced.

One is an old story, and its simply a story. One is a new tale and its a lived reality at that. We’re exploring hopes and dreams in the face of reality and imagination baby! Pat and Pran want to chart their own course, and they need to find a way to blend these two outlooks together.

They’re both trying to explore the question of “If they can, why can’t we?” but they’re looking for hope in different places. Considering the open ending of the BBS storyline, and the fact that one of them goes abroad while the other stays with his family business -- the future they end up choosing is the one their partner looked at first. They’re still learning from each other, and they continue to grow together.

P’Aof, let me kiss your forehead PLEASE.

2. We’re addressing underlying themes of patriarchy! We know that P’Aof’s shows are genre aware as well as time aware. We also know that retellings for him are heavily about subversion, among other things. I’m focusing on the subversion right now because it’s not just any story -- Its Snow White, a classic Western fairy tale, that is well known for its revisionist retellings! Retellings and fairytales (especially the Grimm’s) go hand in hand. Retellings are, in the postmodern context, about unmasking the ideologies inherent in the story and then flipping it.

Early on, we establish that Pat is the so called prince and Pran is the so called princess in need of rescue. Or is it? Pran has been the one leading Pat this time on divergent and creative thinking. It’s Pran who is taking risks, doing things on his, going after what he wants. It’s also Pran who gets lost (with Tian) and needs rescuing. Pat is part of the rescue effort. But who ends up rescuing whom?

A sidenote to this point: Pran is also hurt and exploring his independence from Pat while being in a relationship. The fight they have seems petty on the outside and they are certainly mature enough to try and find a way of communication that best fits them i.e. the bet but Pat is the one who needs to apologize and relearn this time. It is clear that there is a modicum of hurt on both ends. They are trying to solve their concerns on their own, as well as together, as well as with the help of others. So, who is rescuing whom and where? Is it Pat rescuing Pran? Is it Pran rescuing Pat? Is it Pran rescuing Tian? Or is it Phupha rescuing Pat? Or is it any other way around? We don’t know yet, but the whole tiger thing makes me think this will definitely be alluded to, if not addressed.

3. Mirrors! Mirrors in older gays! Mirroring each other stories!

The first mirror is again, related to perspective. Pran is the one showing Pat how to look at the wooden bench as a mirror for the Snow White adaptation. I also read it as Pran holding up the mirror of reality for Pat -- atleast, a foreshadowing of this, because Pat wants to be open and Pran is more focused on the reality of it all. That they address this in a fantasy situation where anything can veritably happen is so interesting because I think it hints at how BBS EP 12 ended: the future they live there is still happy, and its all a lot of careful planning. Planning, I think, that took place in the time period we see in OS2. They’re figuring it out, laying all the what ifs out and seeing how it goes.

But they’re still young, and they’re still kids, so Pran gives into a little pettiness and leaves Pat at the bus stop. Pat follows anyways.

Onto Phupha and Tian: they’re messy y’all. They’re able to see each other in Pat and Pran, and this has been discussed elsewhere.

Here’s a few posts that examine mirroring/elements of it in the OS2 episodes: here, here, here. (These are the three that stood out to me the most but there’s a few more out there.)

Overall, we have been able to see these two episodes address crossovers, the metatextuality of ATOTS, and parallelism across the two shows - of each other AND of themselves.

Phupha - Pat and Tian - Pran is genius mirroring in my opinion, and the fact that they examine peril in these pairings is going to be interesting.

The most important thing jumping out to me is the whole: I see him in you but I also see myself in you. I’ve been here before. I want to be where you are. Literally, pick one of the four and they fit all of these simultaneously. It’s so potent, I cannot shake the fact that this is really going to be super important soon.

I’m not expounding too much on mirroring right now because we have two episodes more to go, and I have also linked all the places this has already been touched upon. We must wait for further insights.

4. The setting. We move from the city to the forest. The city is where ATOTS wants to be. The forest is where BBS wants to be. One show desperately wants to address reality and move out of the liminal space it exists in (ATOTS). The other has been grappling with reality for so long that it seeks the safety of the forest, where reality cannot touch them if they don’t want it to (BBS). BOTH shows have couples that are seeking to strike a balance in their relationships.

Although we are yet to see Phupha and Tian come down from the mountain, the trailer for OS2 seemed to imply they will. With BBS, we have seen them move already. Even though they are seeking the independence the setting provides them with, let’s also remember that Pran is trying to put on a show based in lived reality. And so, they continue to call each other buddy here -- they can’t shake it off. Even in front of an older queer couple -- who they know have seen their fair share of trials and tribulations and will be safe around -- they keep to their reality. I think an echo (mirroring!) may happen with Phupha and Tian when they descend the mountain.

Other implications of the forest include: isolation, independence, freedom and fear. The City vs The Forest in OS2 is simply about finding your place in the world. Snow White moves from her life of luxury to a life of daily toil that she does not resent. She moves back to royalty at the end of her story, but her stay with the dwarfs was formative for her. BBS x ATOTS x OS2 is investigating movement and change.

Tian has made the choice to move from his life of luxury to the forest with Phupha and its not a choice he regrets. That’s been made clear for us. He however, does wish to strike a balance. He is okay with new things in a way Phupha is not. Phupha finds the city a place he does not know his place in. He’s afraid of what it means to not have his duty define him first and so he sticks to what is familiar to him. (hmm who else do we see this in, I wonder.) Pran and Pat are living in a glass closet and its stifling. Each time they try to ‘escape’, its to places that are very far removed from their reality, and where they can only be guests. They yearn for the freedom these places -- Zero Waste Village, Chiang Mai -- provide. Pat immediately wants to recreate the honeymoon, and he goes so far as to pitch a tent in their house to bring in a sense of that freedom. He’s thinking about their time in the Zero Waste Village as an ideal he would like to have for them permanently. Pran is not comfortable evading reality. He’s scared of what the relationship might do to everything else that he is and has. (Ahem, this is such a clean mirror guys, what did they use to get this shine?) I can continue to ramble about fear of loss of control, what does freedom really mean, change and adjustment in relationships, growth etc. etc. but I want to see what P’Aof and co have in store for us.

5. Someone gets injured. They have to, its implied heavily and also -- Snow White. It could be literally any of the four or it could be the kid. The whole rescue thing is also about returning from the point of no return. (Death in Snow White, I don’t know what in OS2?) A little bit more on the death motif here by @chickenstrangers .This is also in conjunction to my point on who saves whom (point 2). This is one I really think the next two episodes will shed better light on, so I’m simply jotting it down here and hoping for the best.

Anyways, this was me holding a sermon in the town square, thank you for listening. Come Wednesday, P’Aof and co will come strolling in to the square, drinks in hand, and say “see you looking, catch it, here’s your cola” and dump all their soda all over me. And you know what? I will welcome it.

A small biblio of bad buddy meta and other posts I have been reading and thinking about, and posts I think in some way or another talk about the things I have mentioned here:

Growth and Aging of Queer Relationships by @moonlitfantasyblr and @waitmyturtles

They Love Each Other! by @gracefulnosplinters

Nong Nao Mask by @lurkingshan

A Full Circle by @jemmo

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kellyvela · 7 months

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Hi! Sorry if you've been asked this before, I just can't find anything. Do you know if George has ever talked or has been asked about joneris in the past? I only know about that instance in which he asked about whether Jon and Dany would fight or fuck, but I wonder if he has ever talked more about them as a romantic option.

Hello Anon:

I remember Kit Harington being asked about whether Jon and Dany would fight or fuck . . . . Did they ask GRRM the same? 😂 If you have a link, please send that to me 🙏

Jon (ice) and Dany (fire) as a romantic couple is mostly a fan theory, a very popular one, and the show made it even more popular just to destroy it in the very end, by one half of the ship (ice) killing the other (fire) . . . .

Now, as far as I know, GRRM never said anything about Jon and Dany as a romantic couple. He mostly avoid the question or make it about politics . . . . But there is certain secondary source that claims GRRM told him that the meeting of Jon and his aunt is the point of the story . . . .

Let's see:

[Future meeting between Daenerys and Jon Snow?] GRRM: Keep reading [Source]

~~~

“Some people I met thought we have to find the story’s through line. Who’s the important character? Somebody thought that Dany’s the important character – cut away everybody else, tell the story of Dany. Or Jon Snow. Those were the two most popular characters to build everything around, except you’re losing 90 percent of the story”.

—Rollingstone 2014

~~~

“I had a number of meetings long before David and Dan, with people who said this is the next Lord of the Rings franchise. But they couldn’t get a handle on the size of the material, the very thing that I set out to do. I had all these meetings saying, “There’s too many characters, it’s too big — Jon Snow is the central character. We’ll eliminate all the other characters and we’ll make it about Jon Snow.” Or “Daenerys is the central character. We’ll eliminate everyone else and make the movie about Daenerys.” And I turned down all those deals”.

—Time Magazine 2017

~~~

Do you already know where certain events will lead the Game of Thrones story? Like the relationship between Daenerys and Jon Snow, for example? GRRM: That, I know it. And for many years. But of course, I will not reveal anything to you, it will be necessary to wait for the books. Fire and Blood is a long time before the tomes of the Game of Thrones saga, even if the most attentive readers will find some omens, allusions to subsequent events. But it's no more allusive to Jon Snow or Daenerys than a book about Abraham Lincoln to the Trump administration. —Society Magazine Interview [https://www2.lekiosk.com/fr/publication/society/21423629█ 201812 Society Magazine.pdf]

~~~

About the ice and fire thing that many people believe represents Jon and his aunt, that's a pretty cursory interpretation, not only because GRRM himself said the White Walkers are the ice and aunty and her pets are the fire, but he also said that the title's meaning has many layers, a primary, a secondary, a tertiary meaning, etc. At most, when someone asked about Jon and aunty being the characters most associated with those elements, GRRM said that that was a way to interpret it.

Ice and fire are not meant to be lovers, ice and fire are meant to clash! Read more about it here:

Also take note that GRRM still named the series A Song of Ice and Fire in the so called original outline, but Jon and his aunt was completely nonexistent in his plans. Doesn’t that kind of kill that whole ice and fire argument? Read more about it here:

And of course the Jon and aunt shippers will hold onto a secondary source, the GOT director Alan Taylor, that claims GRRM told him that Jon and his aunt are meant to be, are the point of the story, the ice and fire, etc, which contradicts GRRM's own words in the quotes above.

You can read about the Alan Taylor issue here:

But just think about this very telling fact: The supposed words that GRRM told to Alan Taylor about Jon and aunty being "the ice and fire", "the point of the story", are not featured in So Spake Martin, the legit source for anything that the author has said about Asoiaf over the years. Alan Taylor gave multiples interviews during GOT's S7 about what GRRM told him about Jon and aunty during the filming of S1 in Malta, and he even repeated those words in some behind the scenes DVD stuff or something, and none of these is featured in the main source of GRRM's words about Asoiaf. And I wonder: Why??? Why none of Alan Taylor's "reports" is featured in So Spake Martin, like many others fan reports of their talking, correspondace, encounters, Q&A, etc, with GRRM about Asoiaf???

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Thanks for your message!

#anon asks #asoiaf #grrm #jonerice

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blue-cheeseinmyoffwhites · 2 years

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RWBY: Whitley’s Allusion

Next up is our favorite little shit. Whitley has had some debate on what his allusion is. I believe this one makes a lot of sense.

Whitley is the Magic Mirror from Snow White.

Before we start, I get that it may seem weird because the Magic Mirror isn’t exactly a character. But I feel like it’s prominent enough to be used as a reference figure. Think about Adam and how he is not only based on the Beast, but also the Wilting Rose.

The Magic Mirror was a mystical gadget owned by the Evil Stepmother to show her what she loved most; herself. As a mirror it reflected its holder however they are. The Evil Stepmother asked it to show the prettiest of them all in holes the mirror would again reflect her.

Basically, the Evil Stepmother used the artifact to tell her what she wants to hear. Tying this to RWBY storyline, this can easily be compared to Whitley and his relationship with his father. Jacques Schnee, though mainly alluding to Jack Frost, actually shares a double allusion with the Evil Stepmother (this time being the Evil Stepfather). He carries Whitley around to display his young self and mends him to be just like him. Whitley has been sucking up to Jaques for years. It’s why he’s his favorite child, because he’s the only one that he has control over.

Whitley is almost literally a reflection of Jacques (a “spitting image” as said by Watts). He even has a picture of Whitley on his desk, no one else. Another cool coincidence is that the term “whit” means a small part of something, which can relate to how Whitley is basically a younger and smaller version of Jacques.

But as the story goes, the Magic Mirror ends up reflecting the beauty of Snow White instead, being more fair than the Stepmother ever was. In the recent Volume, Whitley has become acquainted with the heroes and has been very helpful during the second half. Hiring Klein to nurse Nora, calling for the shipping transports to help the evacuation, and even killing a Grimm. His contributions make him seem less like his father, and more like his sister, Snow White.

This can be seen as the Magic Mirror finally rejecting its owner’s control and reflecting someone else more deserving. Whitley is the only son Jaq got control over, but since he got arrested, Whitley saw him for what he really was, a prick. From there he decided to get his act together and help his sister during the war.

As said from my Ilia post, not every character has a concrete allusion that you can easily put 2 & 2 together. Just see what the character is about & really dive into their story and the people they’re around. Not everyone can just slap on a red hoodie & call it a day.

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uptoolateart · 1 year

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Fairytales - All of us are our own Prince Charming

A few years ago, I attended this workshop about storytelling and the ancient legends of Great Britain (where I live), and the host said that as a society we are suffering from a ‘crisis of metaphor’. What he meant was that we tend to take things too literally and therefore miss symbolic significance.

An area where I see this happen over and over again is our interpretation of fairytales - namely, this idea of a princess being saved by a prince, and the modern notion that it teaches little girls they need a man to rescue them.

This is valid, but only because we fail to teach little girls (and boys!) the true meaning of such tales. In fact, the most well-known fairytales date back not just centuries but millennia, because they contain elements of older myths. For instance, the three fairy godmothers in Sleeping Beauty are the three fates found in Norse and Greek mythology - who also appear as the three witches in Macbeth. The notion of an apple of temptation in Snow White, too, has its origins in ancient Greek legend - not to speak of its allusion to the Garden of Eden.

The reason such tales have persisted in popular culture for so long is that they speak to something deep inside us, and this goes well beyond just promoting the idea of a girl needing a man to save her. For this reason, there are books out there psychoanalysing classic tales as if they were dreams, from both a Freudian and a Jungian perspective. We also got taught to analyse stories in this manner in my English degree, once upon a time.

As a brief example, I’ll return to Sleeping Beauty. As a little girl, she's hidden away and protected from all eyes, especially men’s eyes, as if trying to keep her young forever. Her parents refuse to allow her to touch that magic spindle, which is a symbol for puberty and awakening sexuality. I mean...a needle, and a bloom of blood?? However, this growth is inevitable. Despite how much they try to keep her from being exposed to the outside world, Aurora finds the spindle anyway and falls into a deep sleep.

This sleep not only affects her but the whole kingdom. Everyone goes unconscious, other than the witch / dragon. The prince then has to fight through thorns to reach the princess and defeat the dragon. A crucial question is: why would he do this? Surely there are easier princesses to win! And if we look at the Disney rendition, he literally just saw Aurora talking to squirrels and owls and immediately fell in love with her, instead of thinking she was a bit odd. All of this tells us we can’t take it literally.

The dragon and thorns are the internal defensive measures to try to keep out the prince, who represents everything that was being repressed - the awakening moment that will bring Aurora into the adult world the parents and fairies were so keen to hold her back from. In this sense, we can say that the witch and the prince are both other aspects of the princess. In other words, there is no girl in need of saving by a man. The man is part of the young woman. She is saving herself. There is no kiss to wake her up magically - this is symbolic of her emotional awakening and transition into adulthood. This is why she is named Aurora, a reference to the dawn.

We can look at every popular fairytale in this way and see that each character is an archetype. Each of us, male or female, holds all these archetypes within us. So, fairytales are not merely stories but ways of symbolically exploring growth experiences and journeys we all go through. In this way, even a little boy hearing one of these tales can relate to the princess. Every boy is the princess and prince - every girl is the princess and prince.

What is key is making sure that the symbolism is strong. Don’t explain all of this to young kids and ruin the magic. But as our children grow and begin to be aware of the symbols, we can explore it with them and teach them that each and every one of them has the power within to be their own Prince Charming and free themselves from any 'evil spell'.

#fairy tales #fairytale analysis #fairytale meta #sleeping beauty #sleeping beauty analysis #jungian #archetypes #Freudian #symbolism #myths #prince charming

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marciabrady · 1 year

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Hi Marcia! I read your meta about Snow and Aurora's ages and it was very well thought! I wanted to ask you about how do you view the issue of Ariel's age? Unlike Aurora and Snow who are timeless or 16 in a fantasy world where it was the age of majority for young women, Ariel was written much like a very modern teenage girl. I remember that in the DVD commentary both Mark Henn and John Musker stated that they wanted Ariel to feel more like a real teenage girl in aspects like wanting to grow up but still being innocent or even in details like her fawning over Eric's statue, which Musker made the comparison of a teenage girl fawning over her favorite rock star poster in her room. She was also partly inspired in Alyssa Milano who was 16 at the time to model her physical appearance (alongside Glen Keane's wife and Sherri Stoner who were both adult women). Because of that, many people have issue that she married at age 16, because many feel as if an actual high schooler got married. I still don't buy it, because I remember in a magazine that Ron Clements said that through the movie Ariel grows from a teenage girl to a young woman and Glen Keane stated that her story is that about a teenage girl becoming an adult, in other words, her story is one of coming of age, but what do you think about it?

Thank you so much for letting me know how you experienced my thoughts! The Ariel topic is a very divisive one but, as always, I have an opinion about it lol

So, I can definitely tell you've done a ton of research from all the references you listed! I totally agree that there's an argument to be made about The Little Mermaid, in some ways, being a coming of age story for a young girl but I always felt it was more of an allegory for the gay experience and found the former take just substitutes as the straight, sanitized version of this. With the original author being LGBT and Howard Ashman adapting it, there's so many gay allusions and parallels that go over so many people's head, and it's so much more than just a straight woman who doesn't fit into her society. The inclusion of Ariel being sixteen, like in Aurora's case, was a nod to the original fairytale (though in most versions I'm almost certain that the mermaid is fifteen), and the film admittedly suffers from slight tonal issues because it's caught between being a fairytale and the newer shift to intentionally making stories more modern (despite the fact that the previous films all had timeless storytelling, I think every generation just thinks they're reinventing the wheel; I remember reading interviews Lesley Ann Warren did when the '65 Cinderella came out and she was claiming it was a much more realistic and modern take on Julie Andrews's Cinderella and, in retrospect, Julie's seems to emerge as the more realistic and modern one).

I think saying Ariel is sixteen does give the audience insight, as I mentioned in a previous ask with Snow White, of how much less...cynical she is about the world around her. She isn't blind to the horrors that humanity is capable of committing, but she has such an untainted view of life, especially in comparison with Triton, and she's his direct foil when it comes to the storyline of the film. I, personally, still take this with a grain of salt though because it's undoubtedly a fantasy film and the reason that we're clutching so tight is because 18 is the legal age of consent in our modern times, in America, but even if this was a super literal take...16 would've been the age Ariel would've gotten married anyway in the time she comes from? That's not even counting what the age of consent would've been in Atlantica or in Triton's kingdom, and those rules are probably different than ours. Besides, we don't know how much time passes between Triton turning Ariel into a human and the wedding happening. Also, nothing is sketchy about her and Eric's relationship because it's impossible that he's more than two years older than her, which still places their relationship in a healthy dynamic in terms of consent.

I think Mark and Glen and the directors, and even Jodi's, take on Ariel is valid but I think the most important, when examining artistic intent is Howard Ashman's, as he and Hans Christian Andersen, are the creators of Ariel. Jodi even says that she mimicked Howard's reading of the lines and, if anyone ever loves Ariel, it's because of Howard Ashman's take and how he coached her. Everything about Ariel comes from Howard, and I think the reason we never see Ariel in the sequels the way she is in the original film is because of the loss of that fundamental gay perspective. So, yes, technically Ariel could just be seen as a realistic teenager who's coming into her own but I personally see her as someone who's learning to live life in a society that oppresses her, against all odds, and in the face of a family that doesn't understand or accept her. It's about Ariel discovering herself and finding her place in the world and I think it's safe to say these things could be true about any teenage girl, and I think it's a great diversion for directors who want to make a film marketable to middle America and generally present it as more acceptable, but those things are so much more true to the gay experience and community. How do you live in a world where you constantly have to hide yourself, change who you are, lie to your family for your own safety, feel like an outsider? Where the life you want is seemingly accessible, but also out of reach? How that move, which will in so many ways be validating and help you feel like a participant in life as opposed to a prisoner, will at the same time give you a new life and love and family, while completely alienating you from everything you've ever known and is dangerous and can cause you to lose everything- even your own life? Does having a voice matter that much if you're stifling yourself and who you are on a daily basis? Or is the voice of authentic self-expression more important? I swear, I could talk about this forever, but to answer your question, I think the teenager coming into her own take is fine (and Ariel being sixteen...again, she came from a different time when people got married much younger, Eric wasn't that far apart from her in age, and we don't know how much time passed between her becoming a human and the wedding), but I ultimately think it's the story of a gay person finding their place in the world and having to navigate through life alone and risking everything to be able to live authentically. There's a reason the Disney studios credit Howard with "giving a mermaid her voice."

#ask #anonymous #it's so cute that you all call me marcia lol #also the alyssa thing is definitely credited and publicized a lot but alyssa didn't really make it to ariel's final design #disney often does things like that to draw more mainstream buzz for a character #like audrey hepburn was the inspiration for some concept art but she ultimately wasn't the physical source of aurora's look and nothing #of her made in the final form of what we see in sleeping beauty #so that's kinda another instance

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darksaiyangoku · 1 year

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My Idea for Ever After

Warning: spoilers for Volume 9

In Volume 9, we got introduced to the world of Ever After, which is heavily inspired by Wonderland. Despite the concept being good, I didn't like the execution of it.

If I were to do Ever After, here's how I'd write it:

Instead of having the Gods come from Ever After, the world would be what they created after Remnant. Throughout the milennia, it evolves in parallel to Remnant, though it will have its fair share of differences. The inhabitants there will be doppelgangers of the main cast and not just any doppelgangers; they'll be the fairy tales, myth and legend allusions themselves. For example;

Ruby would meet Red Riding Hood.

Weiss will meet Snow White.

Blake will meet Beauty.

Yang will meet Goldilocks.

And it could be the same for all the other characters as well. Finally, compared to Remnant's use of aura, dust and semblances, Ever After will be more magic based, akin to an epic western fantasy.

Now I even though it's most likely that I won't make any one shots set in Ever After, you all are free to use this idea in any of your AUs. Seriously, go nuts.

You all have my full blessing. Good luck!

#rwby #rwby au #rwby fanon #rwby volume 9 #rwby volume 9 spoilers #ever after #rwby ever after

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anthurak · 3 months

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So this is almost certainly going to be an unpopular opinion for some, but for a long time now I’ve been feeling that the RWBY fandom puts just a bit TOO much stock in the various fairytale/mythology/literary allusions of the characters when it comes to theory-crafting. It feels like people find out that a certain character A is an allusion to another character B from an already completed story and go ‘Well that must mean that Character A is going to turn out just like Character B!’

Which of course completely ignores that these are allusions and references. Ruby Rose might have strong parallels and similarities to Little Red Riding Hood, but that does not mean she IS literally Little Red Riding Hood. Just as Weiss Schnee is NOT literally Snow White, Penny Polendina is NOT literally Pinocchio and Oscar Pine is NOT literally the Little Prince. Ultimately, whatever allusion a character might have comes SECOND to who they are as an actual character, NOT the other way around.

Whatever allusions a character has might inform what could happen to them, but that should still be treated as secondary to what we actually see them do in the show.

For example, I see a LOT of ships in the RWBY fandom that people seem to largely use interpretations of the characters’ allusions as ‘evidence’, rather than what the characters actually DO in the actual SHOW. Like has anyone noticed that discussions of ships like Bumbleby, Renora, Nuts and Dolts or White Rose have historically not involved much interpretation (relatively speaking anyway) of the potential ‘complimentary allusions’ of these characters? Because there is no NEED to, because all the evidence for these ships is right fucking there on the screen. Meanwhile we’ve got ships (and I am NOT naming names) that people will swear up and down are TOTALLY going to be canon for really-realsies where most or even all of the ‘evidence’ consists of people effectively playing some kind of matching game with their allusions. Or saying nothing more than ‘Character A kinda-sorta resembles the love-interest of Character B’s allusion’.

And ALL of this doesn’t even take into account the biggest factor which I keep getting the impression that WAY too many RWBY fans still having gotten the memo on:

The fact that RWBY literally NEVER plays its allusions STRAIGHT.

All the way from minute one when we saw an allusion to Little Red Riding Hood cutting down a horde of Big Bad Wolves, RWBY has ALWAYS been subverting, inverting, flipping, twisting and otherwise playing it’s allusions, references and archetypes literally ANY way but actually STRAIGHT.

Little Red Riding Hood hunts the Big Bad Wolf. Snow White is equal parts Princess AND Knight in Shining Armor. Cinderella is a tragic villain origin story. Pinocchio was always a real girl. The Great and Powerful Wizard Oz is far more powerful than anyone thought, but is ALSO far more of a fraud than anyone thought.

So when people use these characters’ allusions as some kind of rigid road-map to theorize what might happen to them, it’s not just that this detracts from their identity as their own characters; the story itself isn’t even using that map!

I mean speaking personally, that’s what has always made RWBY theory-crafting FUN. Trying to guess how the writers might twist and flip the allusions they’re using. But that also means that the allusions of the various characters simply DON’T actually provide ANY kind of accurate ‘road-map’ for where they might be going. Instead, the best we can do is use what the actual show has actually shown us to get any kind of idea where the characters are headed.

Ultimately, I feel like too often I see that when people are making theories about RWBY characters, they are treating them more like the characters they are based on, instead of the characters they actually ARE.

#rwby #rwby theorizing #rwby theory-crafting #rwby allusions #rwby analysis #rwby fandom #fandom criticism #the only way rwby won't play its allusions is STRAIGHT #i'm amazed there are so many people who seem to have NOT gotten that memo yet

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bluewhale52 · 2 years

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Santa Baby

Summary: What happens when you run into your boyfriend’s super handsome, super hot ex while doing last minute Christmas shopping? Chaos. Chaos is what happens.

Pairing: Jimin x Female OC x Taehyung

Rating: R , SFW as in nothing explicit, but of mature language

Genre: fluff, established relationship, start of a poly relationship, my attempt at crack/ humour

WC: 1.3k

Warning: allusion to threesome

A/N: Day 3 of 12days BTS Project 🎄 Prompts: Last minute gift shopping but wait, is that your ex? and Next Christmas we’ll be needing one more stocking

Every year you wish you had prepared sooner, and yet, every year, you still leave your Christmas shopping to the last minute, as in on 24 December. At 8pm.

One would think that being in a relationship with someone as meticulous about schedules and lists as Jimin is would help you break that habit. But, no, you just can’t bring yourself to shop any earlier. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush, to dart from shop to shop and impulsively buy the first thing you see, or to fight off another procrastinator like yourself, that makes you feel alive.

You plop the shopping bags onto Jimin’s lap, and you give him the most satisfied smile.

“All done? Got a good present for me, your perfect boyfriend who waits patiently while you scavenge your gifts?” He pettily asks.

You stretch your arms, feeling good and satisfied. “ All done. You’d love your gift. I’ll even let you open it the moment we get home.”

He groans as he gathers all the shopping bags. “Can we eat now? I’m super hungry.”

“Sure! Tteokbokki? I like the place at the food court. Should we go there?” You pull him up and link your arm with his. “Yeah, that sounds go-”

You stop walking when you feel Jimin freezing next to you. His smiling eyes are gone, only to be replaced by sheer shock.

“Jimin, what is it?” You follow his line of sight and fail to see anything that could elicit such a reaction from your boyfriend.

“Jimi-” you turn back to him, only to find him scurrying to hide behind a rack of clothes. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Get down here!” He hisses at you.

You look at him, puzzled. “What? Why?”

He peers out like a meerkat before kneeling back, burying himself behind the clothes. You look across the floor again, trying to discover what it is among your fellow late night shoppers that your boyfriend seems to be so afraid of.

“Jimin, just tell me what it is that’s botheri-” you stop when you catch something in the corner of your eye. A brown beret, paired with a long brown coat. Tall posture with a smile that can melt the coldest ice. No. Way.

You immediately kneel next to Jimin. “Is that… is that your ex?”

Jimin squirms. “Yeah. Can we go home now? We’ll just make ramyeon or something.”

“What’s his name? Taehyung?”

Jimin nods. You peer out again. “Oh my god, he’s hot, Jimin.”

“Excuse me! I’m right here!”

You give Jimin a look. “Well I appreciate beauty when I see it.”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes. “Is he still there?”

You glance over to where Taehyung is standing. “Yeah,” you mumble, then you decide to take a chance.

“Babe,” you scoot closer to Jimin, “remember the thing we talked about?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you. “You’re referring to the thing, aren’t you?”

You nod your head. “Can we please?”

“Are you crazy?” He sighs exasperatedly.

“Please Jimin,” you clasp your hands together and put on your puppy-eye look. “It can be my Christmas present. Please? Jimin? Babe? Baby?”

He scrunches his nose and acts like he is going through a massive internal struggle. He huffs and puffs, gives you a few looks of ‘I can’t believe you’re making me do this’ before finally relents to your pleading.

“Fine.” He spits out the word.

You squeal and grab his hand. “Let’s go say hi to your ex,” you pull him up and drag him towards where Taehyung is.

“TAEHYUNG!” you call out his name, too excitedly.

Jimin plops back on the bed as you go to the bathroom to clean up. Outside, the snow is slowly enveloping the city in white, but Jimin is feeling warm. His chest- no, his whole body- is sweating, and he starts to feel sticky. He should probably take a shower, but at the same time he doesn’t want to leave the bed.

Not when Taehyung is sprawled next to him, as naked as he is.

The ex turns to him and lets out a slow exhale. “Your girlfriend is nuts.”

Jimin giggles. “She’s something, yeah.”

“I didn’t expect running into my ex after two years would lead to… this.”

Jimin shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “I met her not long after you’d left, and she knows how I felt, well, still feel, towards you.”

“And she’s okay with it?”

Before Jimin can answer, you step out of the bathroom. Dressed in just panties and Taehyung’s oversize t-shirt, you look incredibly small and cute. Jimin feels himself stirring again, and from the way Taehyung is squirming, Jimin knows his ex is as affected as he is.

“You know, we’ll be needing another stocking next Christmas.” You declare.

Jimin’s heart stops at your announcement. His eyes definitely zero onto your stomach. Then he looks at Taehyung, who also has the same shocked expression on his face.

“Why,” Jimin stutters, “why would we need another stocking?”

“Because we have a new addition,” you look at Taehyung pointedly.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. He points to himself and you nod, which he takes as confirmation. He scoots closer to Jimin. “Min, correct me if I’m wrong, it doesn’t happen instantaneously, does it?”

Jimin shakes his head in response, his eyes are back on your stomach again. He starts feeling light headed especially when he spots the white plastic stick in your hand.

“What happens instantaneously?” You ask, a little confused at how pale the two men look now, sitting side by side on your bed.

Jimin tries to answer but he only ends up sputtering. Taehyung glances at his ex-boyfriend, wondering how he is feeling right now with the shocked announcement from you.

“Wait,” Taehyung suddenly realizes something, “how do you know it’s me?”

You give him a look. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but we both came in you. How do you know it’s mine?”

“Huh?” You are beyond confused now. “What does it have to do with anything?”

Jimin and Taehyung look at each other, even more confused than before.

“Tae is right, babe,” Jimin finally finds his voice, “How can you be sure the baby is Tae’s?”

It takes you a few seconds to process the question.

“WHAT?” you shriek. “BABY? What are you guys talking about?”

The three of you are suddenly in a bizarre, puzzling Mexican standoff.

“Wait, wait, let’s rewind.” Taehyung breaks the silence. “_______, are you pregnant?”

You cannot believe the question asked to you. “No,” you answer immediately, “no, at least I don’t think I am.”

Jimin scoffs. “Then why are you holding a pregnancy test?”

You look down at your hand. “This?” You raise the white plastic stick. “This is my toothbrush.”

For the umpteenth time that night, Jimin is lost for words. So, he utters a small, “Oh.”, as does Taehyung.

“Guys, what the hell is going on?”

Jimin slams his hands on the bed. “We thought you were pregnant!”

You burst out laughing. “What the hell? Why would I be pregnant? I’m on the pills!”

“Then why did you say another stocking, and… and… “ Jimin stammers.

“And pointing at me when you said new addition.” Taehyung finishes Jimin’s sentence.

You want to pull your hair out. “Because you are the new addition! I thought there was something between the three of us. Like, you know, our chemistry was off the chart! I just feel like tonight isn’t a one off as we thought it would be.”

The expression on the two men’s faces switch from confusion, to realisation, to pride.

“Well, yeah,” Jimin agrees. “So, there’s no baby?”

“What is it with you and babies?” You stomp your way back into the bathroom.

Taehyung exhales loudly. “She’s not pregnant, Min.”

Jimin rests his head on the bed headboard, trying to process the roller coaster of emotions of the night. “The three of us really need to sit down and have a proper discussion.”

The two men start laughing, almost hysterically, as the sound of you brushing your teeth comes out of the bathroom. When you return to the bed, squeezing your way between your boyfriend and his ex- who potentially will also become your boyfriend- you realise something.

“Wait… Do you guys have a pregnancy kink or something?”

Like this fic? Please reblog if you do! Published 14122021

#12DaysofBTS bccxfi #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #vmin x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

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Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: allusions to sex, heavy making out and touching (i think that should cover it), swears

A/N: now back to your regularly scheduled fluff...

Masterlist

Chapter 17

“Alright, bye. Love you,” you laughed, hanging up the phone.

“Jo, Daddy already found a way to make it up to you for missing the museum,” you smiled.

“What?” she asked excitedly.

“Ah that would ruin the surprise. Wouldn’t it?” you grinned, “But we are leaving now.”

Jo slid her snow boots and jacket on as you sneakily packed her hat, mittens, and snow pants. You also grabbed snow stuff for Spencer because converse and a sweater vest would not keep him warm in 29 degree weather with 7 inches of snow on the ground.

Jo skipped out of the elevator, not even waiting for you to go to Spencer’s desk.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed like usual.

“Hi, Princess!” he lifted her up into his lap, “Are you excited?”

Jo nodded enthusiastically.

“Good because I got permission to go sledding on the HUGE hill right outside,” he smiled.

“But I don’t have a sled,” Jo frowned.

“I bought you one,” he grinned.

After Spencer had finished suiting Jo up in her snow gear, you slid a purple hat with a big white pom-pom on top over his head, a few of his messy curls still poking out.

“Can’t have you getting cold either, my dear,” you gave him a quick peck on the nose as he scrunched his face up in a smile.

“Oh chocolate thunder, get my coat please. We are going outside to watch this cuteness!” Penelope exclaimed.

“Of course, baby girl,” he replied, standing up from his desk.

You all piled into the elevator and headed outside. Jo stared down at the big hill in front of them. It seemed awfully scary to a little girl.

You grabbed her mitten-covered hand.

“How about I go down with you the first time and Daddy pushes us?” you suggested.

Jo nodded as you both climbed into the sled.

“Okay, ready? 1...2...3!” Spencer gently pushed you both down the hill.

Spencer was relieved when he heard the joyful giggles of Jo followed shortly by your laughter.

Jo ran back up the hill with you towing the sled behind her.

“Daddy! You go with me now!” she said.

You both took turns going down the hill with Jo even Auntie Penelope and Uncle Derek had their turns. Jo was even brave enough to go down by herself if Spencer waited at the bottom for her.

Much to everyone’s chagrin, you had to go home when it started to get dark and Jo’s cheeks were bright red from the cold.

You, Spencer, and Jo were driving over an hour out of the city to get a freshly cut Christmas tree from a tree farm.

Spencer packed you all thermoses with hot chocolate and mini marshmallows. His excitement may have actually exceeded Jo’s. He told you he never got to get a real Christmas tree when he was younger because the trees shipped to the middle of the hot Las Vegas desert wilted quickly. And, he had no room for a big tree in his old apartment.

It was cute seeing the both of them all bundled up in their matching purple scarves and big winter coats. Spencer brought the sled so he could pull Jo along since there was about a foot of snow on the ground that would make it very hard for her to walk.

Spencer had taken the exact measurements of the corner of the living room so the tree would fit perfectly.

“What about that one?” you asked, pointing to a tree farther back in the field.

“Let’s go check it out,” Spencer pulled a measuring tape from his pocket.

“Always prepared, Dr. Reid,” you laughed.

“They didn't give me a PhD in engineering for nothing,” he grinned.

“This is about the right size. What do you think, Princess? Is this a good tree for Santa to put presents under?” he asked.

Jo gave an approving nod after inspecting the tree.

“Alright, then it’s settled. Hand me the saw, love,” Spencer said.

“Please be careful,” you reminded him, slowly handing him the saw that the farm employees gave to you.

After multiple breaks and some encouragement from you and Jo, Spencer was finally able to saw through the tree’s stump completely.

He dragged it to the car as you pulled Jo in the sled. You both tied it to the top of the car using bungee cords.

Once you were home, you set the tree in its stand and gave it plenty of water. Spencer got the box of ornaments down from the attic.

You put Christmas music on and the three of you spent the rest of the day decorating the tree, baking cookies, and watching Home Alone.

Spencer had insisted on putting on a Santa suit in case Jo came down when you were putting the presents out.

Knowing this information, you decided to tease him by purchasing a tight elf dress that stopped right under your butt.

You smirked, looking at yourself one more time in the mirror before heading downstairs where Spencer was waiting.

Spencer ceased his movements as he saw you slowly descend down the stairs. He was practically drooling.

“What’s wrong? Have I been a naughty girl?” you asked, feigning innocence.

“Yes, baby, you have,” he whispered in your ear, roughly planting kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

Spencer cupped your ass with his hands.

You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck and he let out a moan that vibrated against your skin.

“Shhhh, we can’t wake Jo up,” you reminded him.

He started to guide you over to the couch but you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

“We’ve got to put the presents under the tree first, babe.”

You broke from his grasp and Spencer let out a soft whine.

Deciding you weren’t done having your fun just yet, you picked up a present from the box where you had hidden them and slowly bent over to place it under the tree.

You felt a light smack against your ass that made you stand up quickly because you certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

You turned around to see Spencer with the biggest grin on his face and a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Don’t tease me, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, “Cause I have no problem with doing that again and again and again.”

Jo woke you both up by jumping on the bed.

“Santa came! Santa came! Santa came!”

“He sure did, baby,” you giggled, looking at Spencer.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go open some presents!” Spencer got out from underneath the covers, dressed in his flannel PJs.

Jo ran down the stairs with you and Spencer right behind.

“No opening any gifts until Mommy gets her camera!” you shouted out from the kitchen as Jo took her seat on the floor right in front of the tree.

You grabbed your camera, the box of donuts you got yesterday, and coffee for you and Spencer.

“Thanks, love,” Spencer gave you a quick kiss, accepting the mug and picking up a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles as you joined him on the couch.

Jo opened up all of her presents from you and Spencer that consisted of a model plane that she could build herself with instructions, a set of washable watercolor paints, and of course more dinosaur memorabilia.

“Daddy’s turn!” you jumped up from the couch and grabbed a manila folder that had a huge bow on it under the tree.

Spencer looked at you curiously, opening the envelope and revealing a packet of forms that were half filled out.

“It’s the forms needed to update Jo’s birth certificate. Once you fill out your section, I can take it to city hall and your name will officially be added as the father on Jo’s birth certificate,” you smiled.

Spencer nodded softly, staring down at the document in awe.

“I love you so much,” he finally said, pulling you in for a hug.

“And I love you so much too,” he grabbed Jo to join the hug.

“We love you too,” you replied.

Spencer wiped the happy tears from his eyes.

“Okay,” he chuckled, “First, I have a gift for Jo and Mommy and then Mommy gets her gift.”

Spencer pulled out a bag from the back of the tree and handed it to Jo who was sitting in your lap.

Two sets of headbands with a pair of black round circles and a red bow were inside the bag. You both looked at Spencer for further explanation.

“We are going to Disneyworld,” he smiled.

Jo screamed in excitement, running over to hug Spencer’s legs. You laughed, putting the Minnie ears on you and Jo’s heads.

“Spence, that is so generous and thoughtful of you but how much did that cost,” you asked.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, my dear. I had to make up for all the past Christmases and birthdays,” he kissed you before picking up the last item under the tree and handing it to you.

You opened the box to see two identical silver bands inside, one slightly bigger than the other. You looked up at Spencer skeptically.

“Not the ring yet. Just a ring…for each of us,” he picked up the smaller ring and slipped it onto your index finger, kissing your hand.

“I love it and I love you,” you smiled, looking at your hand and then taking the other ring and slipping it onto his index finger.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid #cm fanfic #criminal minds

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

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You Never Raised Me (Alliser Thorne x BastardDaughter!Reader, Eddison Tollett x Female!Reader)

Masterlist

Eddison Tollett x Female!reader, Alliser Thorne x BastardDaughter!reader, Samwell Tarly, Jon Snow, Grenn & Pyp x Female!reader (platonic)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters and plots from ASOIAF/GOT. That all belongs to George. R. R. Martin and HBO

Prompt: Tensions are high at Castle Black with the murder of Jeor Mormont and preparing for war against the Wildlings with threat of White Walkers in the distance. The arrival of an unexpected visitor brings both complications and new beginnings to many brothers of the Night’s Watch.

Warnings: profanity, violence, mentions of attempted assault, death, allusions to sex. Dialogue that degrades and Thorne being an ass.

Word count: 3000+

The cup hit the wall with a loud *bang* before falling to the floor. It’s contents splattered against the pavement and dripped to the ground while the echo of the cup filled the now silent room.

Alliser Thorne stood from his chair, nearly making it fall back from the force while his face wore a glare. The person it was directed towards stood stoic, not even flinching by the outburst. They were dressed in complete black leather and stood with their arms crossed over their chest.

“I have enough shit to worry about. The wildlings, these untrained men. Now I have to deal with this fucking mutineer shit and you.” They bit back a smirk at the distaste in his tone.

“It’s nice to see you to again, father.”

“Don’t even with me girl,” he hissed, turning away from her gaze.

“Girl,” she scoffed, “Is that any way to talk to your daughter. I have traveled a long way to see you and this is the greeting I get.”

“I didn’t make you come here did I, Y/N?” Alliser raised his voice, not caring if the brothers could hear from outside, “You were always a stupid girl growing up--.”

“How would you know?” Y/N spat, eyes becoming cold, “You were hardly ever there even before you took the black.” Alliser halted his pacing, facing his estranged daughter before slowly approaching her.

“We were at war,” his tone held an edge. He towered over Y/N and looked down her with a scowl. “Your mother and I were not married--we weren’t even courting, Y/N. She was just the lucky whore I came across in the brothel when I needed to forget about how shitty the world was.” His words were harsh, but they didn’t faze her.

“Yet you supplied her with money and necessities.”

“So she was able to provide for you.”

“But you didn’t want to know me? All those chances you had. All those times you came by the cottage --the one you so graciously helped her pay for, you could’ve taken the time to chat with me. To know me.” Her stance faltered a bit, the emotions becoming too much. “But you didn’t.”

“I had a duty to the country,” he tried to reason with her, “A duty to my king, my family, my House and we were on the losing side of that war. What did you expect me to do?”

“You could have stayed!” Y/N seethed, the anger she had been holding in finally letting loose, “You could’ve stayed. You didn’t have to love her, you didn’t have marry her, but you could’ve stayed for me. I was your daughter--your only daughter and I wasn’t enough for you to stay. Not for one day, not even an hour.”

“We’re not discussing this,” Alliser shook his head, having had enough of the conversation. Y/N however, she had been waiting years for this and wasn’t about to let him walk away from it.

She followed him out the door much to his dismay, ignoring any brother of the watch who was watching with curious eyes. “Why not? Can’t face the truth? I took you for a man of honor yet you can’t even look me in the eyes and admit it.”

The man spun around making the woman almost collide with him had she not slowed her pace. His glare was hard, burning into her and Y/N knew she hit a nerve in her father. Could she really even call him that? He never was a father to her, only the man who provided half her blood.

“I’d watch your tongue, girl. You may not be ready to hear the truth so save yourself from the heartbreak and leave. Women don’t belong at Castle Black.”

He turned on his heel and left her standing there before she could respond. Y/N remained stilled, her gaze boring into his retreating figure, shoulders shaking from the anger she was feeling.

Taking a deep inhale, Y/N straightened her posture. She went to turn around but froze when a group of five stood about ten feet from here, obviously having heard the conversation take place between her and Thorne.

The group consisted of a few young men, one with dark curly hair, one with a with very short almost cropped hair, a tall built man with a goatee and a man who was on the round side. The last man was a little older than the rest, probably closer to her age and lean built with brown hair just slightly above his shoulders.

They were all looking rather perplexed, having witnessed the young woman being dragged by Thorne the moment she trotted through the gates on horse and just now when she chased him out the door. They were curious what her relation to him was, and why he looked so frustrated by her presence and her constant glare on him.

They got their answer when they were standing a little too close to the room the two were in. They heard everything that was said, and boy were they shocked to discover the woman standing in front of them was the bastard daughter of the one and only Alliser Thorne.

Having had enough of their staring, Y/N glared at them. “Don’t you fuckers have anything better to do?” She spat, “Keep staring at me and I’ll fucking gouge your eyes out.”

She was walking away before any of them could get a word out. They watched in stunned belief as she headed toward the area where Maester Aemon resided and disappeared around the corner.

“You believe it now, Edd?” Jon nudged the man when she was out of their sight. The oldest of the bunch didn’t believe she was Thorne’s blood when they first heard, defending himself by saying ‘well for starters she looks nothing like him, way more prettier than I would’ve thought a daughter of his would look like.’

“Yeah,” Edd grumbled, rolling his eyes. “She’s his fucking daughter alright. As if we needed another Thorne in this place.”

__________________

A few days had passed and Y/N was still present at Castle Black much to her fathers dismay. It was his loyalty and high regard for Maester Aemon that the acting Lord Commander allowed her to stay. The older wise man felt that since he allowed Gilly, Samwell’s Wildling friend to stay, then the same privilege should be allowed for Thorne’s daughter.

“I will let you know now that if any of your brothers try to touch me,” she warned, “This castle be more unmanned then it was when I first arrived.”

Many of the men would stare at her with lust filled eyes. They had been deprived of women for a long time, and seeing one in the flesh made them have tempting thoughts. Some were smart though, they would look but wouldn’t dare to touch. They feared Thorne would have their head if they did.

Others however, they were fools to say the least. Ones who witnessed how Thorne treated her made them feel they would be able to get away with their dark desires.

This didn’t end well for them. Maester Aemon found himself having to patch up several brothers with stab wounds to the groin area, lacerations to their arms, one even suffered a concussion and broken nose when the woman brought them to their knees and smashed their head against the wooded bench.

Jon Snow and his friends happened to witness the mans failed attempt at trying to overpower Y/N. They had just walked into the kitchens, having heard the sounds of groaning and shuffling from outside, and froze in the doorway. She had just got him on his knees after a hard kick to the groin, before taking the back of his head and neck in her hands and driving his face into the wood. He hit the lumber with a loud *crack* immediately breaking his nose and Y/N pushed his now slump, unconscious body to the ground.

Bringing a hand to her face, she brushed away the hair in her face that had fallen from her tie during the ordeal. She gave one last kick to his ribs for good measure. The sound of someone clearing their throat made Y/N jump and put on a protective stance, however she became relaxed upon seeing the group.

“First one today?” Jon wondered aloud, his eyes on the fallen brother.

“Third,” she corrected, making his hand snap up. “tenth total since I’ve arrived. You would have thought your brothers got the message by now.” The tone of her voice was full of annoyance, which none of the men could blame.

“If you couldn’t tell, Castle Black is full of idiots and stupid decisions,” Edd grumbled from the side. Her eyes trailed over to his, narrowing slightly though she had a ghost of a smirk on her lips.

“It may have crossed my mind a time or two.”

“We’ll get this one to the maester,” Sam announced with a sigh, Grenn moving with him to pick up the unconscious man. Sam to the legs and Grenn to his upper body, the two men picked up the brother and carried him out, Pyp holding the door for them and following them to offer any other assistance leaving Jon and Edd alone with Y/N.

Three cups of ale were placed on the table, each of them grabbing one before taking respected seats on the benches. Jon and Edd were surprised at how well she drank the ale without scowling in disgust like most people do the first time they tried it.

“Drink this kind of stuff often?” Jon asked from beside her, taking a sip of his own ale.

“When you’re poor as shit and it’s all you can afford, you get used to it pretty quickly.”

“Where are you from?”

“I’ll give you a hit, I’m a Waters.”

“The Crownlands.” Edd mumbled which received a nod from the woman. She took another swig from her ale before replying, “Flea Bottom to be exact, at least until my mother obtained enough money from the brothel and Thorne to move us out.” Both the men raised their eyebrows, not expecting

“How’d a girl like you learned how to fight and swing a sword in Flea Bottom?” Jon asked before he could stop himself, Edd shooting him a look. There was silent from Y/N, her gaze focused on the cracks of the table before she slowly lifted her face so she could look at the two men.

A soft sigh released from her, eyes moving between Edd and Jon, “Girls like me get hurt in the world we live in. I had to teach myself, so I could fight for myself when no one would fight for me.”

Over the course of her stay at Castle Black, the woman became relaxed around the five men, often leaving her guard a little down. They were the few who never looked at her with desire, mostly curiosity, and would go out of their way to ask if she were alright. It was obvious they were intimidated, but they respected her with them admiring her combat skills.

Most of the nights, she found herself with Sam and Gilly in the library where the young man would help them read. Her reading wasn’t the best having not grown up in a noble lifestyle, but she could make out some words to get the overall message of a sentence.

To humiliate both of them, Thorne had Jon and Y/N go against each other when training just the day after she had arrived. All around were shocked. The best fighter and swordsman at Castle Black up against the daughter of their acting Lord Commander, who they thought probably had never picked up a sword in her life.

Boy were they surprised.

Jon had trouble keeping up with Y/N, but managed overall until she finally disarmed him. Thorne was speechless, his face completely stunned when it was finished. Many of the brothers mirroring his expression. Glaring at Jon briefly, he turned his attention to the smug woman. “Where the fuck did you learn how to fight?”

Dropping the sword to the ground with a glare, “You figure out ways to entertain yourself when you’re bored.” Not waiting to be dismissed, she was gone from the courtyard before Thorne could give a witty response. Eyes were on her until she disappeared, and then they all directed back to Thorne. Many trying to bit back laughs at the strong mans expression.

Thorne was holding back his anger, pissed to have been on the opposite end of what he was trying to impose. Noticing the look of the men around him made it more agitating. “What the fuck are you cocksuckers looking at?! Pick up yer sword and get back to training.”

Whether he was impressed by Y/N or not he’d never admit, although he wouldn’t deny he felt some type of pleasure seeing Jon Snow get disarmed and thrown to the ground by a girl nonetheless.

When Jon was summoned by Thorne when everyone was eating, minus Y/N and Gilly since Thorne disproved of them dining with the brothers, he was allowed permission to lead a raid against the mutiny at Craster’s Keep. The condition though was it was to be with volunteers only. The young man surprised Thorne by asking if Y/N could join them in the conquest. The two having talked about it earlier in the day and Y/N telling him she wanted to help.

“Why the fuck would you want to take her?”

“She’s an excellent swordswoman.--”

“She’s never been in combat and she’s a woman. She’s no brother of the Night’s Watch.”

“And yet she has proven to be a better fighter than any other brother here.” Jon defended. He glanced briefly to the men at the high table, “She even managed to disarm me.”

Thorne looked smug, “Are you sure you didn’t just let her disarm you?” Jon straightened his poster.

“When have you ever known me to let one one overpower me. She disarmed me. Rightfully so.”

Alliser scoffed, Janos beside him following in suit. “I’ll tell you what Snow, I’ll allow Y/N to go with you, but if she dies then that’s on yours and hers stupidity. I won’t take the blame for.”

Jon was clenching his fists behind him, willing himself to keep a calm demeanor. “Thank you, Ser Alliser.”

Of all things the mutineers expected when the Night’s Watch came for them, not once did it come across their minds that their former brothers would be accompanied by a woman.

“What the fuc---.” Poor guy never got to finish his sentence for his throat was met with Y/N’s knife. Screams ignited the keep, the women hostage running in all directions trying to find their sisters and the mutineers going head to head with the brothers. Y/N dodged the attacks of those who sought her out, although she did take a hit or two.

Her face had become bloodied when one of the mutineers got a good punch to her mouth, but Y/N managed to blind him by spitting blood in his face. This gave her enough time to drive her knife into his heart, his body falling limp to the ground.

Edd was keeping a close eye on her, as was Gren and Jon. They were all putting in all their might against their opponents, blood spewing and groans emitting.

Finally after what felt like hours, the fighting seized with Jon exiting the cabin while Gren and Y/N finished off the last mutineer. Edd had retrieved the bodies of the fallen brothers, Locke being among them.

“There’s no way one of the mutineers did that to him,” She cringed away from his broken neck, her eyes meeting Edd’s for a brief moment. His ears turned slightly red, snapping his head away from her.

There was no lie Y/N was an attractive woman. Everything about her was, from her looks, to her intelligence, wit, and especially her skills. The more the two talked, either when doing duties or at dinner with Jon and the others, he would feel his heart speed up whenever she looked at him or spoke directly too him.

It didn’t take much for him to realize what he was feeling.

‘Leave it to me to fall for Thorne’s daughter of all people,’ he thought, ‘It’s as if I wanted Thorne to be the one to kill me after all.’

Alliser never spared Y/N a glance when they returned, and the woman had her glare burning into his back when he walked away. There wasn’t much time before the Wildlings would attack, and Y/N was frustrated by how her father was acting towards her knowing they could die soon.

It was nightfall when Edd found her seated by the fire in mess hall, a cup of what was most likely ale in her hand. The man was looking for Jon and Sam, expecting them to be there since they were not in the library and Edd found himself startled when he met her eyes after she jumped by the sound of the door opening.

“Sorry,” he stuttered, “I thought Jon and Sam would be in here.” Edd noticed her turn her head away from him, hand going to her face and Edd swore he heard a sniffle.

“It’s alright,” her voice was hoarse, “Last I saw they were heading to the top,” another sniffle, Y/N shook her head, “They are probably still there.” Her gaze returned to the fire, which she was awfully close too. It allowed her face to be illuminated in the otherwise dark room and from where Edd was standing, he could see remanence of tear streaks on her face.

There was an awkward silence, Edd cursing in his head for not knowing whether he should just leave her be or ask if she were alright. Either decision could have an unpleasant outcome, and the man slowly closed the door that had been open since he first entered the room.

“Are you alright?” He tried to give a genuine tone as best as he could while still being cautious. The last thing he wanted was to offend and make her even more upset.

Her shoulders rose ever so slightly, before slumping down, a sigh leaving her lips. “I’m just exhausted,” the woman admitted, “Over everything. I should’ve never came here, Edd. I was a fool to think he would change.”

Edd was shocked at how open she was being. Y/N had kept a lot about herself and the relationship she had with Thorne private. “Thorne’s an ass and I feel sorry you had to have him as a father.”

“Father,” she scoffed, eyes closing briefly, “He doesn’t deserve such a title. He was never a father, and I’m just a silly girl who yearned for him to become one. Once my mother had enough money to handle me on her own he stopped showing up. That was about a year or two before the rebellion. I didn’t know he took the black until years later, seemingly thinking he died in battle.”

By now Edd had made his way toward Y/N, taking a seat next to her in front of the hearth. She passed him her cup of ale, and he took it in his hands before sipping it. “You’re not silly to want your parents love and affection,” he told her, “even if they are undeserving of it.”

She looked to the ground, playing with the laces of her boots, “Doesn’t make it any less painful.” Edd sighed, unsure of what to say that could make it better for her.

“It’s his loss you know,” he muttered, taking another swig of the ale, “Thorne is lucky to have someone like you as a daughter, he is just too bloody blind to see it.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Edd.”

“It’s not a lie,” he turned his head toward her, “You’re smart, witty, you are probably the most skilled and best fighter we have in this damn castle. Seven Hells, you brought Jon down to the ground!” He exclaimed causing Y/N to lift her head, a small smile coming to her lips at the memory.

“And boy do you have a temper,” Edd grumbled and Y/N lifted her eyebrow at him. He lifted his hands in surrender, “Let’s not forget you threatened to gouge mine and the others eyes out cause we were staring at you.”

This made her chuckle, the sound making Edd relax. “Listen, Y/N, Thorne is a fool to not see how blessed he is to have you as his daughter. Will he ever change? I can’t say I see it happening,” he admitted and he cursed at himself when she frowned, “but you shouldn’t waste your time trying to prove yourself to him.”

Silence overtook them, and Edd feared his words may have offended her. A lone tear had fell from her eyes, Y/N moving to brush it away. To his surprise, the frown on her face curled up into a small but sad smile. “You’re right, Edd. I shouldn’t prove myself to him anymore that I am worthy of his attention, I know I am worth it and he is just a fool to not acknowledge it.”

Edd felt his own lips curl up, and then a blush overtook him when Y/N leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek. His heart skipped and started to beat at a rapid pace, his entire demeanor becoming flustered.

“Thank you,” she said, “You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since I came here, Edd. I’m grateful by your words and I’m sorry to have brought my mess and problems onto you.”

Edd cursed mentally by how beautiful she looked next to him. The feelings he had developed were hard to ignore, and Edd feared he would not be able to keep them hidden any longer. He prayed to the Gods she didn’t notice how nervous he suddenly was, “I-It’s not a problem, Y-Y/N.”

The waiver in his voice concerned her, especially after how calm and collected he was just moments before. “Are you alright, Edd? Are you cold?” It was late at night and the wind became cooler outside, so naturally Y/N thought the man was in need of warmth.

“No, no, shit.” he cursed, “I-I’m not cold, I’m....,” he trailed off, blushing more and unable to form the words he so badly wanted to say. “I’m just, not use to that.”

“Used to what?” she questioned before it suddenly came to her, “oh the kiss you mean. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I should’ve asked before doing such a thing.” While she remained calm on the outside, Y/N was panicking on the inside.

Over the time in Castle Black, Y/N grew fond of Edd. He was kind to her and treated her with respect despite her threatening them during their first interaction. She found him attractive, and his pessimism and sarcasm often humored her. The feelings towards him were slow, and grew over time, but there was the fear he would reject her being the situation they were in.

She was the acting Lord Commander’s bastard daughter, and he was a sworn member of the Night’s Watch. Acting on any feelings they may have toward each other was a death sentence in itself.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he assured her. Her face turned to an expression he couldn’t quite point out.

“Have you ever kissed a woman before, Edd?” The question took him off guard, ears turning completely red and he avoided her eyes by focusing his attention on the fire in front of them.

“N-no I’ve never,” He expected her to laugh at him, but instead her ungloved hand went to rest on top of his gloved one that was on his knee. The action made him look at them briefly before meeting her eyes.

Y/N’s expression was soft, and her eyes sparkled from the light of the fire. It made Edd blush once more, and she smiled at him. “It could possibly be our last night,” she said in a low, innocent tone, “Would you like to know what it’s like to kiss one?”

At the rate that his heart was beating, Edd was surprised it didn’t explode from his chest. Oh how bad he wanted too, especially with how it really could be their last night alive and he would never get the chance if something were to happen to them. “I-I don’t know, Y/N.” He avoided looking at her.

She would be lying if she said her heart didn’t stung by his words. “I won’t pressure you, Edd. I’m sorry for you if my words made it seem so.” She removed her hand from his, but Edd was quick to grab it again although not too harsh so he didn’t accidently harm her.

“No--fuck. It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/N, believe me I would want nothing more,” his words made her heart speed up, “But I feel something for you, something I know I shouldn’t giving we are in this shit hole and your father could easily have my head for.”

“Edd...”

“I understand if you do not feel the same which is why--.”

“Edd, please stop talking.” His mouth snapped shut and slowly he returned his gaze to her. She scooted closed to him. “You always do the right thing, don’t you?”

Edd nodded. She moved her face so it was right in front of his, and Edd swore she could hear how fast his heart was racing.

“Do me a favor,” she whispered, lips brushing against his. “Do the wrong thing, for once in your life.”

And with that, her lips touched his and Edd leaned in to reciprocate. He kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm, sparks running through him and filling his body with heat. His hand went to her cheek, moving to hold her neck and Edd shuddered when she let out a moan.

“Wow,” he breathed out. She chuckled, pushing him back so he was laying down and crawled on top of him. He wasn’t sure if the heat he was feeling was from him or the fire, but he didn’t care. She toyed at the strings of his clothes, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Wanna keep doing the wrong thing, Edd?”

He nodded, and she began undoing the ties, “someone could walk in?” He told her.

“They’re all asleep,” she replied, “we’ll just have to be quiet. Think you can manage, we don’t want my old man to waltz in do we.” The thought of Thorne walking in both terrified and excited Edd.

“Can you?” He challenged, and his blood flowed down when she smirked at him, the light of the fire giving her a beautiful aura.

“If I make sounds,” she leaned down, her mouth whispering against his, “it just means you’re giving me what I desire.”

#eddison tollett #dolorous edd #Edd Tollett #game of thrones #got #game of thrones imagines #eddison tollett x reader #game of thrones x reader #alliser thorne #alliser thorne imagines #jon snow #got imagines #got fanfic

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Crimson Gods

Pairing: vampire!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: non-con, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of death and suicidal thoughts, allusion to breeding.

Words: 2362.

Summary: Living in the world where most lands are governed by the Noble, ancient vampires who shed human blood simply for their own amusement, you try leading a quiet and secluded life along with your mother. Sadly, you aren’t prepared when a vampire comes to your town.

P.S. When I was younger, I really, really loved Vampire Hunter D. I watched the movie again yesterday, and here’s the result ahahah.

______________

It was way past midnight, but you couldn't force yourself to sleep, tossing and turning in your comfy bed while thinking of your travel tomorrow. You were supposed to leave the town for the first time in years to visit your grandmother who lived in the Northern Frontier Sector, and now you dreamt of how you were going to embrace her, kiss her cheeks despite her scolding you for not behaving properly in public. You hadn't seen her in 7 years. After the incident, you had never even once left the town, and your grandmother could hardly travel so far due to her age. Of course, you kept exchanging letters, but how could a cold letter, though written with great respect, replace a live communication?

While you kept wondering how your encounter would go, all of a sudden it felt cold under your cozy cotton blanket, and you reluctantly got up to take a huge comforter out of your heavy wooden chest. Why was it freezing tonight even with the windows closed? You were just in the middle of September. To be honest, you hardly remembered the last time the weather was so bad as you wrapped a comforter around your trembling shoulders, thinking whether you have to take your winter nightgown instead of light muslin one you were wearing now.

Throwing a glance at your window, you saw the frosted panes and furrowed your brows, refusing to believe it. Dear Lord, you lived in the Western Frontier Sector, not far to the North! Was it really going to snow out of nowhere tonight? As you moved closer to look at an empty street, you realized that a huge cross on top of a building on the other side started crumpling with a disgusting sound as if it were made of paper, not pure silver to protect citizens from the creatures of the night. Several crosses on the buildings down the street had been destroyed, too. Quickly, you looked down only to find the flower beds withering within seconds despite your beautiful roses blooming just a couple of hours ago. Now they all turned black.

You stilled on the spot, unable to believe your eyes and covering your ears from that horrifying noise. You had only seen something like that once, and it was the time when most villagers had already been dead, turned into beasts without a soul who craved for blood as much as their masters did. That night you had lost your beloved father as you fled your house in a rush, just a little child back then, and, once you arrived in the town, had never even once left your new home.

The crumpled crosses, dead flowers and a sudden temperature drop could mean only one thing: a vampire had come to the town. It wasn't some upyr, oh no, it was one of the Nobles, maybe even an Elder if you were unlucky.

Dear Lord, what a Noble wanted in a peaceful town like this? There were neither treasures nor mechanisms of the ancient, nothing that could potentially interest a Noble. Except that they might be simply eager to shed human blood for their own amusement...

Before you screamed at the top of your voice to wake up everyone around, you heard the sound of a large mirror in your room breaking, and then felt somebody's strong grip on your throat despite no one being in front of you. The world turned black before you uttered a single word.

_______________

Moving a heavy crimson curtain a bit so you could look out the window, you gasped, watching the corn fields far beneath looking like neat pieces of cloth. The view was incredible! You had never seen anything like this before, though you certainly didn't remember travelling in such fine carriage ever before either. It was truly stunning, made of black steel, shining in the sunlight as if it only been made yesterday. Steven laughed when you said it out loud, explaining that this carriage had been more than a century old. Apparently, the Nobility's carriages were miraculous since you couldn't find even a single scratch on the surface.

"Be careful, sweetheart." The man behind your back said, gently bringing you closer to him and further from the window, curtain falling back and hiding the two of you from the outside world. "Night does not fall yet."

"Forgive me my curiosity. I have never seen anything as magnificent." You smiled sheepishly at the handsome blonde-haired, blue-eyed man in a long black cape with red lining.

He let out a low chuckle, taking your hand and kissing it briefly while you forgot how to breathe for a second, deeply embarrassing by such outpouring display of affection. You lead a rather quiet secluded life in the town, pretty much never being around men of your age: your mother was going to choose a respectable husband for you herself, so you never worried about it before. Now, however, you felt ashamed for being so close to a man despite loving him dearly. Oh, what would your mother say if she saw you now? Wouldn't she be worried? Would she approve of your marriage to a No-

You blinked as you stared at the handsome man's pale face, feeling all your worries fading away. As long as you stayed with the love of your life, nothing else mattered, right?

"If that is what you wish, we will travel by air a lot more right after I present you at Western Frontier Court, sweetheart." His deep, silky voice made you let out a nervous chuckle as you felt your cheeks growing hot. "My, aren't you adorable?"

"Please, Steven, stop it!" You furrowed your brows as he grinned at you, baring his sharp fangs you paid no attention to. "I cannot believe I am getting married to you so soon. It feels... strange. A little unsettling."

"And why is that?" There was some wariness to his voice.

"It's just... I have never imagined myself being married to anyone. Surely, I thought of having a family at some point, but it was so distant. I have never even pictured myself close to a man, let alone a High Lord like you." You admitted honestly, biting your lower lip and averting his gaze. "You have never been married before, too, have you? Aren't you frightened even the slightest bit?"

"A little." He answered too soon, yet you disregarded it as well. "But I have no doubts we will make a good couple, sweetheart. I will cherish you like no other man ever would."

Embarrassed to the point your face was on fire, you decided to drop it, not knowing how a nobleman like Steven Grant Rogers could have an audacity to say such things. He was completely shameless! You hoped he was going to be more reserved while presenting you at court; you pictured your grandmother fainting if she heard him speaking like now.

What was Western Frontier Court like? You had never been there, not than any human ever could: as far as you knew, not even all vampires could serve the Nobility living in the high castle surrounded by mountains. You heard its peaks were covered with snow all year round.

"Have the king ever visited your castle?" You suddenly asked, back to your curious self.

Steven's face became even paler. "He did on several occasions, but it was a long time ago way before I was even born. I have only seen him once, and I do not think I will ever forget this encounter."

"Oh, is he as frightening as the legends say?"

"You cannot describe it with words, sweetheart. But do not be worried, he had been asleep for more than a thousand years now, and he surely won't wake up just to attend some Noble's marriage." A faint smile twisted Steven's lips as he drop a soft kiss to your forehead. "Actually, please do not refer to him as a king. The Nobles call him the Great One."

"Oh, I see. Thank you." Nodding, you turned your face back to the window covered by a crimson curtain, biting your lip again. "Can I watch the sunset a little? I won't be long, I promise."

"As you wish, sweetheart. Please come back to me once you are done, it is going to be a long night."

Gesturing to the large black coffin laying in the middle of your carriage, the man brushed his cold soft lips against your cheek and got up from his seat, smiling at you watching him. You remembered being very unhappy once you learnt there was only one coffin: you had never thought you would lay close to your betrothed with your head on his chest before your marriage. How terribly bold it was of Steven to make you sleep so close to him! However, you were content he had never even once tried touching you inappropriately, always treating you with respect: he said he admired your purity and innocence while not many Noble women were bothered by them.

Once he got inside the coffin, you lifted the curtain again, squinted as rays of bright light pierced the darkness of the carriage. Oh, how incredibly beautiful was the sunset in front of you. You had seldom seen such lovely sight as this. Would you miss the sun once you reach the high castle? You surely would, you thought. Hopefully, your betrothed would keep his promise to travel with you, and when he fell asleep during the day, you would walk in daylight all by yourself.

As you kept staring at the bright sky coloured in orange and pink, all of a sudden you thought why did you have to live in the high castle with Steven while your home was far away from the white mountains, in a little human town where you spent the last several years. Oh, right, you were engaged to the Overseer of the Western Frontier Sector, the highest Noble guarding the lands where you were born and raised. He was a peerless warrior and a fierce leader, a vampire respected by other Nobles.

A vampire? Steven was a vampire? Why would you be engaged to a vampire, let alone the Noble? The Overseer of the lands you were born and raised, the one who had taken advantage of those poor humans living in the Western Frontier Sector and let other Nobles ravage your cities and villages, destroying everything on their way.

You were engaged to the vampire overlord, a ruthless, cold-blooded being who could wipe out every human in these lands if he desired so. No, he was not your betrothed, the man you promised to marry willingly. He was the one who kidnapped you from your own bed at night, casting some spell over you to make you forget who you were.

You clamped a hand around your mouth to stop the pathetic sounds you were making as you cried, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Dear Lord, why was the Overseeker doing it to you? What could he gain from this cruel game? Seemingly nothing, except for having some fun with a silly human girl. But that what the Nobles were doing once they got bored, wasn't it? No, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction, you thought, happy you were given a chance to escape - even if it cost you your own life, it was still for the better.

"The Overseeker of the Southern Frontier Sector did, not that I expect you to know. Now, please, come back here. You had enough time watching the sunset."

You couldn't believe your eyes, watching him say it with such confidence. Was he willing to keep playing his twisted game even when his sweet facade fell?

"Why do you pretend as if my death matters to you? You will kill me soon anyway. Does it bring you so much pleasure to murder one more pathetic human?"

"I won't kill you, sweetheart. It has never been my intention."

There was something to his voice, some emotion you struggled to describe that made you feel bitter and regretful. Was it all truly going to end like this? You were so young, supposed to have your whole life ahead of you, now faced with a choice to either let a vampire consume you or jump out the carriage and fell to your death.

"Than what was it? I assume you have been living for more than thousands of years. Aren't you a little too old for playing these games still?" You chocked on a sob, barely containing your tears as you trembled in front of the Overseeker.

"I am not playing a game." He admitted tiredly, suddenly taking the black glove off his hand. "All I wish for is a loving wife who can bear my children and bring peace to my lands. I have been wandering human cities for a great while before I found you, strong enough to carry a dampiel after a few genetic enhancements. Please, do not struggle. I have not come to make you suffer eternal torment."

For a couple of seconds you stared at him with your mouth slightly open, unable to utter a single word. You had expected the vampire to say anything but this. Was it still a game? Now you hoped it was because even being drained till the last drop of blood was better than carrying a dampiel, a child of both vampire and human, feared and loathed greatly by both races. When you recovered, however, you quickly turned the door handle and pushed the door, willing to wait no longer.

But the door did not give to your pressure. To your horror, it stayed still as if it were a solid piece of steel.

Feeling the iron grip of the Overseeker's fingers on you shoulder, you yelped as he dragged you back to his coffin with force, closing the lid before you had a chance to escape. The next second his fingers were on your neck, suffocating you before you lost consciousness just like the night when Steven Grant Rogers kidnapped his human beloved.

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