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girl4music · 6 months

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WILLOW: “It's horrible! That's me as a vampire? I'm so evil and... skanky. And I think I'm kinda gay.”

BUFFY: “Willow, just remember, a vampire's personality has nothing to do with the person it was.”

ANGEL: “Well, actually...

*gets a look from Buffy*

That's a good point.”

Can we discuss how ‘Doppelgängland’ presents a study case for Vampire Willow being like human Willow if Willow was suddenly missing an internal moral compass? I talk about Willow’s repressed sadism a lot and some overwhelming evidence for it is that there exists a vampire version of her in canon that’s a literal sadist and is just as evil as Angelus is. That enjoys inflicting torture and pain purely for fun. That has a good old time being indisputably sadistic.

Dark Willow - even though she has a soul and is human - thrives in the killing and the torturing of Warren and Rack. Yeah, she’s corrupted by black magic and feels nothing but vengeance, anger and hate. And yes, the people she does end up actually killing deserved it. But the point is that this is what she can be like even when HUMAN, even when ENSOULED. So Vampire Willow is interesting because that’s a Willow that isn’t either human or ensouled and how sadistic and evil she can be without an internal moral compass and without her humanity is reminiscent of Dark Willow.

And so I can’t help thinking that maybe that vampire has nothing to do with the demon that “possesses” Willow. Maybe the reason why that particular vampire is “so evil… and skanky… and kinda gay” is because that’s the human that the vampire is informed by. That it’s because it’s Willow why Vampire Willow is like that.

And I know it’s just for jokes why they had Angel start to say what he did in response to Buffy’s comment to Willow in trying to reassure her that that vampire is just an evil demon and has no bearing on her character at all… But I really wish we had got to hear what he was going to say. If I had to guess I feel like he was going to say something like “Well, actually… that’s not quite true. A vampire’s personality is still informed by the human that died even if it is not the person it was.”

But with Vampire Willow… the question is just how much of alternative human Willow informs her and how much is really just a demon from the ethers “possessing” the body of the alternative human Willow that died? You would think adding this particular situation on to the soul lore would be in support for it being demon possession… but I’m not so sure that that is so when much of the Willow that we see later on is what we get with Vampire Willow.

See for me, ‘Doppelgängland’ comes off more as foreshadowing than it does in being an addition to the soul lore that provides evidence for the perspective that vampires are a demon possession of a dead human because it does the entire opposite in telling and showing that to be the truth as they give us a significant look in to what Willow would be like both without a soul and without her humanity - which for me don’t mean the same thing because I don’t think of the soul that way. See, I have a very specific understanding of what a “soul” is and I don’t think of it as the human itself or as the person itself. I think of it as an internal moral compass for the human or person.

Which then further means if that human or person is suddenly bit by a vampire and dies - it doesn’t come back as a vampire because its body is possessed by a demon. It comes back as a vampire because IT IS a demon. A newly created or newly born demon in a human body that is informed by both the demon AND the human respectively. That’s why and how it can’t be a possession by the demon or human because possession means it’s an entirely different entity from the demon or human. And a vampire isn’t because it’s a half-breed of both the demon and the human. So it is still the same entity that died all the while becoming a newly created entity. It is, essentially, a resurrection or reincarnation of the human or person that died but just with personality traits and qualities that are only evil and sadistic in nature depending on what the human or person could be capable of that the newly created demon exacerbates in them with abandon.

Vampire Willow is a very interesting study case for this because what she is depends on whether human Willow can be capable of being that evil and sadistic all the while being a human. And… she can… as Dark Willow eventually and inevitably shows us. Yes, for her to get there it required the themes of power corruption, addiction and vengeance… but the point is that she was still capable of it. And, for me, it only just proves that if somebody that pure can become that evil and sadistic as a human… then so could we all.

Vampire Willow is not a study case for vampires being entirely different from their human counterparts. It’s a study case for learning that they are or can be alike if they’re missing an internal moral compass and therefore their emotions or desires were not being repressed. Vampire Willow is an uninhibited entity. They make that very clear in the writing when using it in juxtaposition with human Willow’s inhibitedness. Willow even acknowledges that both her and Vampire Willow feel like the world’s “no fun” anymore but then recedes that acknowledgement in the final scene, realizing that being “reliable dog geyser person” isn’t so bad. That she could actually be the entire opposite to that and she never wants to be like Vampire Willow if this is the pain and damage that she could cause.

So Vampire Willow truly is what we would get if human Willow was completely free of all constraints on her good character. If she suddenly believed that she didn’t need to be the good person she always is and could do what she wants without any thought for the risks or consequences of her actions and choices and without any concern for any pain or damage she may cause through her carelessness and recklessness. It is very much in her capability and nature to become what we see of Vampire Willow’s appearance. And I think that if Xander had not have been able to save Willow in ‘Grave’, this is precisely what Willow would have become. Not simply just Dark Willow. But Evil and Sadistic Willow. She would have lost her humanity.

Fortunately… she still possessed an internal moral compass and so her humanity won over the battle and Vampire Willow remained just a fantasy in fan-fiction. But it does give me pause to realize that Willow’s selfishness, arrogance and entitlement in Season 6 would still inform everything that Vampire Willow is precisely because she is the human psyche for her.

#buffy the vampire slayer #dopplegangland #willow rosenberg #vampire willow #dark willow #alyson hannigan #evil #repressed sadism #study case #character study analysis #characterization #character representation #character development

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lexusiswriting · 1 month

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A love you deserve (Ricky Olson) - Part 7 of ?

Hi guys!

I think this story will have 2 more parts, but we'll have to see. If you have any requests, you can send them for future fanfics or one-shots. <3

Warnings: none.

Taggs: @multifandomcrackhead, @nicelittlenightmares, @roll-tide-babe89, @skulliecadaver-blog, @21-century-tae, @melissa-anderson, @abiomens, @w743, @insanitywulf, @awkwardalex, @philomenie

Requests: OPEN.

______________________________

The last week of the tour was pure torture. I refused to get out of my bed if it didn’t imply getting on the stage, that was my only exception. Chris came to see me every day, trying to know what happened that changed me so drastically. Even at that moment, I kept the secret as I promised - not one soul would ever hear it from me.

After we ended our thing, I thought I would suffer in peace, but that was not the case. Apparently, someone saw us one night, leaving Ricky’s bus. That person took pictures of us and posted them online. I cried even more when I saw them. We were holding hands and smiling at each other. The photo in which we were kissing destroyed me the most. His arms were on my waist, making sure there was no space left between us, while my hands were in his hair. Even while kissing we were both smiling and everyone thought we were very much in love. I wished this was the case.

While we were trying to put out the fire separately, because I refused to talk to him, Ben decided to make this whole thing even worse for me. One hour after the pictures were posted, he made a post on a social platform about me. He called me all sort of names, saying that Ricky was the one to end our relationship and promised that things will not stay this way. I knew what he can do when he is jealous, but I was sure this time it was only a strategy to clear his name in case I would decide to tell the world the real reason behind our breakup.

I was still looking at those pictures when I heard Chris came to visit me for the last time.

“How are you feeling?”

“Nothing changed. Maybe a little bit worse than before.”

“You can’t stay like this forever.”

“I know. I just need to get out of here.”

“Well, this is the last day. And as the tradition goes, we start with a party and we will end with one as well.”

“I’m not coming. And you’ll never change my mind.”

“Believe me, it will help you. I’ll make sure Ricky will be nowhere near you.”

“I said no, Chris. We have one more concert in an hour. After that, we will go home. I already talked with the boys and they said this is the best thing to do as well.”

He sighed and looked at the ground. I knew he was trying his best to help me, but no one could do anything at this moment.

“Alright, I won’t try to convince you anymore. I promise I will come to see you when I’ll be in L.A.. But you have to promise me the next time I’ll see you, you’ll be happier.”

“That I can promise.”

I gave him a hug, thanking him for being my best friend.

____________________________________

Ricky’s point of view

Even though he denied it every time, I know Chris hates me. I broke Lexus’s heart and for that, he will never forgive me. He started a fight after the pictures were posted and demanded to know everything. Unfortunately, I had to break my promise and tell him everything. I couldn’t help her now, but Chris could, only if he knew the truth. Every time I would ask how she was feeling, he would respond that it was not my business. I wished to be that easy to ask her myself, but Xander acted like her personal bodyguard.

While I was walking to the party, I realized how afraid I was to see her. Maybe it will make her even more upset, or she will pretend I do not exist at all. I don’t know which is worse.

I got a drink and found a free table, searching the place for Lexus. I really hope Chris convinced her to come, under the pretext that she will feel better. Not seeing her for a week started something in me that I could not explain.

After some time, I saw Chris approaching me, but he was alone.

“Congratulations, Ricky. I’ve never seen Lexus so heartbroken before.”

“Where is she? Maybe I can try to talk to her and …”

“She just left. Being here made her feel worse, so she decided to go home.”

I had enough time for 7 days to apologize to her and I didn’t. Now she is gone and who knows when I’ll see her again.

#ricky horror #ricky olson #ricky olson x reader #ricky olson fanfic #ricky horror imagine #justin morrow #miw #ryan sitkowski #vinny mauro #chris motionless #motionless in white #motionless in white fanfic #miw band #miw fanfic #miw imagine

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apocalypticavolition · 2 months

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10 Characters 10 Fandoms 10 5 Tags

Tagged by @iliiuan

Rules: choose 10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms -- no double dipping! Then tag friends or mutuals to complete the game as well.

(Oh god oh god picking favorites what did I do to deserve this???)

Top 10

Rand al'Thor of Wheel of Time - I know that like, virtually every major character in the series has a bigger following than this boy, but dammit people he's just a regular dude on an epic quest that takes and takes and takes until there's nothing left but it's not done taking yet. I love every POV section he gets and every bit of suffering he has to go through.

Uncle Iroh of Avatar: The Last Airbender - Normally it's your Sokkas or your Zukos or your Tophs who would grab me but in a cast of shining stars Uncle Iroh is a particularly radiant entry. I would die for this man. He makes me feel I'm not drinking enough tea.

Koshirou "Izzy" Izumi of Digimon Adventure - I think part of the reason Digimon stuck with me all this time is the belief the first series had (and really the shows as a whole, but especially the first one) that none of the kids were bad or flawed for being who they were, only for how they might be hurting the others. Izzy was more comfortable with computers than people but his skill set kept the kids alive on plenty of occasions and he was never any less part of the gang for being a nerd except the times he hyperfixated while the others were in need.

Karkat Vantas of Homestuck - Homestuck was... Yeah. That sure was a thing, huh? But Karkat's constant shouting and cross-temporal feud with his past and future selves was endearing, as was his obvious hate-crush on the protagonist that was resolved in the most embarrassing way possible. And frankly, his continued disbelief at the late-comic antics more than made up for how shitty the late parts of the comic were.

Mercymorn of The Locked Tomb - Virtually every character in these books is iconic, but Mercymorn, the Saint of Joy is the sort of character who would have hundreds of gif sets of her if only she existed in a visual medium. Immortality and waging an impossible war give her nothing but contempt for our heroes, our villains, and frankly anyone else she's in the room with.

Jak of Jak & Daxter - I think I just have a thing for dudes who get tortured beyond all reason and struggle between their innate heroism and the corruption that's been burned into them by outside forces. Also he gets some cool guns, you know? Can't argue with cool guns.

Garak of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - An exiled spy doomed to spend his days in a port/fortress owned by one set of enemies and administrated by another? A wide array of possible backstories, each one equally plausible except for how they all contradict each other? A slow onset of madness from the grief and isolation kept at bay only through chemical abuse and a homoerotic relationship with the galaxy's smartest idiot? And he's not even a main character!

Sheila "Dr. Girlfriend" / "Mrs. the Monarch" Fitzcarraldo of The Venture Brothers - Sheila starts out a complete joke (but then, who isn't a complete joke in her series) but grows into one of the most competent and compelling members of the cast. I'm still not quite sure what she sees in the Monarch but I enjoy how she's both fully supportive of his goals while still set very much on her own thing with the Guild of Calamitous Intent as well. I hope the show comes back so we can see what she gets up to next, or at least see her in that pillbox hat one more time.

Max of Sam & Max - Hyperkinetic lagomorphs are always a plus, and I enjoy the way he's pure id in a franchise where superegos are already in short supply. I'm gonna hafta replay the games one of these days.

Susan Ivanova of Babylon 5 - Learn the Babylon 5 mantra: Ivanova is always right. I will listen to Ivanova. I will not ignore Ivanova's recommendations. Ivanova is God. I have nothing else to say on this particular front.

@checkoutmybookshelf

@notmuchtoconceal

@butterflydm

@mashithamel

@bashircore

#favorite characters

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phoenix-reburned · 10 months

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I think the most damning thing to my faith and what really started my deconstruction was the concept of a loving god and hell.

It's stated that we are made in the image of god, meaning that god SHOULD have similar morals as me, obviously with some differences because sin nature and he's y'know GOD. I am an extremely empathetic person. So empathetic, that I spent quarantine in a near-constant state of panic, dread, depression, and pure terror for every person I saw on TV, at school, hell even at church. The idea of anyone ever being damned to hell literally caused me to become physically sick. I was unable to function for a month and a half straight. I had renewed my faith and interest in church because I was scared of hell, and it led to this horrible state of terror I was trapped in.

If I, a mere human with a fraction of god's love and empathy, could be driven to this sort of state over just the idea of hell, how could god be okay at all with anyone going there? How could he pick and choose what creation of his would be saved? Some people would say that it was necessary, that it was the wages of sin, that we deserved it. But if god made the rules, why would he make them in such a cruel way? Why would he actively enforce a system, that he created, that meant a majority of his creation would be tortured for eternity? He could have never left the tree in the garden, or simply gotten rid of sin.

And some people would say that we send ourselves to hell. If I was a parent and my kid wanted to touch a hot stove, my first response would be to take them away and turn off the stove so they didn't get hurt. Even if they got upset at me for it, even if they disrespected me for it. The safety and well-being of my child would matter more than any petty actions they did in anger. Plus, punishment should ALWAYS be corrective. If hell functioned like purgatory did I wouldn't have an issue. But it doesn't. It's only function is to hurt. What kind of petty dick do you have to be to torture someone because they either didn't know you existed or made a wrong choice? When my siblings didn't listen to me and got hurt my first response was to help them, not hurt them. And those aren't even my kids.

"But freewill-" He's GOD. He can create a world with freewill without hell or sin. He's fucking GOD and this is what he decided was the best plan. He could have just chosen to forgive everyone but he didn't. He sacrificed himself to save us from his own wrath. The shit god says in the bible aligns with the same phrases narcissists use to manipulate their victims. And don't even get me started on the copious amounts of murder he either directly causes or endorses, or the horrible things he legalized in the old testament.

And you can't just use the "sin goes against gods nature" bullshit on me either. He's literally god. He shouldn't be confined by anything if he's truly all powerful. I understand if sin is a problem but he also allowed it to happen in the first place, does nothing to stop it, and literally let the equivalent of a 5 year old decide whether or not his creation would be tortured for eternity. If sin is against his nature he could simply will it out of existence, but he either chooses not to or can't. Either of these would actively contradict two of the qualities he claims to possess.

And no, his response to someone wanting to be away from him should not be eternal torment. Even if you try and justify it by saying he's respecting our wishes, he can do that without deliberately causing actual suffering and agony for eternity.

I did the religious thing for 18 years, and this was just the first realization that woke me up to the flaws of Chr*st*an*ty. Any chr*st*ans that wanna try and preach to me or use this to try and refute my claims, just don't. I've heard every excuse in the book (literally) and did months and MONTHS of research on topics like this to try and convince myself that god was real. I desperately wanted to believe because I didn't want to leave the faith. But the more I researched this and other topics the more I realized how false so much of the religion is.

Sorry if this doesn't make sense or I'm missing stuff, it's late at night and I just needed to get this outta my head. Feel free to add your own thoughts about it here. I know others have definitely explained this much better than I have but I've spent a lot of time this week looking at exvangelical stuff and I'm in my feels about it lol

#e rambles #exvangelical #deconstructing christianity #deconstructing religion #deconstruction #deconstructed club #religion #religion tw #ask to tag #i fr dont want a bunch of religious peeps preacbing to me #its why i censored the word #long post

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years

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pinnie my boyfriend broke up with me because he fell “out of love” with me. I still love him very dearly and I’m not feel feeling too good, could I get some hurt/comfort from the clergy boys if it’s not too much trouble? your art and stories have really helped a lot thank you.

[Laughs in "too insecure and alert to ever get in a relationship". But no seriously, sorry to hear that. I hope it was at least a smooth conclusion. Also, I shoved all of them in here.]

Oh man. See, these monsters are generally scummy and opportunistic, they're not someone you want to reach out to for comfort. Because it won't be genuine. Chances are a good portion of them would have a hand in at least ruining any relationship you might have had. If not outright killing your partner, which is, without a doubt, what most want to do.

Breg does not know how to comfort you during this time, because he generally sees you breaking up as a great thing! It means less work for him! Do you wanna go somewhere? Let's celebrate!

Fasma will offer you drinks, because that's how he copes. Though, that night, he'll be drinking in victory. Your ex-lover's going to appear somewhere with a bullet between their eyes but ssshhh- Just drink.

Morell thinks you're silly! It's actually hard to take you seriously even if you aren't one of the pigs in his kitchen. What're you on about? ex-partner? That pathetic little thing? Pumpkin, you've been Morell's ever since he laid a hand on ya, that right there is just his next pig.

Gallon is also another monster who will offer you drinks, and endless conversation. See, the topic may hurt you, but Gallon wants to pry. Both to find everything he can about the person he's going to make have an "accidental death" and to get you vulnerable enough that you'll lean on him for all the comfort you need.

Fank-e goes so silent when you mention a partner that you might get scared. Until he start blabbering again. Hahah, that's so dumb, lol! You're BFFs, who cares about that loser?! If he fell off the face of the Earth, no one would care. Hey hey, do you want matching bracelets? Fank-e will help throw out all the ugly junk your ex gave you!

Vinnel is likely to hurt you purely for not being told you were in a relationship to begin with. It's ugly and impulsive and he's going to fetch your ex wherever they are to rend them in pieces for the viewing pleasure of all sickfucks in The Clergy. Mostly his. He brings their teeth back for you. Smile, Vinnel threw out the trash for you!

Santi has not stopped laughing. He knows it's insensitive but- Partner?? You?? Oh, you poor thing, not even close. See, you're his human. Whoever that little chucklefuck is? No love, they're gone, might as well never have existed. Oh, do you want to stop by their place and fuck on ther bed? Because that Santi can do!

Grimbly is, without a doubt, going to ruin your ex partner's life somehow. They never deserved you! <3 But you know who does? Grimbly! Because how could he ever fall out of love with the light of his life? Humans are frail and dumb, no offense mommy/daddy, but you deserve the love of someone who will never let go. Till your dying breath, you're his.

Ludwig is actually almost normal about this, almost. He's unnaturally calm, but that's only a ruse. Deep down, beneath all the blankets he's piled on you and the junk food you're both scarfing down, he's boiling alive with violent excitement. Because this is the greenlight he was originally not going to wait for. Lud will seriously slaughter your ex, torture them the way he wanted to before. There's nothing to stop him now, not even their pitiful cries.

Mervin will not comfort you at all. See, you deserve this! That's what happens when you reject someone leagues above for a piece of walking shit like that vermin who just dumped you. Does it feel good? No, right? It's humiliating, isn't it? Yeah. Did you learn your lesson? Grovel at his feet and you might still have a chance with Mervin. Your ex? Oh ho, don't worry, they'd make for a lovely skin carpet.

Obie's treating you to a five star restaurant. And don't worry about dressing fancy, you're getting a private booth. Eat all you want, he knows the sensation of rejection like an ugly second skin. See, not to shit on your science, but he thinks that if you had given him a chance, none of this turmoil would be happening now. Oh, him? Nah, he's not hungry, he's saving his appetite for something special...

Nebul is having deep conversations with you about what it was like being with this person, how they made you feel, how you were treated. See, the wraith thinks you've picked someone who never truly loved you. They neglected you. They're immature and selfish, you'd benefit from a lover who has life experience, someone who's above that silly dating game. Don't you want commitment, sweet pearl?

Belo is the living embodiment of "I told you so." Quite like Mervin, he's treating this as a lesson you should take key points from. Mainly that true love is near impossible to find and you shouldn't be tricked by other silly little humans and their pointless words. Second, that you must always trust your guardian angel when he says something is bad for you. Belo warned you dating them was a bad idea! Now he's going to have to punish the two of you. See, this is why you can't be left alone to make your own choices, you need him. Only him.

Patches is screaming internally. Why are you crying?? You didn't see him hang your partner from a tree, did you? Oh. Oh you broke up with them? Wow, so sad. Yeah. Anyhow, you wanna go on horse rides with him? The dullahan found this mare that's so nice and calm, you can totally learn to ride a horse with his guidance, forget about that idiot.

Sybastian really doesn't understand the need to cry, you're confusing yourself, the only reason he never killed them is because you always seemed so upset by the idea. Which is dumb, because you're his mate! Well, now that that's over, he's going to go for a quick hunting trip, and you two can officially consummate your bond later!

Krulu has erased any memory of prior relationships you've had, as well as killed all your ex partners, because he's a petty god and only he can be the one living being to ever have had you.

#Krulu oc #Bregory #Fasma oc #Patches oc #Santi oc #Grimbly oc #Nebul oc #Belo oc #Sybastian oc #Gallon oc #Morell oc #Fank-e oc #Vinnel oc

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strainedcherry · 2 months

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a rough drabble from what i’m working on, just a random thought i needed to get out of my head. not proofread or anything, i wrote this in like 15-30 minutes.

“We both know, this is well deserved,” she looked down at the man on his knees, hand folded in front of her and a stoic expression on her face. “My Lord.” The man gritted his teeth, he wanted nothing more than grab her and never let go. Her voice, god her voice. She could be the death of him -which was the case- she could take his breath and spit on his face as his eyes closed for eternity. She was a mere slave, before he made her his queen, now she was the woman standing in front of his kneeling form. Like a goddess he claimed her to be. The confidence of her, looking down at him as if he wasn’t higher than a bug, an insect to be chewed under her boots. At least that was what seemed to be from outside.

“Do it then, My Queen. Take my head, cut my throat, rip open my chest and compress my heart, it’s already yours. Do you think i would care to be killed by your hands? Your hands that i found the life, the love and a reason to exist, to live. I’m willing to take my punishment, My Queen. But only if it’s by your hands.” he glared at the hangman standing behind her, like a shadow of the promising, painless death. Her fists grabbed the sides of her dress, clenching her fists around the finest silk of the world. She couldn’t do it. How could she kill the only man valued her, loved her, showed her how to live? He was her everything. “My Queen.” the man shifted his weight, itching to get closer to his reason, to her. His broad shoulders stiffened, breathing was a chore when he wasn’t basking in his heaven, her scent. The thought of not having her in his arms with her hair suffocating him was the cruelest torture. His voice was a plea that solely she could understand, solely meant for her.

She wanted to run to him, give up on everything and be his. “No, My Lord. We shall finish it traditionally. A woman like me can’t take one’s life.” she hid behind the excuses of his people, his tradition. The queen needed to be pure. The hangman sharpened his blade, and the man growled. Like a wounded lion, but he was helpless against his cure, his lioness. The woman who hold his life and death between her cherry colored lips. He knew she tasted like cherries too. The most delicious ones. As the hangman stepped closer with his now sharpened blade, the king never broke eye contact with his wife. How could he still see her as his source of life when she was about be his death? It was her lure. He waited until the hangman placed the cold metal against his neck, it felt even colder when she just stared down at him. She had to stop him, why she wasn’t screaming for him to stop, why she wasn’t throwing insults and orders to the man who’s about to have her husband’s head?

She could see the look in his eyes, pleading at her to stop everything, yet his face was cold as ice. She crossed her arms over her chest, oh how graceful she was. In the inside she wanted to break her hands so they wouldn’t reach for him, like a puzzle trying to be complete. A emotion crossed in her gaze, he didn’t knew if it was pity, disgust or love. All of them were a piece to hold on for him, that was how desperate he was.

So the man’s eyes lit up at the opportunity, now or never, he thought as he rose from the cold, stone ground and grabbed the blade out of the shocked hangman, in a heartbeat the blade pierced through his heart and stopped beating after a few pitiful chocked gasps. Her scream filled the room and his bloody fingers gently shushed her by wrapping around her mouth. “You can’t kill The King that easily, my love. And only with one man?” he scoffed, his towering form swallowing her with his shadow as he leaned in. “Impossible, i would only die without a fight, if it’s from your hands.” he gently pulled her hand up to his lips, placing a ghost kiss and leaning his face against her soft palm. He could see her breathing shallowly, and only if he leaned closer he could feel her racing hearth.

#ao3 writer #writblr #writers on tumblr #writer things #writerscommunity #writers and poets #writing #writeblr #it’s 5 am #i need sleep #bye #writing community #writer stuff

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laurfilijames · 1 year

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Words Unspoken

Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Anders Johnson x female reader

Words: 5,888

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Unprotected intercourse. Swearing. Feeeeeeelingssssss.

Summary: You return from your work trip in Dunedin, going to Anders' apartment to find him questioning your relationship, and true feelings are revealed.

A/N: I can't believe this chapter is finally finished! Apparently the last time I had touched it was June 😅 but better late than never!! It's full of feelings and I have always wanted to get this part of their story out for you to read, so without further adieu!

---

Anders sat balanced on the edge of his couch staring out the large window that covered almost the entire outer wall of his living room, the view of downtown Auckland allowing him to be lost in thought.

He hadn’t been able to get his mind off of what Mike said to him the other day, the words echoing in his tortured mind with a cruel determination to be believed; Anders isn't capable of loving anyone other than himself.

“Fucking bastard,” he muttered aloud to his empty apartment, swallowing thickly as that constricted feeling in his throat began to choke him again. The view of the Sky Tower was now blurry, and he blinked a few times as he brought the glass he held to his lips with a hand that shook, his knuckles white from gripping it so tight. The scotch was warm as it slid down, but did nothing to dull the possibility that Mike could be right. He puffed out his cheeks and closed his eyes, his breath expelling forcefully, but rickety out of his lungs, and his head tipped up to the ceiling as he was hounded once again with the reminder of his shortcomings.

For most of the time you had been away, Anders had convinced himself that he might have been falling in love with you, but after seeing Mike, the whole notion seemed ludicrous. He had always been so careful never to bring feelings into any of his relationships.

Until you.

No, he reminded himself again. His hands fidgeted nervously against his glass and his leg bounced up and down, unable to keep himself still. The amount of times he switched back and forth in his mind was turning him insane.

He didn’t know what love really was, that if any of the things he felt for you were in fact the one thing that plagued so many people in a painfully beautiful and risky way. How was he to know? No one had ever declared the terrifying phrase to him before, nor had he ever uttered the words, and he assured himself for what had to be the millionth time this week that being with you was no different. What you had together was fun; perfect as it was, and the sex was the best he could recall in the very long line up of his history. Why chance losing all of that over something that he'd gone his whole life thinking didn't really exist with the exception of a few lucky people?

Still, he couldn’t deny that he found himself longing to hear the words slip from your lips; to have you tell him how you felt, to know how it would feel to have someone genuinely hold that kind of unconditional and shamelessly pure affection toward him.

So many times he thought you would say it, lost in intense moments of passion that had you on the brink, almost confessing it within your moans of rapture, and he knew it would be the sweetest sound he ever heard.

And then you left.

Heat crept up through him, his hurt fueling his anger, and he clenched his teeth together hard as his nostrils flared out in an effort to steady his breathing. His head hung low and he ran his hand up the back of it, reminding himself that whatever you felt for him he didn't deserve, and that he would always be the type of man who refused to succumb to something as frivolous as love.

He sat up straight and drained what was left in his glass, his resolve restored, vowing to never let anyone make him doubt his character again.

Anders didn’t want to lose you but—

The sound of the door opening brought him out of his thoughts, his head whipping around to watch you walk in through his kitchen, a mix of bitterness and relief filling him at the sight of you.

Standing from his perch, he set his empty glass down on the table and made his way over to you, your bright, although hesitant smile matching his own.

“Welcome home,” he said with a hint of sarcasm through a grin that didn't reach his eyes, his dimples barely hidden beneath his stubble. Anders stopped before he completely closed the distance between you, tucking his hands in his pockets as he looked at you suspiciously.

Every muscle in his body tensed as you gingerly took a step toward him, the feel of your hands on his chest causing even more confliction. He could see the pain reflected in your eyes as they danced across where your fingertips lingered, the anguish he knew you would be feeling as clear as the day was, making him want to let you in again as if nothing had happened.

"How was Dunedin?" he asked in a low tone, the roughness of his voice a result of his struggle to stay distant.

You looked up at him quizzically, like you couldn't believe that was the question he was asking out of all the other possible ones, and your head shook slightly when you answered.

"Fine. It was fine. Cold…" you said absently as your fingers moved across his chest that poured heat, like you were contrasting the iciness of his current demeanor to the temperature that radiated from him rather than the difference of weather between Dunedin and Auckland. The sensation of your skin gently touching his was like torture, and it took everything in him not to rip your hands off of him.

Anders sighed through his nose and nodded his head slowly. "Good."

He felt like each time he opened his mouth, everything he had felt through the week would come spewing out, and he was determined not to disclose those flaws to you.

"How are you?" you dared ask, and all Anders could do was laugh in disbelief and shake his head. He couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye, his gaze instead focused on your hands that remained timidly on his chest.

"Absolutely perfect."

"Anders…" you pleaded, moving your head to try to meet his eyes, obviously seeing through the bullshit of his words.

"What?" he snapped, finally looking at you, his veil quick to fall and reveal the fury he wasn't very good at concealing.

"I'm sorry."

Your apology hit him like that arrow did Axl, piercing through the wall he built back up only to have it crumble down so easily, exposing his pain piece by piece. He huffed out another small laugh, his eyes darting to the side in fear that if he continued to look at you he would simply forgive you without hesitation.

He wanted to stay mad. He was furious.

His hands moved to cover his face and he swore through them, feeling so torn and deranged. He felt your hands drop from his body, and the loss of contact suddenly stung more than anything else had. His hands automatically reached for yours again, pulling you back toward him, and his eyes flickered back and forth between yours and your lips. Before he could think about what he was doing, Anders covered your mouth with his, demanding your next apology in the form of a kiss.

He was weak, Anders thought, his hands roaming your form that was ingrained in his memory and to his touch, the feel of you against him imprinted on him for eternity and quick to distract him from his earlier decision. With each pass of your tongue over his, he became more and more lured in, wanting to abolish his pain and focus on how good you made him feel and how much he knew he needed you. It was moments like this he could swear you were a goddess, the power you held outweighing the influence his own could ever have.

You hummed against him, bringing him out of his haze, his body betraying the very thing his mind was trying to prevent from happening.

Eventually you parted, both of you needing to resurface for air, drowning in each other but so desperately not wanting to stop.

Be mad, he reminded himself, but it was no use.

He had felt like a house of cards all week; the threat of toppling down from a simple pass of air looming dangerously, leaving him vulnerable and unsteady on his own. Being in your presence again reinforced him and gave him strength, the taste of your lips lingering on his awakening all the reasons why his mind could never win against his heart.

You stood staring at Anders for a moment, sharing panting breaths, your lips already feeling raw from his kiss. Was it possible his eyes had turned even bluer since the last time you saw him?

"I missed you,” he said in a hoarse whisper, the words sounding strangled, almost as if he was scared of telling you something as meaningful as that.

“I missed you, too,” you told him, observing the sincere, but struggling look on his face. Taking more of him in this time and no longer feeling as afraid to let your gaze linger on him, you noticed how tired he looked; the lines around his eyes more prominent, the blue of his irises barely disguising the dull gray that hinted at pain; all of those little details ones you could never forget regardless if after a week or a lifetime.

His proximity was enough to make you say everything that was in your heart, the words bursting to get out, his scent and radiating warmth a lethal combination without him trying, and you scolded yourself for how easy he made it to get you to talk even without the use of his powers.

Your mind pleaded for you not to say it, but as your heart hammered in your chest you could feel the words clawing their way up your throat at record speed. Swallowing thickly, your hand moved so you could trail your fingers up his cheek and across his brow and you noticed even more now the wearied, doleful presence that dulled his eyes. It seemed that each caress brought forward stifled feelings in Anders, the sadness in him switching to anger again.

"Why did you leave like that?" he demanded, his tone making your unsaid words form into a lump in your throat.

You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to find a way to help him understand exactly how he made you feel. It was always a myriad of things with him; excited, happy, whole, loved, scared. How could you begin to explain that he made you feel so good it terrified you?

When you didn't answer right away he backed away from you, a waft of cool air instantly replacing the warmth where his body had been.

Your mouth opened and then closed, and each time you parted your lips those three condemning words threatened to tumble out involuntarily, your heart and soul needing to free itself of the restraints you tried so hard to keep bound and safe.

"Because I-"

His eyebrows flew high on his head and he shrugged, his gestures exaggerated, prompting you to give him something. Your eyes followed him as he turned and walked further away from you, and as much as you wanted to follow him, your feet were rooted where you stood. When he turned back to glare at you impatiently, you finally managed to find your voice.

"I was scared, Anders!" you admitted, cowardly. How long would you be able to keep denying this for, you wondered, watching as Anders moved to lean against the back of the couch, his arms folding across his chest protectively.

"Scared of what?"

His voice was quieter than you expected it to be, and you wondered if he would coax the truth out of you whether you permitted it or not.

You sighed and dropped your head to look at the floor, not wanting to make eye contact in case the bastard did pull his powers out on you.

"You make me feel things that I have tried to avoid this whole time."

"Like what?"

You shook your head as tears stung your eyes, your tongue suddenly too big for your mouth as it desperately tried to block what you knew you wanted to say.

"What are you afraid of?" Anders asked again, this time louder, his frustration no longer disguised.

"Everything…"

You glanced up to see him push off the back of the couch to begin pacing back and forth, one of his hands covering his face as he tried to summon patience to deal with you.

"For fuck's sake," he mumbled to himself. "I thought what we had was good, effortless," he spat, stopping to look at you with honesty in his cerulean eyes, his hand motioning in the air between you. "Special…"

The last word trailed off but held so much honesty in it that your heart split open again, knowing how much damage you caused, and bile rose in your throat at the thought of it being irreparable.

"It is, Anders!"

"Then why the fuck did you leave?!"

His voice boomed through the apartment, the force behind his words triggering your own.

"Because I love you!"

A loud ringing resounded in your ears, and you felt all the blood that was in your face drain out of it only to be pumped forcefully through you again as your heart pounded ruthlessly, its beating deafening. The sound of your laboured breaths made you focus again, drowning out the blaring nothingness, a slight sense of alleviation beginning to take over your panic.

You could physically feel the binds breaking apart in your chest, your heart freed from its confines, and now that it was said, you stood waiting for the aftermath.

Anders faltered, sighed and put his hands on his hips. His expression was full of disbelief, like he didn't hear you or as if you had said something in a language he didn't understand. He looked down at the ground and pulled his bottom lip in his teeth, shifting his weight on his feet to take a step forward, but moved back again.

You kept quiet, and when he finally looked you in the eyes you could see how much emotion your confession brought out in him. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words didn't come.

Anders rubbed a hand over his face, the room so silent you could hear his palm scratch against his stubble. His mouth parted again, and this time he chuckled, but not out of humour or anger.

"Anders-" you started, but stopped when he walked toward you and cupped your cheeks, pulling you so close your lips grazed against each other.

"Please don't take it back," he pleaded, his hands holding your face so tight it was like he was making sure you wouldn't vanish along with your words.

"Never," you vowed, and his mouth connected to yours like he needed the air that was being held in your lungs.

His lips quivered ever so slightly, the smallest tremble of uncertainty and vulnerability that coursed through him unable to hide itself as it transferred onto you. You pressed against him harder, deepening your kiss to give him the surety he searched for, that you meant what you said and would never use it to trick or hurt him. He matched you with equal intensity, his tongue driving into your mouth that still tasted of your declaration, and in turn you relished in the taste and smell of him, the spiced aftertaste of scotch welcoming and familiar.

His hands moved up to cradle the back of your head, supporting you as you felt you were about to melt away under his touch, his body pressing into yours the longer you kissed as if you would simply fuse into one.

Anders moved away from your mouth, and your breathy gasp shuddered in the air as you drew a sharp inhale, the sensation of his wet lips traveling down your jawline to your neck eliciting needy moans from you. One hand returned to rest against your cheek, preventing you from pulling away as he licked at your throat, his tongue marking you with clear streaks, his lips sucking at your flesh that throbbed to the beat of your pulse. You could be lost here forever, drunk and satisfied from this alone, his tongue sending shivers through your whole body as it slowly trailed over your sensitive skin.

You clawed at his back, your nails attempting to tear through the dress shirt that covered him, feeling more desperate than ever to feel his skin on yours. He gripped under your thighs and pulled your legs up to wrap around his waist, your silent prayer being answered by him for yet another time, making you wonder if Bragi was able to read minds as well as make people obey his word.

His lips clashed with yours, sealing them together as he carried you to his room to set you down carefully on the bed. His chest heaved as he undid his buttons in a hurry, tossing the shirt somewhere in the room, and once his upper body was bare, he leaned forward and kissed you again. Your hands carded up his chest, catching in the soft, amber coils that your fingertips had longed for since you saw him last, and it seemed your touch sparked a similar impatience in him. He abruptly stood and pulled at the hem of your shirt, flicking it up and over your head only to meet you in a desperate kiss once it was discarded. His thumbs grazed across each of your cheeks in a sweeping motion that made your head spin, but not enough to stop you from working at freeing him of his pants.

Even though you were the one to do it, your heart rate sped up and arousal flooded through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling, becoming ever closer to reuniting your bodies and displaying what you felt for each other in the best way you knew how.

Anders hissed and nipped at your lower lip when you tugged his boxers down to expose his leaking cock to the cool air of his room, and he knelt between your legs and guided you to lay on the mattress, his lips still locked with yours as you slowly stroked his length.

"Fuck, why aren't you naked yet?" he growled, his cheeks red with frustration and lust when he pulled away from you to look you over. You swallowed thickly at his impatience and released his cock from your hand to shimmy out of your pants, your panties that were soiled by your slick going with them.

Anders slid his hand beneath your back and expertly unclasped your bra, roughly pulling it from you, battling with himself between wanting to take you hard to help carry out his pain, or continue with the terrifying reality of giving in to the tenderness he secretly ached for. As soon as he pressed his mouth on yours again, his decision was made, set in stone and written in the stars, his heart plunging further and further into the trap he vowed it would never get caught in. He could feel the strangled emotion bubbling up his airway - everything he fought for so long to suffocate boiling to the surface - the things he always believed he was unworthy of in front of him for the taking.

Your hips lifted and rolled, teasing the tip of his cock with your soaked core, your hands roaming across every part of his torso like you were trying to make purchase on his heart and soul, coaxing him to no longer fear bearing this part of himself to you. He felt the words choking him, and he swallowed hard and kissed your collarbone, a sound that resembled a cry he didn't recognize from himself sounding out against your skin when he opened his mouth.

Your soft whimpers brought him the focus he needed, drawing his attention back to worshiping your body, his confidence growing as he put his intentions back to the physical kind he knew he had every control over.

His tongue swiped across the curves of your breasts, making your nipples harden into pebbles, swirling his tongue and sucking until every nerve in your body was awakened with jolts of pleasure shooting through you.

Continuing to explore the body he could never get enough of, his hand slowly trailed down your waist, and lifting his hips away from you slightly, he allowed room to slip his hand between your bodies where his fingers delved in your wet folds. Slowly, he fingered you, his need for you increasing with each stroke on you; your walls clenching around him only to have him pull out to leave you vacant and eager for more.

Streetnoise crept in through the walls and window of his bedroom, and for the first time ever it felt distracting to him. Anders sat back on his knees and pulled at the sheets that lay crumpled behind him at the foot of the bed, dragging them up and over your heads as he returned to settle between your legs. You smiled at him as the sheets billowed with air around you, making his heart ache at the sight of you, knowing you were the very reason he was meant to exist in this world; as a mortal or a god, on Earth or in Asgard.

The sheets landed softly on top of him, and a comforting feeling draped over him like the high-end thread count itself, knowing that he was hidden away from everything and everyone else with you. He kissed you slowly, relishing in the fact that no one could reach either of you to judge or criticize, sheltered from denouncement and the need to defend what you had.

His cock lingered at your entrance, nestled comfortably in your folds without pushing through completely, your bodies in agreement to take their time. Anders softly broke your kiss and gazed at you, finally feeling unashamed to let his emotions show. He could feel moisture pooling at the corners of his eyes, his eyelashes damp when he blinked, and with a sigh he brought his forehead down to rest on yours.

A long moan sang out of you when he pushed inside your heat, his mouth returning to cover yours as if capturing the sound would allow him to hear it on repeat in his mind whenever he pleased. He wanted to pull these noises from you any time he was able to, wanted to wake up beside you every day and hear the words you confessed only moments ago. Being away from you only made him realize how undeniably hard he had fallen for you, and he wasn't going to let anyone convince him otherwise again.

He knew he needed you like a heart needed a beat, but even as he thrust deeper inside you, he continued to fight with himself to actually say it.

He pulled his face away from yours again, but still the words wouldn't come.

Frustration quickly began to take over, and as he pressed forcefully into you to push you to the brink, his doubts settled in around outside the sheets that shielded you.

Did you love him? Did he imagine you saying it? Was he so desperate to hear it from someone, anyone, that his mind created an illusion just so it could mock him later?

Another cry of pleasure escaped your mouth and you clenched around his cock, drawing him back. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he increased his pace, determined to prove what he couldn't speak.

How ironic, he thought, that the God of Poetry couldn't muster the courage to answer you with those three words, even when he knew he believed them.

"Oh my god," you called out softly, swimming in pure, wanton need, his name falling from your parted lips adding to his dizziness. Your praise echoed in his ears, and while he normally basked in it, knowing you worshiped him and his divinity, he questioned if even with the use of his talent he could be convinced that all of this was real.

You couldn't even manage to make her stay using your powers, could you?

Mike's indictment hovered over him like it was floating around just outside the covers - tormenting him - making the thought of speaking seem impossible.

Were you here because you wanted to be, or did you just fall for the shit-talking god whose only appeal was the charm dripping from his lips?

Anders let out a growl that resulted from the mix of pleasure and resentment, and as if you could sense his turmoil and blatant uncertainty, you cupped his face and kissed him with purpose, allowing him to find reprieve in being with you.

He carded his hands through your hair and looked at you with a penetrating stare, his voice dropping and words sounding far-off when he spoke.

"I need you to tell me-"

He stopped, the heightened control and slight tingling sensation in his veins vanishing as quickly as it came. He blinked and when he made eye contact with you again, it felt raw, like you were looking at the most exposed version of him.

"Tell me again," he requested, his voice honest and no longer laced with anything that would sway your response.

That dream-like mist lifted in an instant, the world coming back around you rather than falling away, your body still cradled by the mattress rather than feeling like you were floating as Anders' weight pinned you against it.

You knew right away what he needed to hear, and with or without him drawing it out of you using his gift, you would say it over and over until he knew it was true.

"I love you."

It was like you had stolen his powers, for when you said it this time you could tell he believed it. His eyes danced with a light that was so full of emotion, and you found it funny how you had thought earlier that they looked the most vibrant shade of blue you had seen them yet.

Anders crashed his lips against yours again, his kiss full of fervor and meaning, pressing into you so much that you could feel your body sink into the bed even more.

He gripped one of your legs to pull it up around his waist, grinding against you harder and deeper, his determination to say to you what he couldn't with words clear in his movements. You held each other tight, your bodies seemingly closer than they ever were before, both of you lost in the best way you knew how to express your love. Your hips rolled together in a synchronized motion, repeating the same routine you'd come to know and craved so much, your whimpering increasing as Anders pawed at your flesh.

He could feel his whole body tingling with his power; his magic lingering just below the surface of his skin, latent and pulsing through him in a way he'd rarely experienced.

Wanting to write poems on your skin with his lips, he dipped his face in the hollow of your neck, allowing you to moan softly beside his ear while he attacked you with kisses and gentle nips. Unable to catch his breath with how intense of a pace he was keeping, Anders tore his lips from you, focusing on sending you both through to your end, allowing you to return the favour by lifting your head slightly off the pillow to reach his neck.

It intoxicated you further; his hot, thick skin smelling of him adding to your frenzy and catapulting you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"Come with me," you pleaded, your voice strained and needy, squeezing his back to aid in your request.

Anders gave a curt nod, angling his hips in a way he knew would take you both to the sought after high, and dipped his head back down again to slot his mouth over yours, his deep moans of pleasure muffled as he worked with unbridled passion.

With your bodies once more tuned in to each other, you let go of the strings that were barely keeping you together, your core tightening around his cock that pulsed into your depths as blinding pleasure took over, his mouth pressing onto yours harshly as he rode out your climaxes.

Slowly rocking until the rippling heat dispersed from every limb, your kisses turned softer, focusing now on the smoothness of your tongues and recognizing just how much you had missed this.

Anders gradually stopped the entanglement of your lips, pressing a final, gentle peck on yours as he pulled back enough to allow you to see his face. You reached your hand up, using your finger to brush away a drop from his cheek you were unsure was sweat or a tear, watching as he didn't attempt to hide whatever he was feeling from you.

"I love you, Anders," you repeated, seeing the relief at being reassured in his eyes. He flashed a faint smile, enough to pull out his dimples, and as he softened and began slipping from you, he rolled off of you onto his back, pulling you into his embrace.

Anders made love to you two more times through the night, hearing you recite the poem he wrote for you out loud countless times before you were taken by sleep, his limerick bestowed into your body and given a voice to be heard only by him.

Despite his own fatigue, his addled mind betrayed him and prevented him from finding rest; the words you spoke etched into him where they burned his skin, knowing he wouldn't find sleep until he let his heart say what it needed to.

You laid tucked up against him, your head on his chest with an arm and leg draped across his body, sleeping peacefully with your mind clearly at ease. His body begged him to close his eyes, but his mind continued to spin. Happiness filled him in knowing that you did love him, but anger mixed in with it at not being able to say it back to you, leading to a level of frustration he had a hard time imagining existed; that even the god of poetry couldn't get the words to fall from his lips, words that held more power than any others he had spoken from his silver tongue.

His hand slowly trailed up and down your arm in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay, but all he really wanted to do was scream from his irritation or wake you up so he could finally tell you.

His heart hammered in his chest and he was convinced that alone would wake you, yet he still feared that even if you were to wake that very second, he wouldn't be able to get it out anyway.

Anders clenched his teeth, desperate to say it and needing you to know, the fear he felt making his cheeks flinch as he fought himself over what to do. He never wanted you to regret saying it, to be embarrassed by your admission or worried he didn't reciprocate your love, and even still his cowardice won.

Exhaling deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves, he rubbed your arm with his thumb, and shifting enough to see if you were still sleeping, he peered down at your beautiful face. You stirred slightly, but your evenly tempoed breaths continued, the only change being that you gripped your arm tighter on his waist and sighed as you nuzzled into his chest more.

“I love you,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead.

His whole body coursed with adrenaline, knowing there was no hope of sleep for him now, and he smiled to himself that somehow the words didn't feel foreign on his tongue.

Anders woke with a start, realizing you were no longer beside him, your side of the bed cold. His stomach dropped and he felt panic rise in him until he heard the familiar sounds of you knocking about in the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling his nostrils as he drew a deep inhale.

A moment later you waltzed into the bedroom, a sweet smile adorning your face, wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts with the buttons unfastened to reveal your perfect form to him. You looked like the goddess you never had been but always were to him, holding two steaming mugs of coffee in your hands as you walked toward the bed.

"Morning," he said, his voice thick and raspy from the short but heavy sleep he had eventually succumbed to. He sat up against the headboard and shifted over a bit to make room for you to sit beside him, watching as you blew on your coffee before taking a careful sip.

"Morning, Anders," you purred, a playful glint sparkling in your eyes as you watched him over the rim of your mug before placing it down. "I figured you could use some coffee, I could tell you didn't sleep very much."

"Mm, yeah," he confirmed, absently. "Hey, come here a sec."

A very serious expression dressed his face, his eyebrows knitted closely together, and reaching for your hands that were warm from the cups, he pulled you to straddle his lap. His hands found your waist beneath his shirt, gripping you with a pressure that was gentle enough but showed his surety.

Opening his mouth to speak, he closed it again, rethinking his words, the power of Bragi seeming to fail him again. Instead, he kissed you, reaching up to cradle your face in his hands, the fervor in his kiss making you reciprocate eagerly and readjust your naked core on his lap.

Finding his courage in your touch, he broke away, his thumb landing on your lower lip to press on it gently before looking into your eyes.

Your name slipped off the curve of his lips, instantly spreading a dream-like warmth over you, your eyes locked on his as he began to speak in his soft, languid voice.

"I love you."

Feeling Bragi flit away, you blinked a couple of times, your heart racing, and your breath hitched in your throat as you did your best to comprehend what Anders said to you in your stunned state.

"I love you," he repeated, in his own voice this time, the help of Bragi missing from his words. "I love you as Bragi, and I love you as just me."

Tears stung your eyes, and as you grinned a beaming smile, a few fell on your cheeks. Cupping his scruffy cheeks in your hands, you kissed him, trying to buy yourself a moment of composure before trying to speak.

"You’re never just you. You’re everything. My god. My Bragi. My Anders."

He chuckled, the sound making your heart swell as much as the happiness on his face did, and tipping your head slightly, you said five words you never thought you would have the chance to utter.

"I love you, too, Anders."

---

Taglist:

@guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @sketch-and-write-lover @jotink78 @medusas-hairband @feeweeeee @missihart23 @fortheloveofdurin @i-am-still-bb @roobear68 @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer @legolasbadass @spngingerbread21 @faeriefics

#anders johnson #the almighty johnsons #anders johnson x female reader #anders johnson smut #the almighty johnsons fanfic #dean o'gorman #anders johnson fluff

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thefairfolk · 11 months

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not even bones sucked.

except adair, that design was genius.

meanwhile nita’s over here being a horrible protagonist and basically making it virtually impossible for people to rout for her with the way she acts. she can’t just blame EVERYTHING on fabricio ratting her out to the black market. she yells at him that “you did this to me!” or “you made me like this!” like. no.

girl, you may have went through trauma, but you were literally faced with the choice to not be a torturer and murderer. and then you blame ALL of it on someone who simply started a butterfly effect that got you to where you are now?

take some responsibility for your actions, dammit.

and the way she treated diana and adair was just horrible and undeserved. diana did NOTHING to deserve nita’s stupid cOmEbAcK about her not being able to finish off her family’s murderer. she was nice to nita and even tried to get adair to let them stay at first- until nita (wrongfully, may i add) dumped boiling water all over adair, melting his skin off to reveal his true form.

girl- what- 😃

he explicitly stated to NOT bring police to his shop. she went and made it happen anyway, and was surprised at the outcome of being sold out? and still has the audacity to “tAkE rEvEnGe” on him so badly?

my biggest issue is honestly her deal with fabricio. nita can’t take responsibility for ANY of her actions and becomes defensive when confronted with logic and rationality. i used to think hate is a strong word for a character, but i can’t like her one bit.

the worldbuilding is also generally weak. mf, it wouldn’t take a genius to find out that the dangerous unnaturals list exists to make profit out of it. if nita’s just realising this at 17 (and this isn’t common knowledge), no offence, your protagonist (and everyone else in this world) is a pure idiot.

kovit ... i have mixed feelings about kovit. he’s on thin fucking ice.

and, oh yeah, adair is undeveloped and mid, but he’s at least pretty (it’s the grecian nose + gay pose for me).

#webtoon #webtoon critical #not even bones #not even bones critical #nita sanchez #kovit #adair #it's 4am who am i ranting to

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twistedtummies2 · 1 year

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Top 15 Portrayals of Raoul (ALW’s Phantom)

“The Phantom of the Opera” closes in two days on Broadway, and I’m still here to give my second favorite musical the honor it deserves! I’m counting down my favorite performers who have played the three key roles of the show. Yesterday, I presented my favorite people who have played Christine Daae. Today, I move on to the next major part: Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny.

Raoul is a character who, even more than Christine, I feel gets a bad rap. He’s the least popular and well-respected of the three main characters; his goals, motivations, and personality are the most simple and altruistic of the three, and as a result he’s often perceived as the least interesting. People tend to gravitate more towards Christine’s many dilemmas, or the tortured and haunting darkness of the Phantom himself, than the seemingly more whitebread Raoul. It’s telling that in the sequel to Phantom, “Love Never Dies” (by the way, I’ve ONLY been considering the first show, not that one, too, in my choices here, at least as much as possible), Raoul is actually changed into one of the main VILLAINS of the story…which, in my opinion, is both nonsensical and a total show of unwarranted contempt for his character. While it is true that Raoul is the least layered character of the three, I think he works because he serves as an interesting counterpoint to the Phantom. Like the Phantom, Raoul is deeply in love with Christine and admires her voice. But while the Phantom has lived a life of torment in the shadows, Raoul has effectively been raised with a silver spoon: he’s a generally optimistic, outgoing, wealthy young man. In fact, at times it seems Raoul is a bit…slow, shall we say? I wouldn’t say he’s stupid, outright, but I feel that part of the character a lot of people don’t realize is that he’s not necessarily the brightest bulb in the bunch, certainly not when compared to the Phantom. But what makes Raoul so wonderful is that, while the Phantom represents all sorts of complexities and tragedies and decadent possibilities…Raoul represents something simple: pure and wholesome goodness. His love for Christine seems absolutely honest and untainted, and the fact he’s rich never really seems to be something he lords over anybody. He doesn’t try to bribe people, he doesn’t try to use his money as something to flaunt, it just…exists. He’s someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, and he’s still willing to take risks and go to great lengths to help those he cares about most. There’s nothing WRONG with Raoul, at the end of the day; he only seems to be “less interesting” because the other characters have so much else going on. Raoul’s motivations and goals are simple: all he wants is to help and protect Christine. He loves her, and he is willing to go to any length to keep her safe and make her happy. There is nothing selfish or self-righteous in his soul. Something interesting about a lot of the actors who have played Raoul best over the years is that they often seem to “graduate” to playing the Phantom later down the line. This isn’t ALWAYS the case, but you will see several examples of that between this list and the one for the Phantom, which shall be done tomorrow. This isn’t always the case, however; what makes a great Raoul doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the Phantom, they simply have to be people who understand who he really is and why he is such a good character in this tale. Once again, this will be a description-less list (just names and pictures). With that said, here are My Top 15 Portrayals of Raoul from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Phantom of the Opera!

15. Byron Nease.

14. Killian Donnelly.

13. John Riddle.

12. Rhys Whitfield.

11. Simon Bailey.

10. Tim Martin Gleason.

9. John Cudia.

8. Reece Holland. (Yep. The March Hare played Raoul. I was pretty surprised, myself.)

7. Ramin Karimloo.

6. Michael Ball.

5. Steve Barton.

4. Hadley Fraser. (I actually used to dislike his Raoul, and I don’t really know why. Nowadays I think he’s great.)

3. John Barrowman.

2. Andrew Ragone.

1. Patrick Wilson. (Not sure how popular this opinion is, but it is the hill I choose to die on.)

Tomorrow: My Favorite Portrayals of the Phantom!

#list #countdown #favorites #best #actors #acting #theatre #musical theatre #musicals #broadway #west end #phantom of the opera #andrew lloyd webber #raoul #vicomte de chagny #top 15 #rip phantom on broadway

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 10 months

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steddie tbhk au. kinda. pt. 2.

---> part 1 :)

Read on Ao3 <3

Here is a short and comprehensive list of things Steve had been willing to give up when he decided to let the supernatural resolve all his problems:

- his free will (he didn't seem to make a lot of sensible decisions anyway)

- a painless existence (not like he wasn't used to it)

- never falling in love again (something he can't imagine himself doing anyway, he has never felt romantic feelings for anyone before Nancy before and the thought of feeling so strongly for anyone else seems ludicrous)

- his life (this one he'd have to think a bit on. Like, depends on how much time it wants)

Here is an even shorter and more comprehensive list of what he WASN'T willing to give away:

- his peace of mind

And yet. AND YET.

"Master! Master! Master of puppets is pulling your strings,,,,,dundundundun"

Steve feels almost sorry for whoever wrote this song. They don't deserve the pure burning hatred he feels for them considering he has never actually listened to it properly. Who knows, maybe he would've liked it if he had had a less atrocious introduction to it.

"MASTER! MASTER! Just call my name cuz I'll hear you scream! Master! Master!'

Hanako continues his riveting one-man performance. He slaps the teacher's butt when she turns around to write on the blackboard. She doesn't notice, of course, because Steve is the only one who is unlucky enough to be able to hear and see the menace. He is this close to exchanging his soul for some fucking peace.The whole thing would be a lot more amusing if Hanako wasn't also successfully covering the blackboard which contains everything he needs to know for the exam next week.Thanks, dude.

Laughing at my cries indeed.

But now Steve perks up. This is the only part from this wretched song he looks forward to. Because after that blessed line that hits a bit too close to home, comes the solo. Which means Hanako will be so focused on his air guitar, he will forget to screech around like a tortured banshee.

When Murray had warned them about "the dangers of the supernatural", this probably isn't what he'd had in mind. Regardless, Steve has received the message loud and clear: do not mess with the supernatural if you want your sanity to remain intact.

Unfortunately for his new ghostly acquaintance, Steve has been beat down by things outside of his control way too often not to take the rare chance to strike back. (He refuses to call them friends because: a) he is so obnoxious that his presence causes nothing more than deep annoyance and the occasional headache; and b) if Steve were to admit that they were anything more than that, that would mean that his only real friend is literally dead and can't be seen by most of the population, which would honestly just be extremely sad.)

When the solo seems to have reached its peak (the spirit dramatically headbanging as if his life depended on him, pun fully intended) Steve accidentally let's his eraser slip. His eraser that - on complete coincidence of course, Steve being captain of the basketball team has absolutely nothing to do with this - hits Hanako square on the face. Steve had expected the eraser to fall through him, maybe to irritate him at most. So it comes as a welcome surprise when his projectile actually hits his target in the face, Hanako apparently solid for some reason. Score. (He would later find out that the reason is that "it isn't a real headbang if you can't feel the whoosh whoosh of your hair")

The entire class turns to him at this sudden interruption, but Steve only has eyes for one particular menace. "Whoops, I'm so sorry", he says in his most insincere tone. It is a true tragedy when said target dramatically let's himself fall through the floor. Yeah, through. Can't even leave the classroom like a normal human being. What a dramatic bitch.

(No, he is not extremely bored afterwards. And he also doesn't hum the damned song under his breath. Shut the fuck up.)

Steve and basketball is a bit of a complicated thing. He may have first started because his father insisted, but he stayed out of his own volition. He liked the thrill of never knowing whether the ball would land until the last second. He liked the pleasant burn in his muscles after a harsh training. He liked how there was a camaraderie in the team that could only be forged by the ups and downs of a game with high stakes. And when he got made captain, he found that he loved that, too. He liked getting to know his players. Enjoyed how he could make up for their weakness and praise them for their strength. And he would be lying if he said that being looked up to - not being questioned on his every fucking decision for once - was a big fucking plus, too.

Times change. He has long learnt not to care about his parents opinions anymore. The thrill of throwing a ball pales a bit in comparison to the adrenaline rush of a real life or death situation. The camaraderie he had always felt at home in vanished along with his popularity.

But despite all that, he still loves the sport. Being captain of the team became his refuge from real life. Sure, Tommy who used to be his right hand man doesn't respect him anymore and has tried to start more than one mutiny (it is kind of hilarious to watch to be honest), and it is an understatement to say that the way the new Hargrove kid keeps intruding his space is disconcerting. (Or, according to Hanako, Gay with a capital 'G'). But this is something he has control over. This is something he knows he is good at. This is something that won't end in death if he accidentally makes a mistake.

He doesn't know why he is surprised when the coach calls him to his office on lunch break. His dismay worsens when he sees fucking Billy already waiting there. For a moment he wishes Hanako was here, if only to provide a distraction. He isn't sure where he disappeared to and to be quite honest it's making him a bit nervous. This isn't the first time he has thrown objects after him (more than one teacher already told him to get his "clumsiness" under control), but he has never stayed away for such a long time before. He had thought that that was their established dynamic: Hanako sings obnoxious songs and Steve hits him with a variety of projectiles. Which, thinking about it like that, does sound kind of bad...

The coach calls them in. Billy looks at him with a raised eyebrow and a mean grin, which could either mean that Steve had missed a jab at his expense, or could also just be his normal expression. To be honest, he doesn't care. Thank god that Hanako can distract him without physically being there. Which, technically he never actually is, but that isn't the point right now.

Coach looks at Steve in what he swears is disappointment and his heart drops. He knows his performance has suffered greatly the last few months. He knows he has had to sit out more and more because of injuries (most notably: a broken leg when he had to save one of his teammates from the monster living in the second shower stall, a concussion from when he accidentally stepped onto the fourth step of the stairs near the art room due to said broken leg, a bad cut on his right arm from when he fought against the bitter teacher that had died by the hand of one of his own students and thought the best way to get revenge was to keep ringing the bells 24/7 - something Steve normally would've just waited out until the ghost realized how futile that was, but had been absolutely unbearable because of his concussion. And so on and so on.)

As soon as they are released Steve walks away. No need to rub salt into the wound by looking at Hargrove's shit-eating grin. His legs automatically make their way towards the old moldy girls bathroom everyone does their best to avoid (short OMGBEA, or just OMG. Hanako finds himself absolutely hysterical). For a moment he considers finally cashing in his wish and make himself captain again, but realizes how ridiculous that it. It wouldn't be right, he'd feel like a fraud the whole time. It's just so fucking stupid. Yes, Billy is a better player than him, he can admit it. He definitely has more hoops than Steve and if you are the unfortunate soul he has decided to block, there is no way the ball is going anywhere (as he has experienced many, many times before). But Hargrove doesn't care about the team. He doesn't care about trying to turn his teammates into the best players they can be. He doesn't care about encouraging them or patiently explaining over and over again what they are doing wrong. Billy Hargrove is a selfish prick with zero patience, and Steve doesn't understand how coach can just not see that.

(No. Steve isn't crying. That would be stupid. Shut the fuck up.)

The bell rings.

Steve makes the executive decision that he doesn't fucking care. Not like he is going to make it far with his grades either way. His already dim chances of a sports scholarship were eradicated along with his title as team captain, might as well buy the alcohol and his seven cats while his parents are still financing him.

Somewhere between break and the end of first period Hanako appears. Steve is amused to find that he is just as extra when he believes to be alone. He stomps from one side to the other and runs his fingers through his already messy hair. Steve is pretty sure the only reason he is corporeal right now is for the satisfaction of hearing each step echo through the room.

"What the fuck- I know this fucker has chemistry, what the-"

"You know my timetable by heart?!"

Hanako looks up. His eyes are burning. Steve unconsciously takes a step back. Hanako follows. He takes another. Hanako does, too. They continue this little game until Steve's back hits the wall, and suddenly he is almost squeezed to death.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD YOU ASSHOLE"

Hanako let's him go for a second to punch him in the arm, only to dive back in immediately afterwards.

Steve still isn't quite used to it. Touching. He has never been very touchy feely with people. Or perhaps it would be more apt to say that people were never very touchy feely with Steve. When he was still together with Nancy, they mostly touched when they were making out or holding each other's hand in the hallway. But now with Jonathan? They hug and she pecks his cheek and he gives her piggy back rides and it fucking hurts. Not just that the girl he loves broke up with him, but that she is obviously so much happier with Jonathan. When he'd still been friends with Carol and Tommy, the two had always shared casual little touches between them that he could never partake in - even before they had gotten together. Maybe he had a huge sign on his forehead no one told him about: CAUTION! THIS PERSON WAS NEVER HELD AS A CHILD! SIDE EFFECTS OF CASUAL TOUCH MAY INCLUDE: BURSTING INTO TEARS

Maybe that is a warning only provided to the living or maybe Hanako just ignores it like everything else Steve tells (begs) him to, but fact is he is always touching him.

Steve will be trying to concentrate on a pop quiz, bending over the page in the hopes that the teacher can't see his increasingly desperate expression, when cold fingers appear in his peripherie and gently tuck back the strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes. Sometimes a whispered answer to a question will follow, but unless the subject is maths Steve has learnt the hard way that it's better to ignore that part. Or it will be a normal boring school day and suddenly Hanako will see it fit to sprawl himself all over Steve's shoulders. It could almost be considered a hug, except that one of the participants was mostly unwilling and what the other was doing could more accurately be described as "laying". Steve knows that Hanako can float, so he only puts his entire weight into it because he is a little shit. (He tries not to think about how it feels so fucking good)

It is truly an evil thing he is doing. Putting his head on his shoulder and hugging him from behind and being so fucking gentle it made him want to cry. How dare he make him realize how much he wanted this. How needy he is. And he knows that the fucker knows it, because sometimes he needs to run to the bathroom so he doesn't implode in the middle of the classroom and the motherfucker who is the entire reason for this situation will be laughing his ass off. (He is kind of scared of how used to it he is getting.)

Steve was not mentally prepared for the actually pretty painful punch to his arm that followed. Again. Couldn't even choose the other one.

For a second it looks like his same arm is going to be punched AGAIN, so he quickly traps Hanako's fists in his hands before he can go through with the unsaid threat.

"Why were you so sure that I'm dead?"

"WHY WEREN'T YOU IN CHEMISTRY FUCKER"

"I don't know, I think we have quite the chemistry between us-". It looks like he is going for a headbash him "I mean. I. Wasn't. Feeling like it."

"What do you mean you weren't feeling it"

"And I'm sure you always went to all your chemistry lessons mister carbon dioxide only has one oxygen molecule"

"When are you going to stop- wait. Were you crying?"

"I...No." Here is a fun thing you should know about Steve Harrington that makes his life stupidly harder: he is an awful liar.

"Did someone do something? Do I need to kill them? That's a rhetorical question, of course I have to"

He can't help but laugh. He knows the other is kidding. Probably. And he also doesn't think that sending Hanako after the coach is going to do much good. But the though it still amusing.

Steve had had full intention to not say what was actually bothering him. The spirit already teased him for being a jock, admitting he was devastated because he lost his position as team captain would just be giving him free fuel. He survived an entire school week of the other singing the entire Metallica discography on repeat. Everything he has suffered so far was so he could prevail now, and he would make sure it hadn't all been for nothing.

What he did not expect were the puppy dog eyes. Fuck. And as if that wasn't bad enough he invades his space and puts in the cutest fucking worried pout and FUCK.

Sometimes you need to be the bigger man and admit defeat. And as Nancy graciously reminded him again and again, true men DO cry instead of suppressing all their emotions. Fuck, it's so hard vocalizing things sometimes. He hates talking about his emotions. Ew. Maybe he should wish to become mute. Jesus H Christ.

"Wow you- uh you really care about...basketball. Don't you?" Hanako says the word 'basketball' as if it were a slur. Steve can already feel himself becoming defensive.

"So what?!"

Steve expects him to tease him. Make fun of him. But maybe he misjudges him because he...doesn't. Instead he tells him about D&D. To be quite honest, most of it goes right over Steve's head. He does gleam that the game has an awful lot of maths for something that is supposed to be fun, and that there is an entire vocabulary of acronyms his counterpart seems to think is common knowledge. But Steve doesn't mind. He has always loved watching people being passionate, loves the way their eyes will light up and their voice will fill with excitement. Hanako is no different.

The bell rings. Both boys ignore it. The spirit slowly loses steam and after a while both are laying on the dirty floor in silence. It's funny, they've never just been quiet together before. It's comfortable.

But there is one thing that won't leave his mind.

"Hey. Why...why were you so scared. When you didn't find me?"

"Can't I be worried for a friend? You know, you made quite a name for yourself in the supernatural community. That is not a place you want to be well-known in.".

"Bold to call us friends when I don't even know your name."

"It's...it's Eddie. Eddie Munson."

"Just Eddie?"

"I like to keep people guessing"

"I bet you're called like. Edwin or some old people shit."

"Yeah sure Steve Harrington"

#im so obsessed with this au rn #oh i should probabl make a tag for it #uhmm #tbem #(short for toilet bound eddie munson lol)#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things fic #steddie drabble #steve x eddie fanfic #pen.

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