#wild is so far in the future compared to them that he uses different words | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yslkook · 3 years

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tightrope (10)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jin's second tattoo parlor opens up, you learn about jieun who is jungkook's ex is and the L word is said…

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, pretty tame smut (18+)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts<3

It takes a few months for Jungkook to open up to you about his ex-girlfriend. While you’ve had flings and semi-serious relationships in the past, none of them were really enough for you to cement anything concrete in your life. The first real relationship you’ve had with anyone who makes you consider anything long-term has been with Jungkook. While you knew from Yoongi and Hobi (through gossip shared over beers and snacks over the years) that Jungkook had been seeing someone for a long time before he had met you, you never pushed him to tell you about her.

Gradually, he began with her first name. It might have bothered you, if the circumstances were different or if you didn’t trust him so implicitly. That he was seemingly reluctant to share anything about his ex-girlfriend. But part of the reason that you and Jungkook work so well together is because you’re both conscious of what the other needs.

Jungkook never wants you to compare yourself to anyone, especially not an ex-girlfriend that he harbors only indifference for. So he takes his time- while he wants to share with you how his feelings fizzled out during the course of the relationship only for the same feelings to falsely appear later when he had randomly run into Jieun at the bar, he also doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

It could be a long story, but truly, it’s not. It’s the story of a girl and a boy, of high school sweethearts who were pulled apart by different interests and aspirations. It’s the story of a lovesick boy who was stupidly desperate for the approval of a girl who had gone far away for university, who held her future degree over his head.

It’s the story of a boy who learned to love himself, believe in his own dreams and refuse to be taken advantage of. Perhaps you and Jungkook were always meant to be together, considering the women that had been negative fixtures in your lives.

Jungkook shares his story with you with a soft voice and his cheek pressed to your chest. He peers up at you with wide eyes while you run your fingers through his purple locks with soothing fingers.

“It was so long ago,” Jungkook says wistfully, “I did love Jieun, in the beginning at least. We were both young, but that wasn’t an excuse for… She ended up dumping me when we were twenty because she said she was too good for me, that I couldn’t give her what she needed. That she needed a guy with a solid career and someone she’d be proud to bring home to her parents. Which I guess was a guy with a fancy degree and a three piece suit.”

You inhale sharply. “I’m sorry, bunny,” You murmur, rubbing his back gently, “I’m sorry Jieun said that to you. I’m sure it stayed with you for a long time.”

“It did… but looking back, it’s easy to point out the exact time that things started going south. It didn’t take long, honestly. We both just wanted different things from each other and were never on the same page,” Jungkook shrugs, “But it also didn’t take long after that to finish my tattoo artist apprenticeship. And then I met Jin right after that. And here we are.”

“And here we are,” You echo, tilting his chin up to give him a soft kiss.

“But you know, I ran into her one night a few years later. Nearly two and a half years after we broke up. We hooked up that night, and it was the last time. It was like… one of those things where I had to see if there were any feelings. It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook admits.

“And were there? And lingering feelings I mean?” You ask, not stopping your gentle touches over his back.

“No, there weren’t. It’s fucking wild how someone can be your entire world and you think you love them, but then feel nothing for them after,” He murmurs thoughtfully.

“Feelings are funny like that,” You reply, “But it didn’t make your love for her any less real.” Your heart aches for a young, wide-eyed Jungkook, who surely loved with a big heart and open arms. He still loves the same way, you think.

Jungkook hums in response and shifts himself so that he’s hovering over you and drops his full weight on top of you. You’re used to his antics by now, so you don’t even bat an eyelash.

It’s easy for him to open his heart to you, for him to share things that remain a faint memory after years. “And I met you exactly two weeks after that, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, tightening his hold around your hips. Your belly flutters as he presses a kiss to your eyebrow, then your eyelid. “You were wearing a pink dress, for Hobi’s birthday. Even though it was freezing that day. Thought you were so pretty.”

“And it took us this long to get together,” You say with a small smile.

“I thought you wanted what Jieun wanted,” Jungkook admits softly, almost nervous for your reaction, “Thought you wanted a lawyer or a doctor or something, especially when Sora kept telling me you’d never date a guy like me. Much less be friends with me.”

“It makes sense,” You reply, “I don’t blame you for keeping your distance from me for so long. And getting so upset when I just… let Sora run her mouth.”

But still, you wince visibly at the mention of Sora. You can understand how deep his hurt from Sora’s past actions (and your lack thereof at the time) ran and why it hurt him so much. “I only ever wanted someone who was nice and caring,” You say, “The tattoos and piercings are just an added bonus.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Also your big dick and your incredibly big heart, are very welcome added bonuses-” You shriek with laughter when Jungkook bites your shoulder playfully.

“For the record, I’m glad you came after me despite Sora,” Jungkook says, thumbing your cheek.

“I didn’t come after you! I only wanted to be your friend,” You roll your eyes, “I thought you were so cool. I just had to say hi to you whenever I could.”

“You still think I’m cool?”

Your lips twist into a soft smile, “The coolest. Especially because I love you.”

Jungkook cradles your cheek in his tattooed hand and pushes his lips to yours slowly, as if he’s sifting through honey. His hair tickles your forehead, but you pay it no mind, only twisting and shifting in his hold to mold your hips to his. Your hands graze his biceps, squeezing lightly as he swallows your barely there hums easily.

He doesn’t have to say it (you already know), but it’s nice to hear anyway. He’s breathless, voice a low murmur when he replies to you, “And I love you, my pretty girl.”

It’s enough to make you overheat.

Jieun doesn’t come up again in conversation, at least not in a serious manner. You had told Jungkook that you understood- it’s possible to be over an ex or a friend as a person but not be over the shitty way they made you feel. But he had reassured you quickly, telling you easily that that was not the case. Still, you tell him that if you want to talk about her or the feelings that came with the downward spiral of that relationship, you would (even if it wouldn’t be a nice feeling, being the person to help him overcome whatever issues he had with his ex)-

“I’ve dealt with it, baby,” Jungkook says, threading his fingers through yours, “I’ve had so much time to come to terms with her and how she made me feel. I wanna focus on you, and how you make me feel. I just wanna love you.”

And truly, you had nothing to say to that. Jieun doesn’t come up again, until she does.

As you’re viciously taking notes in a meeting with your client, listing out their demands on your trusty notepad, you make a mental note to text Jungkook. Today is the grand opening party of Jin’s second tattoo parlor and you were running so late. In fact, you were supposed to be out of the office twenty-five minutes ago but your clients just love talking to you so much that you’re one of the last people still in the office.

At least you had the foresight to pack your taupe colored heels that you wanted to wear, the new mint green blazer that you had bought specifically for the grand opening, and had placed the five bottles of expensive wine for the tattoo parlor staff you were planning to surprise them with in the trunk of your car.

You send Taehyung and Jimin a text before you pull out of the parking lot at work, asking them to meet you in about fifteen minutes to help you bring the crate of wine into the tattoo parlor. Taehyung shoots you a thumbs up on behalf of both of them and you set your GPS to the address of the new tattoo parlor and get on your merry way.

You’re feeling restless and tired from being at work for this long. While it’s important work and you were so close to the next phase of this project, you had always been mindful to not bring work home with you. Of course, there were special cases, but it’s generally not the norm.

Also, you very strongly dislike staying at work later than your usual time. Usually, you get in at around 7:30 AM and leave by around 4:00 PM, but now it’s nearly 5:00 and you’re getting antsier by the minute.

You decide it’s time to cut this meeting short. “Sir, I’m sorry, but it’s getting late and I have an engagement that I must get to. I’ll type these notes up and send them to you tomorrow.”

“Oh, I hadn’t even realized the time,” He says with a sigh, “Thank you for your flexibility and diligence, as always.”

“Of course, we’ll be in touch soon,” You say pointedly, letting him be the first one out of the door. You don’t want him to think you’re in a hurry to get away (even though you are). You still want to have him in your good graces, after all.

You: hey, gonna be late tonight. im only just getting out of work

Jungkook: damn they kept you late? see you soon baby

Jungkook: drive safe

You: 💖

You stop by for a coffee before heading to the new tattoo parlor, already feeling the fatigue of the day beginning to wash over you.

“Taehyung! Jimin!” You screech from inside your car, your voice carrying across half of the block, “Help me park this fucking car-”

“Hey! Don’t talk about her like that,” Jimin gasps, “She came from a good home.”

“Oh, alright, you’re right. I’m sorry,” You reply, patting the dashboard of your car, “But can you help me!”

They both jog towards your car, taking about a minute to say hello and take turns teasing you. Nevertheless, they help you back your car into the tiny spot and pull you into tight hugs when you tug your heels on and step out of your car.

“I have the cake, too. I was supposed to get here early but work held me up,” You say forlornly.

“You baked it?” Jimin asks, taking the crate of wine from your arms.

“Yeah, I told Jungkook it was a colleague’s birthday,” You shrug, “He believed it.”

Taehyung snorts and holds the cake for you, gesturing for you to gather your things and close your trunk and lock your car.

“Okay, I’m ready,” You beam at them and take the meticulously covered cake carton from Taehyung.

“About time,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, “First, you’re an hour late, then you can’t even park your car-”

“Shut up,” You glare at him, “Jimin, give him the wine to carry. Since he wants to prove a point so bad.”

“It is heavy,” Jimin complains, “Taehyung, help me with this for once-”

“For once? I’m the backbone out of the three of us-”

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic-”

“Me? I’m not the one who woke up the entire city because they were screaming about how they couldn’t park their car, oh woe is me-”

“That is the worst impression of myself I’ve ever fucking heard, Taehyung.”

“That’s the point. Get with the program.”

The three of you burst into a fit of giggles that echo down the street as you approach the tattoo parlor. It looks pretty packed already with your friends as well as newcomers who were interested in the parlor’s services. Jin was running a promo- if you stopped by the parlor on opening day, you’d get a coupon for twenty-five percent off on your future tattoo or piercing.

You suddenly feel a little nervous entering the shop when it’s already quite crowded but you follow Jimin inside anyway. You let him weave in between the crowd, towards your friends. Jimin must know you well enough already, because he leads you straight to Jungkook (and Mina, but that’s besides the point). Your heart swells in size when you meet his bright eyes.

“Hi, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your lips in greeting, “What’s this?”

“Something for later,” You say vaguely, “Congrats, Jungkook. And congrats, Mina. I’m gonna go find Jin.”

Mina gives you a quick side hug and a smile as Jungkook takes the package from your hands with one hand and rests his other hand at your waist.

“Hey, you look pretty,” Jungkook murmurs to you, squeezing your waist gently, “Missed you today, baby.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” You reply, “I like the suspenders. Makes you look all sophisticated-”

“I am sophisticated,” He pouts, looking at you with big eyes. You’re tempted to tease him, but instead you let it go and lean up for a kiss.

“Let’s go find Jin.”

“Oh, congrats, Jin,” You say, feeling your face heat up from his intense gaze, “I’m really happy and proud of you. Of all of you.”

Out of all of Jungkook’s friends and colleagues, Seokjin intimidates you the most. He always has- even when he smiles brightly at you or laughs with you, something serious blazes in his eyes.

“Oh! You didn’t have to do all this,” Jin says, “You baked this?”

“Yeah-”

Jungkook peers over your shoulder and at the cake, licking his lips in anticipation. “She’s the best baker, Jin-”

“You’re only saying that because you have a sweet tooth,” You mutter, your face seemingly permanently warm. His praise flusters you and you wring your hands together, an action that Jungkook catches.

“She also brought this crate of expensive wine,” Jungkook continues, grinning at you as if both his attention and Jin’s attention isn’t enough to make you want to melt into the floor.

“Wow, you really shouldn’t have,” Jin says, pulling you in for a tight hug, “Guess this means you like me more than JK, huh?”

Jungkook shoves his shoulder with a roguish grin and your face continues to burn. “Uh, it really- it was nothing, really,” You mumble, “It’s just a momentous occasion, right?”

You yelp when Jin pulls you in for another side hug and squeezes your shoulders. “Oh, I like you,” Jin murmurs fondly, ruffling your hair. You protest weakly, trying to shove his hands away. If he couldn’t feel your face blazing before, he definitely could now.

He looks at you, regarding you with those same steely eyes that sets you on edge. You know he’s protective, a lion in his own respect, especially of Jungkook. The youngest in the tattoo parlor. You can only imagine that he was one of the people that helped Jungkook pick himself off of his feet after Jieun broke his heart. After he was lost.

The steel in his eyes eventually melts away into silent approval and you sigh softly. Jungkook watches your shoulders relax and touches your elbow gently, to remind you that he’s right behind you.

“C’mon, let’s have drinks,” Jin suggests, “Mina and I just stocked the bar. Or was it Mei… Either way, the bar is stocked.”

“Well, I guess I can’t argue with that.”

Seeing Jieun in the tattoo parlor and hearing her speak to you so casually feels almost intrusive. You don’t think she knows you, but you know her. Her glossy black hair is still long and pristine, just like how Jungkook had shown you in photos of her. Everything about her looks exactly the same, at least on the surface. Your jaw nearly dropped when you had seen her- she’s tall, tanned and beautiful and you are not immune to a beautiful girl. There’s always something about a tall, beautiful woman that will just… render you speechless and make you stupid.

However, this is Jieun, so you remain cautious.

“You bored here or what?” She asks easily, as if you’re both not just two strangers.

“No, I’m just waiting,” You shrug, your face and the tips of your ears heating up, “People watching, I guess.”

“You people watch often, don’t you?” She asks with a tart smile, her shiny, red lips seemingly mocking you. But you can take it and you give it right back, artificial sweetness dripping from your own smile.

“Yeah, but I usually have my friend with me. He’s conveniently missing,” You shrug and chug half of your drink quickly, eager to get away from this conversation.

“My luck, I guess,” She says, “Careful, you might choke.”

In fact, you do choke a little, but not because of your drink. You narrow your eyes, sizing her up immediately. Even the way she holds her drink irritates you. This is the woman who broke Jungkook’s beautiful, big, bright heart.

“What’s your name again?” You ask, unable to keep the bite out of your tone, “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

“Oh, I’m Jieun,” She says and you swiftly hold your hand out to shake. Your eyes are piercing, teeth nearly bared as you assess her handshake with your firm grip.

It’s weak.

“Nice to meet you,” You force out and tell her your name, “So what do you do?”

Her face falls just slightly, “Oh, uh- I’m in between jobs right now.”

Maybe you’re a little evil, for the small flare of vindication that you feel. After all, she left Jungkook because she claimed that he wasn’t good enough for her and didn’t have career aspirations and goals. How the tables have turned.

“Oh okay, well I hope something works out for you, Jieun,” You say sincerely. While she treated Jungkook like he was inferior to her, you can empathize with struggling to find a job in today’s economy. See, you’re not completely evil.

“Thanks,” She says, “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where Jungkook is would you? I heard he still works here and I thought it would be nice to say hello…”

She really has some nerve. Your chest burns but you plaster on a plastic smile. Part of you wants to pretend like you don’t know who she is, but you decide to save your pettiness for another day and take the high road.

“He’s around here somewhere,” You murmur, “Though, I should tell you. I’m his girlf-”

As if the man himself had a sixth sense, you hear his voice materialize behind you. “There you are, baby. Been looking for you all evening-” But then you hear his smile drop before you see it, “Jieun? What are you doing here?”

There is nothing, no malice, animosity or discontent in his eyes. Only sheer, sincere surprise and curiosity.

She looks between both of you with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Her mouth opens and closes but no words come out for at least fifteen seconds. You feel bad, you really do- you can’t imagine what this must be like for her.

“I-I was just a-around and thought I’d say hi,” She stammers, “It’s been a long time. I’m happy for you, Jungkook. For you both.”

You decide to let the roaring lioness in your belly rest for now, rather than pounce. Jieun is harmless, as you’ve deduced. She also seems a little lost. “Want me to go get all of us drinks? Mina and Jin just restocked the bar,” You murmur, rubbing Jungkook’s back subtly, “You two can catch up.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jungkook says immediately, “We’ll be right back, Jieun.”

As you both approach the makeshift bar (where you know Jieun is watching you both), you can’t help but tug Jungkook to you by his suspenders and press a kiss to his wet lips. He lets out an amused chuckle that turns into a soft moan when you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss.

“I had to,” You mumble, “Gotta show her that we’re together-”

“It’s so sexy when you treat me like an object, baby,” Jungkook winks at you and you roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder.

“She really wants to talk to you,” You say softly, “She seems like she’s going through a lot.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement, pouring out drinks for you both. “Do you want to talk to her?” You ask, nudging him with your hips.

“Do you think I should?” He wonders, “I don’t really care to but…”

“It’s up to you, bunny. I only want you to be comfortable. I know she’s your ex and everything, and maybe we should feel weird about it. She seems like she’s going through a lot, and if there’s anything about you… Well, you always know how to lift someone’s spirits. But don’t feel like you need to. I mean, you don’t owe her anything.”

But you already see his gears turning in his head, along with the sparkle in his doe eyes. Jungkook’s heart is on his sleeve to you by now, and you already know what he’s thinking.

“Are you sure?” He inquires immediately, “Tell me if you’re not okay with it-”

“I’m sure, Jungkook,” You nod with a smile, “I’m good if you’re good.”

“I love you,” Jungkook sighs, pulling you in for a sharp kiss that has your knees weak.

“I love you,” You murmur, rubbing his chest reassuringly. Nothing remotely close to jealousy or insecurity stirs in your belly. They’re only talking after all. He drops another kiss to your forehead before walking away from you and towards Jieun. Your lips pull into a small smile as you watch him.

Nothing to worry about.

You’re in mid conversation with Mina and Mei, Jimin and Hobi making their way over with a tray of snacks and drinks. The opening party is going well, with lots of new, interested faces. Jin is happy beyond happy with the turnout, the apples of his cheeks flushed a pretty red from all of the attention.

You’re about to respond to Mei’s question (she had asked you where you had gotten your blazer from), when Jungkook appears out of nowhere. He’s been speaking with Jieun for close to twenty minutes now, but before you can ask him how their discussion went, he pulls you to him roughly by the lapels of your blazer. His large hands cradle your face tenderly, as if you’ll slip away from him if he lets go.

You barely have a second to meet his determined gaze before the floor beneath you slips out from under you and he kisses you in a frenzy. It’s the kind of kiss that weakens your knees immediately, has you gripping his shoulders, his wrists... anything you can reach. Jungkook holds you tightly by your waist- you are only surrounded by him in his strong arms.

Everything else falls away for a minute- it’s only you and him on this plane of existence. He pours his stardust into you for as long as he can.

And then, suddenly, you’re aware of the cacophony of cheers and hollers of your friends behind you. You gasp, remembering where you are, too shy to pull away from him and meet the smug, smirking faces of your friends.

“W-what was that for,” You whisper, your hands trailing to his suspenders. You grip them tightly, to ground yourself. The noise around you is easy to ignore, when all you see is the way that the light illuminates Jungkook’s dark eyes.

“I love you and I had to tell you,” He says easily. What a charmer.

“What were you and Jieun talking about that you had to kiss me like that?” You tease him. He only pecks your cheek, telling you that he’ll tell you later.

Jungkook winks at you and meets the coy gazes of his friends. There’s Mina, who is currently scolding Jimin for never kissing her like that in front of their friends. To which Jimin says, “I didn’t know you wanted me to kiss you like that!”

Life is good.

***********

After the grand opening party at the tattoo parlor, you had all headed to Jin’s apartment for an after party. At which you were yawning, fatigue curling in your limbs. It’s been a long day, and Jungkook can tell you were worn out. But you keep a smile on your face as you nurse your glass of water and try to focus on whatever conversation you were in.

Eventually, you and Mina end up at Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin’s apartment with the three aforementioned men. Jungkook had driven your car home, since you were drowsy. As soon he pulled out of the parking lot, your eyes had closed quickly, his hand encased in yours and lulling you to sleep.

You wake up as soon as Jungkook opens the passenger door once you reach his apartment building. Offering him a sleepy smile, you hop out of your car and immediately take his hand in yours. He takes a quick cigarette break outside of the building of the apartment, with you wrapped around his waist tightly.

You say nothing. He already knows how you feel about it and if he’s not ready to quit yet, then you won’t push it just yet.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Mina are already on the couch with plates of food warmed up and ready for everyone to eat. You’re quiet as you chew, happy to listen to them bicker and speak amongst themselves.

You catch Jungkook’s eye, melting at the way his cheeks puff out with a mouth full of food, and swoon. You even wink at him, but it just comes out like an exaggerated blink.

The events of the day and night begin to catch up to you, especially when paired with the warmth from both the decadent wine and the very warm, comforting body sitting next to you. It’s not Jungkook, you vaguely register, but your eyelids are so heavy and sleep is so close.

So you chase it, and you chase it quickly.

“Jungkook. Jungkook!” Taehyung hisses. He’s careful not to move around too much, so as to not rouse you. You’re currently pressed into his side, your head lolling on his shoulder and your arm tight around his waist. Line of fatigue melt under your eyes, your forehead relaxed and your leg draped over him. It’s clear that you are exhausted, and Taehyung doesn’t have the heart to wake you.

“Hah?” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He had also fallen asleep against Jimin’s back, whose head is currently in Mina’s lap. Jungkook uncurls his legs from around Jimin and stretches his arms, blinking at Taehyung and jutting his lips into a pout.

“Your girl fell asleep on me. Both of you should go to bed,” Taehyung says, “We’ll clean up later.”

Jungkook is too tired and too enthralled with the idea of cuddling you to sleep to argue. He yawns, blinking sleep out of his eyes and scoops you up gently in his arms so as to not wake you. He murmurs a quick goodnight to his roommates and Mina before closing the door to his bedroom and laying you on his bed.

You’re still in your work clothes. By the time he pushes your blazer off of your shoulders, your eyes are already open. And blinking sleepily at him.

You look around blearily, becoming adjusted to your surroundings and realizing that you’re in his bedroom. Your shoulders slump and you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him. Most of your weight falls on top of him and his back hits the floor with a soft thump.

You only hum, inhaling him in deeply. Jungkook resists laughing at you. “Baby,” You mumble, nudging his cheek with your nose.

“Baby, yourself. I’m trying to get you into bed and you pushed us to the floor.”

You pull away from him, as if you’re moving through molasses. You look over your shoulder and peel off of him, settling on his bed. He unbuttons your blouse and your pants, switching them out for a shirt and his shorts.

Jungkook takes your hand before you can protest and washes your face for you quickly in the bathroom. He carefully removes your makeup, making sure to take your mascara off completely, before cleansing your face twice. Once your face is fully toned and moisturized, he drops a sleepy kiss to your forehead.

You wrap your arm around his waist and watch him wash his own face. “I’m so tired,” You mumble, brushing your lips to his jaw.

“Good thing the bed’s right there, huh?” Jungkook teases. He doesn’t bother with a shirt once he gets into bed, only clad in a pair of boxers.

“Don’t forget to take your earrings and rings off,” You mumble, already close to falling asleep again.

“Wait, don’t fall asleep yet,” Jungkook says, nudging your hip with his knee. You whine and force your eyes open to meet his. “Gimme a kiss goodnight.”

“No, you gimme kiss,” You mumble, puckering your lips. His laugh is breathy, a soft exhale.

“You’re off tomorrow, right?” Jungkook asks softly, rubbing your arm. You hum in agreement. He finally pecks your lips goodnight and then your forehead. You return his affections by pushing your face into his chest, your lips hovering over the tattoo on his right pec.

“Alright, angel,” Jungkook says, finally closing his eyes and he murmurs a soft goodnight to you before drifting off into his dreams with you in them.

Any night that you sleep with Jungkook beside you is a night that you get the richest sleep. Even if you move around in your sleep from one side to the other, Jungkook finds you in his sleep and pulls you back to him. Which explains why his face is pressed against the back of your neck, his legs tangled with yours and his hand loose around your tits.

And his heavy cock pressed against the curve of your ass, as his hips rut against you slowly. But you’re only half asleep, so you let him be. Ignoring his soft sighs in your ears. His hands are wandering, up and down your belly to your tits before resting just over your core. You lazily wonder if he can feel your heat through your clothes.

“Good morning to you and the big guy,” You mumble, voice thick with sleep. He laughs into your skin, dropping a kiss to your neck.

“The big guy wanted to say hello to his friend,” Jungkook replies, cradling your jaw so you’re facing him.

“She says hello and good morning.”

“And how is she doing this morning?” Jungkook asks, ducking his head to your neck and dotting your skin with barely there kisses. You hum and push his hand further into your heat.

“Find out yourself,” You yawn, “She’s very well rested.”

You let out a shy giggle when he peels your shorts down your legs, face to face with your navy blue comfy, cotton panties. You’ve long stopped wearing lace and thongs around him, favoring the comfort that comes along with simple, cotton panties and he knows it, too.

“She’s shy today,” Jungkook muses, lightly tapping against your inner thighs, “She gonna let me say hi?”

“Hmmm, you’ll have to ask her,” You say, pushing your fingers through his hair. Sleep still stings your eyes and you lay back, getting even more comfortable in the pillows.

He kisses his way up your calves, not breaking eye contact with you and shoves your shirt up to palm your tits. Jungkook kisses your lips lazily, as if you have all of the time in the world. And it feels like you do have all the time in the world. Time stops when his tongue slips into your mouth and your hips rock against his like slow, sugared honey.

He grinds against you teasingly, clothed cock pressed against your clothed pussy when you widen your legs. You sit up a little, your back against the headboard and reach around him to feel his back flex under your palms.

Your hands veer south, slipping into his boxers and gripping handfuls of his ass. He groans loudly into your mouth, pulling a laugh out of you.

“Warn me before you do that,” He mumbles, “Jimin, Tae and Mina will hear-”

“Would that be such a terrible thing,” You grin salaciously, “Maybe you should call them in here. They can get the full show then.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asks in surprise, “Why is this the first time I’m hearing of this?”

“I’m kidding,” You say immediately, your cheeks beginning to burn, “I mean, unless-”

Jungkook shushes you with a finger pressed to your mouth, storing that interesting piece of information away for later. He pulls your shirt off of your torso easily, his lips attaching to your chest instantly. His necklace brushes against your skin, the cool metal a stark contrast to your warm skin.

A gush of wetness floods your pussy when he tenderly brushes your cheek with his thumb. Even when he manhandles you, when he drops you to the bed roughly, each of his touches are full of reverence and he always makes you feel cherished. He paints you in ropes of his adoration, always, his eyes always glowing for you.

And now is no exception- his tongue is flat against your neck, licking a long stripe. He bites gently (a habit that he picked up from you). Jungkook’s hardness brushes against your thigh once more and you turn your hips towards him, allowing his cock to brush your glossy, soaked folds.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathes, his head dropping to your shoulder. It’s been three days since you last had him inside of you, leaving you sensitive and needy for him.

Three days was truly a long time for both of you.

You pull on his chain lightly, nudging him for a kiss. It’s quiet, it’s easy for him to slide into you already. You’re always ready for him just after a few heavy kisses, his tongue in your pussy and a few rubs of his thumb on your clit.

A strangled sort of noise rips out of you, eyes squeezing shut as he stretches you out. “Easy, baby,” Jungkook coos, “I’ve got you.”

He’s slow and steady with you, the push and pull of your velvet walls feeling like home to him. He thinks you look so pretty like this, in the mornings with your eyes only just wiped away of sleep and your voice low and husky. Only for him. Jungkook likes being the first person to see you. And he likes that you’re the first person to see him.

“O-oh, Jungkook,” You moan into his shoulder, pulling him even closer to you. Your voice is muffled and you try to look up and brush his messy bedhead hair from his eyes. He stills his hips for a moment, letting you enjoy the feeling of being completely and absolutely full.

“Shit,” Jungkook moans, “I love you like this, baby.”

“Only like this?” You ask breathlessly, squeezing your walls around him, “Good morning to me-”

He lets out a choked laugh, “Good morning to us.”

Vaguely, in the back of your hazy mind, you recall that you want to ask Jungkook how his conversation with Jieun went. But you figure you’ll ask later, maybe over breakfast-

“Good, baby?” Jungkook asks softly, nipping your bottom lip.

You hum airily, cupping his cheeks and looking into his sparkling eyes. “Always good with you, bunny,” You murmur, kissing his chin.

“You in love with me or something? What a loser,” Jungkook teases, flicking your forehead. You take his hand, admiring the fresh coat of glossy, black nail polish on his nails, and kiss his fingers. Jungkook’s heart throbs in his chest (in time with his cock throbbing in your pussy) at the gentleness with which you kiss him.

“Something like that,” You say dreamily, hearts in your eyes, “Something like that, bunny.”

********

MOM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ultraanonymousey @moonchild1 @fan-ati–c @yeotan07

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

#jungkook x reader #Jungkook x you #Jungkook smut #Jungkook fluff #Jeon jungkook x reader

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xsamsharons · 3 years

Text

force of habit - nikolai lantsov.

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader.

genre/warning: angsty fluff.

words: 1.4k

summary: nikolai and you have been sharing beds ever since you were little, a habit you haven't been able to break no matter how increasingly more painful it became once you developed feelings for each other.

The night was cold and dark, and as the droplets of water that the rain let escape fell through the holes on your bedroom roof and landed on your pillow beside you, you couldn’t help but wish that someone else was occupying the spot instead. The rain somehow reflected exactly the way you were feeling, and the slight sway of the waves against the ship that would usually calm you down, were now only a representation of the back and forward game that it felt like you were playing with Nikolai. Ever since you could remember, Nikolai and you had been sharing beds or sneaking into each other’s rooms at ungodly hours of the night, staying up talking about everything and anything until the rays of sunlight started to paint the black night sky a brighter blue. It had been fun at first, two childhood best friends that would occasionally cuddle but always sleep next to each other, it was normal and it didn’t hurt at first, until it did.

No one had warned you that the little boy with wild blonde hair and excited doe hazel eyes your parents had forced you to get along with, would become the only person you would ever be able to give your heart to. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t tried to think about other people because you had, after all, you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. However, every time you went out with someone who wasn’t Nikolai, you would start to compare that person to him, and that wasn’t fair to anyone.

You would compare if way their hand felt in yours was the same to the way Nikolai’s did, you would compare the color of their eyes and if shone the same way Nikolai’s did when the sun was setting over the horizon and it hit him just right, and most of all, you would compare how you couldn’t feel anything at all, as opposed to the roller coaster of emotions that Nikolai made you feel. So, eventually, you just decided that a little bit of Nikolai was better than none of him, and that feeling heartbreak and sadness was better than feeling nothing at all. Which is how you ended where you were now: thousands of miles away from home, in a ship where you couldn’t even call your friend by his real name, and sleeping alone with your only company being the rain and the stars that shone above you.

The sound that the water made when it fell on top of your pillow felt eerily similar to the sound a clock would make when it was ticking: mocking you, telling you that every minute you spent laying on your bed, was a minute you weren’t spending with Nikolai. But how could you? When the mere thought of having to be beside him and feel so close to him but so far away was heart wrenching and when knowing that while you lay awake thinking about him, he’s probably sleeping safe and sound on his own bed, not a single thought about you swirling around in his mind and making its way onto every vein connected to his heart.

Your eyes got blurry with tears as your head showed you flashes of Nikolai’s face throughout the years, but you didn’t get much time to drown even deeper into your own self pity when a noise from your door startled you.

You could barely see in the dark of your room, but you’d know him anywhere. “Nik?”

“The one and only.” he smirked as he made his way closer to you, finally allowing the moon to shine on his face and showcase his beautiful untailored features. “Mind if I lay here for a while? Force of habit.” he shrugged at your surprised expression, and your mind was sent into override once again as you wondered if he had been thinking about you after all.

“Missed me too much?” you asked, hiding behind the teasing facade and scooting over, granting him space next to you on your bed.

“It’s hard to sleep without you.” he answered as he laid down, instead of the teasing remark you had been expecting him to make to match your own.

You wanted to say so much, but kept quiet as he settled beside you and let only the sound of the rain against your roof take over the quietness of the room. Suddenly, the atmosphere was different from what it had once been: where there had once been childish giggles and conversations about the future, there now was unusual tension and unspoken feelings.

“Why not just go to your room?” you asked when you saw the water that had been previously falling on the empty pillow, now fall on his face. The line it traced down his face almost looked like a tear, and you resisted the urge to run your thumb against it.

“I knew it! You are just using me because my room as the captain is bigger.” he accused teasingly, and you rolled your eyes as he pretended to be offended.

“You say that, yet you’re the one who knocked on my door to come sleep next to me.” you teased back, but his face fell at your words, and you panicked. It felt as if that was what finally broke the dam, because his eyes started to fill with tears and his usual confident facade was dropped. “Nik? What 's wrong?” you cupped his face with both of your hands, and he leaned into your touch like a cat would, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the side. He skipped past your hands and instead collapsed right onto your chest, your arms coming to wrap around him and play with his hair as you shushed his cries.

After what felt like years of torture having to listen to the boy you loved sob into your arms, he finally lifted his head up and looked into your eyes. “Do you not want me here?” he asked, voice raw due to his cries.

“What?” you answered with your own question, not being able to comprehend how he could ever think that you didn’t want him next to you.

“Do I bother you by coming to your room every night?” he rephrased, and your heart broke at his weak tone and vulnerable question.

“Of course you don’t.” you were quick to deny. “Most of the nights we don’t spend together I just spend them thinking about you.” you admitted, voice trailing down towards the end, embarrassed about the confession.

“You do?” his eyes suddenly looked hopeful, and you had to convince yourself to not jump to conclusions about what his reaction to your words could mean.

“I do.” you nodded. “All the time.” After a moment of silence, you decided to just ask the question that had been playing on your mind like a constant loop. “Do you ever think about me?”

“All the time.” he repeated your words, and you released a breathy laugh that sounded more like an exclamation of relief. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, and your breath was suddenly caught on your throat, not letting you release any sounds, so you just settled for nodding.

At your confirmation, he lunged forward and captured your lips in a kiss that took any little air that was left in your lungs away. It wasn’t a perfect kiss, because you could taste his salty tears and the years of waiting just caused you both to become desperate for each other, but you didn’t need it to be perfect. You didn’t need it to be perfect when the kiss held every unspoken word, every hidden emotion, and every thought you had tried so hard to ignore and push away.

“Who would’ve known you wanted to kiss me that badly?” he said once you both pulled away, his voice coming out in the form of a whispered pant, trying to regain his composure.

“You know, your teasing doesn’t sound that coy when you can barely get it out because you’re out of breath.” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“In my defense, I've waited my whole life to do that.” he said, making your smile grow to an unimaginable size and your cheeks to be overcome by a rose blush.

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know the feeling is mutual.”

“Don’t worry, I noticed.” he answered, gesturing to your lips and referencing the kiss you’d just shared.

You slapped his chest at his words, but after hearing his laugh come in response to your hand colliding against his chest and the offended look on his face, you realized you would not change his teasing words for even the best of a poet’s declaration of love. He was finally yours, and you were finally his. And that was enough.

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julemmaes · 3 years

Text

Honey - part three

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre roommates au

A/N: famous last words: I can finish this is in two hours. six hours laters and I feel like I’ve been beaten up by a gang of bigass old faes if you know what I mean.

IT CONTAINS SMUT, not suited for readers under 18

Please be kind I fucking hate my smut, if it’s disgusting just don’t comment on it cause I could hit my head on the wall several times

masterlist

Word count: 7,519

Aelin's scream was like a stab to the brain, "Get up you nasty little bitch!"

"Ace! Why don't you try with sweet Ellie?" retorted Lysandra.

Elide didn't even have the strength to open her eyes or move from the fetal position she was in, curled up with a pillow pushed so hard against her belly that she wouldn't have been surprised if it had somehow damaged her internal organs, "Please leave."

The two didn't seem to hear her.

"Sweet?" Aelin huffed, "But you did see her last night, right?"

Elide opened one eye, seeing that they had both sat down at the end of the bed. She felt the cracks tugging at her eyelid and grunted, pressing her face into the pillow. She wanted to die. And she wanted Manon to come and free her from those two supposed friends who she knew were about to remind her of her misadventures.

"Except for what happened before we left," Aelin winked, placing a hand on her foot. Elide withdrew it, not wanting to feel physical touch of any kind at that moment. "I would have been willing to break up with Rowan so I could get between Kyllian and you, honestly."

Elide grunted again, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm begging you girls, you need to get out before I throw up again."

And it was true, she would throw up if they didn't stop talking. Plus, Elide didn't care in the slightest what the drunk her had done. She hated her so much.

Lysandra giggled and she felt it as she climbed between the covers until she was settled next to her on the pillows, "Between her and Lorcan though, no?"

The cry of disgust that erupted from Aelin and the all too loud laugh from the other didn't make Elide register the words right away, but as soon as she realised what they had said, her stomach began to twist and turn, and not like when Lorcan accidentally brushed her hand or when he put his hand on her thigh during movie nights. Oh no.

With a movement she didn't know she had the physical skills to make, she shifted the covers off her body and launched herself into the hallway, slamming her hand against the bathroom door and throwing herself to the floor in front of the toilet before the highly concentrated alcoholic contents in her stomach spilled onto the floor.

As she vomited and Lysandra tied up her hair, massaging her back, Elide felt her heart break slowly. She wanted to turn around, to ask Aelin what had happened, or maybe not. She groaned as another gag shook her body and her eyes filled with tears once more as she puked what could only be alcohol.

"How do you still have stuff in your stomach?" muttered Aelin from outside the bathroom door.

Elide didn't blame her, vomit was disgusting and she was particularly sensitive to the sound of gagging. The only reason Lysandra wasn't the least bit uncomfortable was her younger sister Evangeline, who she had practically raised without anyone's help. Whatever came out of a person's body, their friend had already seen it in all shapes and colours.

Elide cursed herself for thinking such a thing while she was bent over the toilet throwing up, because it pushed her over the edge one more time and a sob wracked her body, "Fuck-" she managed to mutter between spits.

"I thought you weren't going to barf any more after last night," Lys said, continuing to rub her back.

"True," Aelin mumbled a little louder, "did you keep drinking after?"

Elide managed to turn her head towards the door, seeing that her friend was sitting on the floor just outside the bathroom. She grimaced as a gust of air that smelled like vomit reached her nose, "After what?"

"You and Lorcan left after you threw up," Lys explained to her. Elide didn't bother turning towards her, she didn't have the energy, "And you threw up so much Ellie, everywhere. It's weird that you have anything else to reject."

It wasn't weird at all considering the only thing Elide remembered was the amounts of alcohol she had ingested. She'd started just before seven with straight tequila, desperate to see how indifferent people were to the biggest catastrophic problems in human history, and everyone knew she couldn't handle alcohol even in small amounts. But Elide was also known to be the type who could drink for hours without ever feeling sick, if she now found herself bent over the toilet the next morning, it meant she had gone too far.

"I don't remember anything."

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Aelin said and Elide felt a shiver run through her body at the hint of mischief in her voice. She braced herself mentally to hear how much she'd actually whored out the night before, "We're here to fix the memory loss."

Lysandra made a disgusted noise as Elide flushed the toilet and the water stirred underneath them, but she patted her shoulders and pulled herself up, "You need to take a shower first though. Because you smell like death."

"Geez, thanks," Elide murmured as she began to undress.

The grin that appeared on Aelin's face made her hands freeze around the hem of her shirt. The other arched an eyebrow, looking into her eyes, "What? Lorcan is the only one you can flash?"

Elide closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her face and then let go a scream of frustration.

"Exactly."

Oh, god.

"I remember..." Elide scoffed, running her hands through her hair. When her fingers reached the tips, she was horrified to find they were encrusted with what was surely vomit from the night before. "Fuck."

Lysandra snickered beside her, "Why were you so drunk that you didn't realise what you were doing so damn early?"

Elide looked at her, and although she knew the question was only asked to tease her more, there was a note of concern in her tone. Her shoulders sagged a little and she shook her head, starting to undress undisturbed, "I set out to research a few things and the world is a shitty place and there was nothing I could do in the immediate future to save us all so I got drunk."

"Sounds like alcoholism," Aelin joked.

Both Lysandra and Elide laughed, "If you knew what I found out you'd get drunk too," the latter added.

"Send everything my way." the blonde winked at her, and then they went out, leaving her alone to wash away the sins of the night before and letting her mind travel. And Elide's mind travelled far too much as she racked her brains to remember Lorcan's reactions to a naked her.

After her friends had told her everything that had happened the night before. From her taking her clothes off in front of her best friend, to him getting stuck in their bathroom and calling Aelin for help, to her dancing with Kyllian specifically to make her roommate jealous - or so the drunk her seemed to have justified her actions - to Fenrys saving her from what was sure to end up being just casual sex that would only widen the gap between her and Lorcan.

Gap that apparently wasn't as pronounced as she thought.

Aelin and Lysandra had told her about the way he had pushed his way through the crowd and joined Elide on the dance floor. The way they had danced to one of their favourite songs until they had been on the verge of kissing.

Elide had never been so relieved to know that she'd thrown up on someone. And that her plan to attract Lorcan had worked.

She was cooking now, thinking about how bad it would have been for her to find out they'd kissed without having even the slightest recollection of it happening, when the front door opened and the boy who was the object of her dreams walked into the kitchen.

He stopped in the doorway, looking at her with the most emotionless face Elide had ever seen him wear.

"Hello, handsome." she murmured, continuing to cook.

Lorcan stood still in the threshold for a while without saying anything, as if to sort the situation out. Then, without taking his eyes off what she was doing, he took off his jacket and shoes and walked into the kitchen, "How are you feeling?"

Elide had her back to him as she washed some tomatoes, "Just a bit of a headache. I threw up again when I woke up, but other than that I'm fine."

"Did you drink some water? Had breakfast?" he asked her.

Elide shook her head looking at him, "I woke up after noon, Aelin and Lysandra came over." then frowned, "I think it's their fault I threw up."

Lorcan chuckled, "Sure, absolutely." then he gathered his hair into a messy bun and Elide focused on the way the muscles of his biceps tensed every time he pulled on the elastic, "It's not the alcoholic coma from last night at all."

Elide gathered some courage and taking a deep breath, said, "About last night-"

"We don't have to talk about it," Lorcan immediately interrupted her.

She looked up at him, trying not to show any emotion, trying to read his on that sculptural face that remained impassive. Then, seeing the way he was looking at her, she came to a conclusion.

She arched an eyebrow, plastering a grin on her face, "Does this mean you didn't like my tits?"

Lorcan turned red in the face before stuttering, "No. I mean, yes! No, fuck. Shit... I don't know."

Elide chuckled and began to dress their salad, "You've never seen a pair of tits before?" she asked knowing full well how untrue that was.

When she had moved into the flat, both she and he had had their own wild nights out where they brought home a different partner every weekend. On one occasion, Elide had been stunned when she came out of her room and bumped into a girl she had spent the night with a few weeks earlier. The girl had only bid her good morning, winking, before returning to Lorcan's room.

"No, it's not that," he muttered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So surely you'll have other samples to compare my boobs to and you'll be able to tell me if they're above average," she continued, prolonging this gentle torture.

He sat down, both elbows resting on the table, and rested his chin on his clasped hands. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds, then whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making our lunch," she replied innocently.

She heard him breathe through his nose, "Why are we talking about your tits, I meant?"

"Uh," she smiled, casting him another quick glance, "I didn't think you were so grossed out that you can't even handle a conversation about them."

The frown on his face went deeper and deeper. He remained silent for so long that Elide thought he would never say anything again, that she would never get his thoughts on her breasts, but when she served the salad, sitting down in front of him, he finally spoke.

"It's not that," he repeated, looking away, "they're very nice. Balanced." he began to eat undisturbed and Elide grimaced in amusement, finding a way to keep the conversation going.

"Balanced? What are they? An economic system?"

Lorcan clenched his jaw, setting his fork down on his plate and looking into her face again. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, that she was risking losing her sanity, but she had to know, had to-

"They're perfect and, maybe they are because they're attached to you, but they're probably the most beautiful tits I've ever seen."

Elide's brain shut down. And he seemed to realise it too because the shadow of a smile began to form on his lips.

Lorcan leaned forward on the table and her eyes snapped to his arms. Fingers flexing, interlocking, caught her attention completely. She returned her gaze to his, feeling her body heat up as he resumed speaking. "If I'm going to be completely honest... If you want the details, Elide," the way he said her name made her most intimate part clench around nothing, "I've never seen such nice, small nipples and that pink?" he shut his eyes, moaning as he brought one of the tomatoes to his mouth and wrapped his lips around the fork.

Elide swallowed the mouthful that had been in her mouth for over a minute and nearly choked when he opened his eyes again and they were darker than normal if that was possible.

She looked away, too many feelings building up inside her, but crossed her legs, trying to relieve some of the tension there.

"Wasn't that enough, Ellie?" he asked in a rough voice, biting into an olive, making sure she saw the way his lips closed around it.

She swallowed again, "No, it was fine..." she cleared her throat when it came out too weak, "Thanks for the feedback."

Lorcan let go a throaty chuckle, "The pleasure is all mine."

***

Like every Sunday evening, the whole group had gathered at the twins' house. And that night everyone was there, although Vaughan and Vesta, along with Aedion and Sorrel, had gone out into the back yard a few hours ago and had not yet returned. Elide suspected they'd taken to smoking.

Those left in the house were playing one of the most popular games, "I feel like."

The game had no real objective, other than to embarrass people or get them to confess to extreme or obscene sexual acts. It was simply a matter of drawing a card, reading what it said and giving it to the person you thought had done the closest thing to what was described on the card. The only real rule was that you had to tell the whole story of what happened if the card you were handed told the truth.

Quite often the game would be interrupted because one of the two sides of the various couples would cheat, change the rules and instead of passing it on to the appropriate person, they would pass it on to their partner as an invitation to lock themselves in the first spare room they could find to experiment with what was asked by the game.

The cards could range from as basic things as "I feel like your first time was in a public restroom." to as a bit more hardcore as "I feel like you got fisted in the woods."

And in that moment, Elide had a strong feeling that Rowan and Aelin would soon be going home.

"Oh my fucking god," Rowan muttered as he read the words on the card, turning red from head to toe. He looked up at Aelin, swallowing and making his adam's apple bob, "Where do you even find these games?"

Elide giggled beside him, "There's a girl on the internet who updates the cards every month and puts them up for sale, we take turns to see who has to buy them each time."

"Oh god," he said shaking his head. When he slid the card in Aelin's direction, the girl leaned towards him to leave a soft kiss on his lips and when they broke away they were both smiling. Aelin read what was written on the card and for a second it seemed like the colour drained from her face, but then she blinked and cleared her throat, looking at Rowan with wide eyes.

"Maybe we should go away. To try it out." she murmured, so quietly that only those on the couch with them heard her.

Elide looked up at the boy next to her, or rather, behind her, to see if he was listening, but he seemed lost in thought. He had been absentmindedly stroking her arm since they had settled there, and Elide didn't think she had ever been so relaxed in her life.

She and Lorcan were sitting at one end of the sofa, opposite to Rowan and Aelin, her between his legs and with her back against his chest. Every time one of them laughed, their bodies moved closer together and now she had her head resting on the part of his chest between his neck and shoulder.

She was home.

Fenrys and Connall, across the living room, sitting on the floor, booed.

"You can't pass them all on to her!" complained Lysandra.

Aelin didn't even look at her as she spoke, her eyes always fixed on Rowan's, as if they were having a telepathic conversation, "Lys, shut up."

Her friend gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"I say we vote to kick them out of the room," Asterin said, in exactly the same position she was in, but between her boyfriend's legs. Half the people in the room raised their hands to the sky, making Aelin roll her eyes.

Fenrys nodded, always ready to back Asterin up in whatever situation they were in, "It's starting to smell like Rowaelin in here."

Lorcan chuckled behind her, knocking her forward. And as the others lost themselves in the chatter, Elide shifted her gaze to Manon, who sat in the armchair next to the couch, one hand in Dorian's hair, who sat with his head resting on the armrest.

Her friend's bright eyes sparkled with malice as she arched an eyebrow and gestured to the boy she was practically sitting on. Elide felt her cheeks blush, but smiled naively at her, pretending not to know what she was alluding to. Manon smiled back.

Elide had never spoken openly to her about Lorcan, not in that way at least, but she knew Manon knew - in fact, now that she thought about it, she had never had to do that with anyone. Everyone had been rather quick to catch on that. Everyone except Lorcan.

The hand on her arm stopped, clinging completely against her skin and Elide had to force herself not to look at him, but then he lowered himself onto her and whispered in her ear, "Ellie."

She turned her head just enough to look at him and his lips brushed her cheek, so briefly that she thought she had imagined it. Lorcan had pulled back and was now looking into her eyes, "Your turn."

She blinked and turned towards the others, only realising at that moment that all eyes were on them. She felt her face burn, but she nodded, putting a hand on Lorcan's knee and pushing herself forward, rubbing her ass on the crotch of his trousers. She'd been doing this all night, all night teasing him, just as he was teasing her, brushing the side of the breasts from time to time.

And each time, Lorcan would burst into a coughing fit and move further back, which only gave Elide a chance to grind even harder against him in an attempt to regain the comfortable position they were in before.

As she settled back into her seat, she met Fenrys' gaze, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. She lowered her eyes to the maroon card in her hands quickly, shimming her hips between his legs. Lorcan's hands ended on her shoulders and she looked up at him, batting her eyelids like a fawn.

"Stop moving around so much," he grumbled.

She smiled gently and then took up reading. She hadn't touched alcohol that night, for obvious reasons, but she still found it hard to understand what was written there when Lorcan's fingers began to draw imaginary lines across her bare skin.

"I feel like..." she whispered, her eyes going wide. She looked across the sofa at Rowan.

The friend gave her a chuckle, "I told you they seemed a bit extreme."

I feel like you performed a titjob on someone while being eaten out.

Before she could realise what she was doing, she said, "Can I give myself the card or...?"

Dorian turned a quizzical look on her, "You know you have to-"

Fenrys shrieked something unintelligible, but that stopped Dorian. Manon above them clenched her hands into fists, her eyes half-closed at the sudden commotion, "I haven't killed you yet just because-"

"Yeah yeah, just because of Asterin, I get it," Fenrys replied moving a hand midair, his gaze never leaving Elide's, who in a moment of clarity realised what Dorian was about to say. What the blond said only served to confirm her fear, "But Elide just confessed to doing whatever is written on it and I want to know every detail."

She felt Lorcan stiffen behind her and then Elide realised something else entirely. He must have read what was written on the card.

"So?" pressed Aelin, leaning over Rowan and snatching the card from Elide's hands. She opened her mouth wide with an amused expression, then put on a pout, looking at her boyfriend, "These are the things I sometimes wish you'd be a little more open about."

Rowan arched an eyebrow, reading the card in turn, "We can do those two things at the same time and without anyone else having to see you naked."

Lysandra, next to them, picked up the card, "Oh, Aedion and I did that too. Although it was a normal blowjob, no titty job." she exclaimed happily.

One thing that pleased Elide greatly was the fact that no one in that room would judge her for what she did in the bedroom and who she did it with. Also because there was a high probability that they had done it too.

And slowly the card was passed among all the members of their group and when it reached Fenrys and Asterin, the girl winked at Elide, murmuring a sensual, "I've never done it, but I'm sure it wouldn't hurt." Fenrys winked behind her, intertwining their hands. Asterin's smile only grew wider, before she added, "You have our numbers."

Elide blushed, but smiled anyway, nodding.

Everyone began to talk about the various possibilities, as they did during every turn, and the card finally passed from Dorian and Manon and the two exchanged only a glance before giving the card to Lorcan.

Lorcan who was taking deep breaths one after the other and had his eyes closed. Elide had never seen him so focused in her life. She noticed the way he contracted and relaxed his jaw repeatedly and frowned.

Was he alright?

She ran a finger over his thigh to get his attention, tracing a line from his knee to where his leg touched her hip and Lorcan let go a shuddering breath, opening his eyes slightly and tightening his grip on her shoulders, "I don't think you should do that." his voice so hoarse and deep that Elide felt her stomach knot. She didn't understand what he was referring to.

And then she felt it.

Hard and... thick against her ass.

She opened her eyes wide, pointing them at him, and held her breath. She had to stop herself from opening her mouth in surprise, but she couldn't stop herself when her hips pushed against Lorcan's now obvious erection.

Elide had never been so happy to hear Fenrys' laughter as she was at that moment, because if it hadn't been for the sudden noise, the moans that escaped them both would have been heard all too well and neither of them would have been able to look at anyone else in the room for the rest of their lives.

Lorcan swallowed, breathing through his nostrils, and his gaze fell to her lips. Her eyes did the same and she didn't care that they were among everyone and would have everyone's eyes on them if they did exactly what Elide was thinking, because his lips parted slightly and he whispered her name and she was lost.

Without thinking about it for another second, Elide turned just enough to have her face directly in front of his and closed her eyes, feeling his lips brush hers. She released a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Lorcan,"

And then she kissed him, and it was exactly as she had always dreamed it would be, as his lips moved with hers and they tasted and breathed from each other. A sound that Elide had never made in her life rose up her throat as Lorcan shifted and with a sharp movement of his hips turned her fully towards him and now she was on her knees in front of him, both of them breathing heavily as they looked into each other's eyes.

Someone coughed in the room and she heard Aelin whisper a weak "fucking finally", but Elide didn't give a shit.

She placed her hands on Lorcan's face, tilting his head back so she could reach him better. The second his hands landed on her hips, their lips collided again in a fierce kiss and his tongue found its way into her mouth.

The first touch of their tongues was like having a thousand fireworks explode in her mouth.

"Okay, it's time to join the others," Manon murmured.

Elide heard Fenrys mutter, "Please not on the couch, there are guest rooms upstairs."

Lorcan pulled away from her just enough to see what was going on around them and her hands slid around his neck, ending in his hair as she admired the line of his cheekbones and the way his lashes caressed his skin every time he closed his eyes.

God, he was beautiful.

"Which one can we use?" asked Lorcan as he looked at Fenrys.

Elide's eyes went wide, causing him to turn towards her. She ran a thumb over his lower lip, smirking, "So sure of yourself."

Without missing a beat, Lorcan mimicked her grin and squeezed her hips, "You don't want to?"

Elide smiled, turning towards her friends, stopping to look at Fenrys, "The second on the left right?"

When the owner of the house winked at her, nodding, she stood up, pulling Lorcan with her, who had a confused look on his face, "Why do you know that?"

She had the decency to blush, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs, "You don't want to know."

Lysandra burst out laughing as everyone resumed their seats on the floor or the couch, "You really don't."

Elide tugged at him more insistently, not looking at Lorcan's reaction to those words. She just wanted to get to the room and lock herself in with him.

When she felt his hand settle on her hip and slide down to her ass cheek, where he paused to give it a squeeze, she almost turned and slammed him against the wall just so she could continue kissing him how she needed to.

They arrived in front of the door and she stopped with her fingers on the handle, once inside there would be no stopping. There would be no point of return.

His fingers brushed her cheek and she turned to face him, who now wore a ravenous, excited look, but Elide could see the concern and hesitation in taking the next step, "We don't have to do anything, Ellie."

She nodded, because she knew that was the case, but squeezed his hand to emphasize what he said, "But I want to."

"Good thing, cause the thought of you fucking those two gave me some ideas."

She grinned, placing a hand on his chest, "I wasn't the one doing the titty work, but we can always try."

Lorcan groaned softly at the knowledge of Elide licking another girl and then pushed the door open, backing in and taking his-

Whatever Elide was at that moment to him, it wasn't important.

The only thing that was important was his lips on hers.

The difference in height wasn't making it easy for him, and when he leaned down even further, never breaking the kiss, to run his hands under her knees and pull her up, Elide seemed to understand that right away and, pulling away just enough to jump into his arms, they found themselves on each other in seconds.

Lorcan bit her lower lip, making her moan, and when he moved to her jaw, nipping lightly at her skin, Elide threw her head back, pushing her hips against his and drawing a groan from both of them.

He immediately took the opportunity to latch his lips onto the smooth, quivering skin of her neck, feeling the bed behind his knees and sitting up, letting her straddle him. His hands moved up her legs, caressing her inner thighs, but never really getting close to where she needed him most.

Elide began to grope his chest, grazing the skin of his arms, but never staying in one spot, until Lorcan began to suck at the bare skin between her neck and shoulder and she nudged him slightly.

He quickly pulled away, panting, "What?"

There were too many layers. Keeping her eyes fixed on his, Elide lowered her hands to the hem of her shirt and slipped it off in one swift movement. She smiled smugly when she could finally see Lorcan's reaction to her bare tits.

His eyes were slightly wider than usual and his pupils so dilated that Elide realised that she had never noticed that Lorcan's eye colour was not black, but just a very dark brown. When he looked at her, the words died in her throat.

"I love it when you don't wear a bra," he murmured, reaching up to her and brushing her lips with his, "But I love even more the way you shiver every time I do this."

Elide didn't have a chance to dwell on the way he'd said love, because without her noticing, his hands had found their place on her waist and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure when he brushed the sides of her breasts with his thumbs.

He pushed himself further against her, brushing his lips over her ear, "When we're alone and you don't have to hold back, I want you to scream my name." and then he moved quickly, leaving only a light kiss on her shoulder before his lips closed around a sensitive nipple.

With the first sweep of his tongue around the hard bead, Elide whimpered, pushing her hips down against his and making him moan into her chest. She brought her hands into his hair, clenching and pulling each time his teeth bit or scraped the sensitive skin around the nipple.

When he seemed to want to move on to the other breast, Elide shook her head, pulling his hair back to its roots and forcing her mouth against his, making him grunt. She had to feel him.

"Lorcan," she breathed, between kisses, "I need to touch you."

One of her hands slipped between the two of them, palming him through the sweatpants that did little to hide Lorcan's huge boner. He moaned against her chin, "Fuck."

They pulled apart again and when he had stripped off his shirt, Elide didn't waste a moment and pressed her bare chest against his, causing him to fall back onto the mattress.

Lorcan had other ideas though, because in one smooth motion she found herself lying on her back, his gentle weight pressing her against the covers and his bright smile lighting up his face. He left a kiss on her nose, on her lips and then down to the split in the middle of her breasts and her eyes rolled back in her head as a flashback from two nights before appeared in her head, of Lorcan doing the same thing with his eyes as they danced.

"Can I take these off?" he asked her, once he reached her hips where he was leaving kisses light as feathers.

Elide was breathing raggedly, but nodded when she understood he was talking about her leggings. Still keeping her eyes closed, she lifted her hips off the mattress, closing her fists around the covers as her bottoms disappeared along with her socks and the cold air hit her bare skin.

Now only the thin fabric of her black panties separated her from achieving what she wanted.

That and Lorcan's slacks.

"Ellie." she heard him as he came back on top of her, one knee between her legs to keep his balance. She licked her lip, opening her eyes and keeping her gaze fixed on him, on that perfect face.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked in a whisper, as if afraid the answer would be no. She had them, but they were downstairs, in her purse, and she had no desire to leave the room right then.

Lorcan arched an eyebrow, "I'm not having sex with you tonight, Elide."

She frowned, folding her arms under her and propping herself up on her elbows, "What does that mean?"

"That I'm not completely sober," he said, leaning his head towards her chest, keeping his eyes fixed in hers, "And the first time it'll be inside you," he murmured in a rougher voice, placing a light kiss on the nipple he hadn't licked before, "I want it to be at a time when I'm lucid and can remember all the noises and moans you make." and then he gave the same attention to her other breast, pushing her against the mattress one more time, until Elide was a squirming mess under him and deemed his treatment sufficient.

"Now I'm going to slip these off," Lorcan murmured, grazing a finger along the hem of her panties, and Elide shuddered, "and touch you. Here." the same finger slid across her covered folds, starting at her clit and following her slit to her entrance. "Already so wet for me."

Elide thrashed on the bed, moaning softly as he applied a little more pressure, "Stop teasing, we'll have time for that when we get home." she managed to toss out between shaky breaths.

"Understood ma'am." he taunted, grabbing the edges of the thing and pulling it down. The sound that burst from him was completely animalistic and threatened to make Elide come before he even really touched her. "So beautiful." he said, kneeling in front of her.

Lorcan's hands wrapped around her ankles and he pushed her legs up, placing her feet on the edge of the bed, until she was left with her knees bent and her pussy at his full disposal. Elide risked looking down between her legs and her eyes locked into his as he lowered himself onto her and smiled.

The way her chest rose and fell made her tits bounce and Lorcan seemed to appreciate it, but he didn't seem to be planning to do anything. Elide tipped her head back, whispering in a weak voice, "Do something, please."

He laughed and her muscles flexed, clenching around nothing. It was at that moment that she felt him, his breath on the most sensitive part of her body. "I'm going to make you cum so fast you won't have time to count to a hundred."

Lorcan's fingers came off her ankles and went to part her lips, making her feel the warm air of his breathe even more. He parted them until he was satisfied and Elide lowered her gaze just as his tongue made contact with her throbbing core. A rush of pleasure coursed through her body, making her legs tremble, "Lor," she moaned.

"Mh, El," he closed his lips around her clit, pressing his tongue against the pearl over and over, until Elide repeated his name like a prayer, "So good. You taste so good."

Her hands ended up in his hair again, pushing his face against her sex, seeking more. She began to move her hips, following the strokes of his mouth on her, but one of Lorcan's arms slithered around her pelvis and pinned her to the bed, lapping her juices as with his thumb he reached to massage her clit with such precision that Elide knew that whatever she would do on her own in the future, she would never be able to match how he was making her feel.

Elide cried out in pleasure, bringing a hand to her mouth as she felt his tongue thrust into her and an all too familiar warmth build up in the pit of her stomach.

She brought one hand up to massage the nipple he had only kissed and made a choked sound, her hips jerking upwards.

Lorcan moaned against her, a new sound, different from any he'd made so far, and Elide couldn't help herself. She pulled herself up onto her elbows, continuing to touch herself as he kept sending jolts of pleasure with every thrust of his tongue and every caress of his thumb, and the sight of him eating her out would have been enough to push her over the edge, but the hand wrapped around his thick, throbbing cock pumping relentlessly was the thing that made her eyes roll back and explode as the rope inside her snapped. Her legs gave out, falling over the edge of the bed and finding their place on Lorcan's shoulders.

Her mouth gaped open in a silent scream as her whole body trembled in pleasure as wave after wave surged through her and her back arched so wide she broke away from the bed.

Lorcan didn't stop touching her, but he pulled his mouth away from her, still massaging her clit until Elide was too sensitive and with a groan she tightened a hand around his wrist to push him away. She heard him grunt and then moan, but she didn't have the strength to lower her gaze to what she knew very well was a cumming Lorcan.

She was breathing hard, one hand on her stomach to rest and the other still clasped around his.

Every now and then her body was shaken by a spasm, but she managed to calm down after a few minutes and close her aching legs. She rolled onto her side, letting go of his wrist.

Lorcan was also breathless and kept his forehead pressed against the edge of the bed.

Elide felt a tinge of pain tingle through her heart. She pulled herself up just enough to look into his face, "Lor?"

She reached out a hand towards him, placing it on his shoulder, at which he raised his head and looked at her with bright eyes and an open mouth, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, smiling at him and falling back into the now unmade blankets, "Never been better."

He chuckled deeply, moving from his position on the floor and causing at least two joints in his legs to crack.

The moment Elide saw he'd managed to get at least halfway out of his trousers, her throat went dry. And her brain forgot how to talk when she noticed he wasn't wearing boxers. Elide knew Lorcan often went commando, but seeing it with her own eyes was a different story. Seeing him, was a completely different thing from feeling him against her.

She swallowed. She'd intended to scold him for taking all the fun out of both of them by touching himself, but maybe Elide had overestimated her abilities, because the idea of having to give Lorcan a blowjob when his dick was like this-

"If you keep looking at me like that I'm not sure I can keep the promise I made to myself," he murmured in a serious voice.

Elide looked up at his face and sighed as she saw his eyes as dark as before, just moments before he pulled off his clothes completely and lay down beside her on the other side of the bed.

It didn't take her even half a second to wrap herself around him and press her body against Lorcan's side as he draped an arm around her shoulders.

His fingertips began to trace idle lines on her shoulder as he had done only half an hour before on the couch in front of everyone.

A satisfied and surprised laugh came out of her. Lorcan put his hand under her chin and when she looked up at him he had an equally satisfied smile on his lips. He pushed her head towards his, causing their mouths to collide in a brief kiss that was chaste in comparison to what they had just done and when they broke away, Elide frowned, "I didn't like you touching yourself without giving me a chance to enjoy this in turn."

The corner of Lorcan's mouth turned up, "Sorry honey, but seeing you naked like that on the bed for me has been my dream for a little too long and I was sure I would have come in zero time if I had let you touch me. It would have been embarrassing." he whispered, caressing her cheek.

Elide tried to suppress a smile, failing miserably. She decided to tease him a little, "I thought I heard you say you lasted long in bed, didn't you?"

He chuckled, "You know it's hard to rely on stamina when the girl in question is you."

At those words she felt a particularly strong surge of affection for the boy who had given her one of the most intense orgasms she had ever received and she pushed herself closer against him, making her bare breasts feel against his skin.

Lorcan turned slightly towards her, looking into her face.

He looked so relaxed.

She knew he was.

But there was something that didn't allow her to be one hundred percent.

She fixed her eyes on his, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart. The hand Lorcan had held behind his head until now came to rest on hers, squeezing her fingers tight.

Elide took a shuddering breath, "Now what?"

Lorcan suppressed a yawn, "I guess it's not a problem if we stay here and sleep-"

"No, I'm saying," she interrupted him, looking away, "what do we do now? You and I." then, realizing that question couldn't have been more vague, she closed her eyes, mustering courage, "What are we now?"

"Whatever you want us to be, Ellie," he said softly, starting to stroke her hand, "But I want one thing to be clear. And I'd like you to look at me while I say it."

Elide opened her eyes, lifting her chin slightly so she could see him better, and gave him a small smile, which he immediately returned.

"What is it?"

Lorcan's gaze moved to her lips, before returning to her eyes, "I like you, Elide."

She stopped breathing.

"I really like you and whatever you decide to do with me, I'll respect that, but I also want to say that if you don't want anything exclusive, then this will have been a one night stand and won't happen again."

Although she also wanted exactly the same things, hearing him say them made her chest hurt, because the prospect of not being able to have him again so soon after just finally finding him hurt.

She cleared her throat, nodding, "I like you too." she whispered, noticing his eyes widen a little, "And I don't want you going with any other girls besides me if we decide to continue with this." Lorcan nodded, agreeing with her, then continued, "If you don't want a relationship right away, I can understand that, but know that I do." she felt herself blush as she finally admitted the truth out loud, looking away, "And I know our situation isn't the best with being roommates and all-"

"Our situation is perfect," Lorcan corrected her, moving a strand of hair out of her face.

She looked at him again, seeing him smile.

"Ellie, you're my best friend. The person who knows me the most out of all the people I consider important. We already live together, we won't have to fight over who to stay at every night. We won't have to go on any awkward first dates and the sex seems phenomenal to me," a lump formed in her throat as she tried to keep her breathing regular, but found it difficult when he smiled at her more broadly, "I waited months for you to see that the playlists were all declarations and hoped that after Friday night something would change. For once I won."

Elide figured he was talking about what had happened at the club, but if she was going to be completely honest... "I was the one who showed you my tits twice, letting you know I wanted something more. Don't take all the credit."

Lorcan burst out laughing and it sounded more scratchy than usual, "I'm sorry, you're right."

He kissed her again and again, and held her close as he ran his fingers through her hair and murmured the words to a love song, and before long she fell asleep in his arms, making Lorcan the happiest man in the world.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed, just send an ask or dm me)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @ladywitchling @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @anne-reads @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @simping4bookboisngrls @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @miserablemusings @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @the-regal-warrior

#elorcan #elorcan fic #elorcan smut #elorcan fluff #tog fic #throne of glass #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin #lysandra ennar #fenrys moonbeam #dorian havillard #manon blackbeak #manorian #asterin blackbeak #honey

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ever-is-typing · 3 years

Note

Since I saw you do skins hdc can I request own for Desolate sand pleeeaaase 😗

note: yessssssss desolate sand :sobbing: legit so angry at myself for not being into the game when he was available he's so awesome >:(

🪙⏳ Desolate Sand!Andrew (Grave Keeper)⏳🪙 relationship headcanons

• the gold rush inspired many people to travel west-

• and you were certainly no exception.

• be it to chase a dream or to escape the dreariness of everyday life, you made the journey for the opportunity of a lifetime!

• though, your "opportunity" was cut rather short when Marshall- the wealthiest gold digger in the west- was murdered,,,

• and you were considered a suspect in aforementioned murder,,,

• then again, you weren't the only suspect in this ordeal.

• there were a variety of interesting characters involved- a bounty hunter, a western tycoon...

• and a mysterious masked stranger, just to name a few.

• like you, he wasn't from this small western town- no one knew where he was from, really

• either way, though, you were both outsiders. but that was about where the similarities ended

• this stranger was cloaked in secrecy. he covered his face with a dark bandana, but that didn't help to conceal the shocking red tint of his eyes or the stark whiteness of his hair.

• you were taken aback by his features at first, but you didn't find them as strange as the golden shovel he carried on his person at all times

• like what do you need a shovel for in the wild west bro that's kinda ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ ಠ_ಠ

• he didn't have a name- or, rather, he never told it to anyone. so, when they're not calling him a "demon" because of his unusual appearance, the townsfolk took to calling him "Desolate Sand" for his solemn and enigmatic nature

• and, unlike everyone else involved in the crime, he didn't seem to care too much for money, which was practically unthinkable

• so yeah you were definitely intrigued by Desolate Sand from the start

• he, on the other hand, wasn't too keen on making friends. in his eyes, the westerners were all corrupt... putting their faith in gold coins instead of God, so they weren't worth his time

• but, when he sees you from the other side of the bar one day, fiddling with your empty glass, something about you stands out as different

• maybe it's the worry in your expression? the unspoken plea of innocence in your wide eyes? something about it just seemed so human...

• and, being a suspect of murder, he saw it as a breath of fresh air and rationale. you weren't like these other suspects, with their petty obsession for wealth and status.

• you were a person of reason, like him. a humble survivor of life, just trying to deliver God's justice in your own way...

• or, at least, he hoped so when he slid down into the seat next to you.

• "You look like you could use another drink, dollface."

• as he gestures for the bartender to fill your glass with the alcohol of your choice, you couldn't help but feel the corner of your thoughtful frown tug up into a smile

• "Dollface? That's awfully flattering for someone you don't even know." you would snort cheekily, looking him up and down. "Anything complimentary I should be calling you, stranger?"

• "The folks in these parts have taken to calling me Desolate Sand," he would respond, tipping his hat respectfully. "But something tells me you already knew that."

• you would nod, sipping on your drink in silence. at this point in the investigation, there wasn't anyone who didn't know about this mysterious man.

• "Well then, Mr. Desolate Sand, you can call me Y/N. Y/N L/N."

• "Charmed, Y/N L/N."

• "Likewise."

• from then on, you two would keep meeting at that spot in the bar- you spent most of your time together talking about your dreams for the future and your goals by travelling west

• or, at least, you did. Desolate Sand was rather reserved about his past, but he was more than happy to listen to you talk about yours. what a gentleman (¬‿¬)

• and, with every meeting you had, the both of you began to fall in love without even really noticing at first...

• ...which caused more worry to Desolate Sand than it did to you. you were a kind soul, a good person. you didn't deserve to be with a filthy sinner like him.

• besides, he's done some pretty horrible things in his life...

•...like killing Marshall-

• omg plot twist!! (o‿o)

• so, when you finally admitted your feelings to him and he hit you with that information, it was like a punch to the gut.

• up until this point, you had really grown to trust him- but this confession just felt like the grossest betrayal possible. what other horrible secrets was he keeping from you?

• so, not wanting to find out, you ran away.

• of course, Desolate Sand had his reasons for bringing that sickening man Marshall to his end. reasons he would never want to get you involved in.

• his deliverance of justice shouldn't come at the cost of a good heart like yours- so, even if it hurt, scaring you away from him was the safest option

• though, of course, that backfired on him once the infamous bounty hunter Black Rose got her hands on you.

• she was rather livid when she heard that someone else had gotten to Marshall before her-

• he was always at the top of her hit list, and she was expecting to draw a pretty penny out of his death before someone else had stolen the kill.

• turns out pretending to be a bartender is a great way to eavesdrop for information- and, seeing two of her fellow murder suspects chatting so pleasantly at the bar was quite intriguing to her.

• and how convenient that the mysterious stranger confessed to murder within earshot (even though she was already spying on you guys)!!

• "So, tell me, L/N," she cooed, pressing her cold black pistol to the side of your head. "Do you think that killing Mr. Desolate Sand will be enough for me to collect my bounty, or no? Perhaps I should take you out, too, just to compensate for all of the trouble your little lover has caused me-"

• "You get your filthy fuckin' hands off of them right now."

• even though he was far enough away from you that you could only see his silhouette, the rage in his eyes burned brightly enough that he was practically a beacon of raw emotion

• despite his obvious anger, though, Desolate Sand still leveled his revolver at her head with the confidence of someone who's shot it before

• and, though you were relieved to see him come to your aid, that remaining fact still scared you. the man you had grown to love had still killed a man.

• "So, what's it going to be, Desolate Sand?" Black Rose hollered. "You gonna turn yourself over to me so that I can collect my coin, or is pretty little Y/N here gonna have to die first?"

• Desolate Sand inwardly scoffed. it was always about coin in the west...

• the two stood in a silent stalemate for a while. neither moved a single inch out of place...

•...and that was starting to get on your nerves.

• so, you directed all of that pent up frustration into stabbing Black Rose in the gut with your elbow!

• she was actually caught quite off guard, so much so that she stumbled backwards and fumbled with the trigger of her gun-

• and suddenly, BANG.

•...though Desolate Sand's gun was the only one with one less bullet.

• Black Rose howled in pain and clutched her leg, red pooling around the flesh the bullet tore through

• you stumbled back, dazed by the sight, right into Desolate Sand's arms.

• you were at a loss for words- you didn't even know whether to thank him or apologize.

• though the urgency in his eyes told you right away that you had time for neither

• "Y/N, we don't have a lot of time here. The townsfolk will be out here any minute once they hear this broad screaming. She'll say we tried to kill her, so I'm going to get you onto a horse and send you away while I take care of all this-"

• you were very quick to shut him up with a kiss

• he was shocked for a moment, but he found himself slowly melting into it- you tasted absolutely heavenly.

• when you two regretfully pulled away for air, you told him very passionately that you weren't just going to leave him all alone.

• you'd take your hands in his, rubbing your thumbs over his hard leather gloves...

• "Desolate Sand, I... I know you lead a pretty intense life, but... that doesn't mean you have to live it alone. Neither of us do. I love you, and I'm not ready to leave you behind yet."

• he chuckled down at you. "Funny. I was about to say the exact same thing, doll."

• and so, you both made your escape, travelling from town to town in search of a quiet place to settle down

•...though that was quite hard with all of the wanted posters with your faces on them

• yeahhhhhh you're both kind of wanted criminals now I forgot to mention that sorry

• (Well, Desolate Sand more so than you. You're labelled as an "accomplice," and they just never seem to get your nose right on the posters. ;0)

• after everything, Desolate Sand agreed to deliver his justice in a less morbid fashion. despite everything you've faced in the past/will face in the future, you're both just happy to be at each others sides- and no amount of gold could ever compare to the love that you two share. ♡

"Y/N, you've got something these westerners and I lack- a good heart. You constantly prove to be a breath of fresh air in these lawless lands... don't ever change, darling. I'll protect you with my life."

-Desolate Sand!Andrew Kreiss 🕳🕳

#idv #identity v #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv headcanons #idv scenarios #idv skin headcannons #idv andrew #idv grave keeper

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meggannn · 3 years

Text

one thing that bugs me within HZD fandom—or at least in a lot of reddit threads and the occasional tumblr note—is how the discussion of Aloy as the chosen one because of the circumstances of her birth always gets reframed around [REDACTED] in a way that discredits Aloy.

I do love the “hero is a rando” stories as much as the next person, but what I like about HZD is that it sets up Aloy to be some incredible savior and then it turns out... well, she might do cool things, but she’s kind of a jerk, actually! and she has every right to not want to help most people when she’s been hurt and mistreated by them for all of her young life.

Aloy is a hero, yes, but not because of her birth, but because she chooses to be one. and it’s a hard choice for her, because her natural inclination is to help herself—which is an understandable trait now that she is old enough to try to give herself what she was denied for nearly twenty years—and I like that they keep stressing that.

now that we’re under the cut I’m gonna talk spoilers.

Aloy is a great fighter and impressive machine-hunter and she is very smart, but that’s not because she’s Elisabet’s clone, but because she had to develop those skills to survive. every part about her personality and skillset can really be attributed to a few key elements about her: being an outcast and shunned and judged for something out of her control, growing up in the wilds in a world full of dangerous machines, not being raised with any sense of family or friends or community, and her feelings of loneliness. everything about her personality and abilities has a tie back to one or several of those things, either as a way to explain them, or overcome them. those were things Aloy did because she chose to chase the mystery of her past, but her Elisabet genes didn’t do them for her.

so it really does bug me when people talk about it as if it’s Elisabet’s acumen that should be given credit when we talk about why Aloy is the hero of her own story. I think we are far enough as a culture that we can acknowledge nurture plays a much bigger role in someone’s personality than nature, even for clones. (and I think this is why the Lightkeeper Protocol was doomed to fail anyway.) I think GAIA, when awake, may eventually struggle with this initially, calling her Elisabet instead of Aloy because it’s Elisabet she misses and wants to see again, and she doesn’t know Aloy at all—but she is an AI, and can adapt quickly.

but why I think it bothers me so much is that this “she’s a natural hero” narrative goes against Rost’s last lesson that he teaches Aloy in the prologue. Aloy’s flaws are that she is selfish and often self-centered, and doesn’t rely a lot on others, often to the point of discrediting their abilities. she barges into the Hunters Lodge and demands Talanah take her on as a thrush based on her own assumption that she’s as good a hunter, if not better, than most of the people in the building. she says “I’m faster on my own” to Erend’s incredulity, implying others would just slow her down. they’re completely understandable foibles for someone who has been alone and shunned by the world her entire life and learned to survive because of it.

but Aloy isn’t strong or smart or brave because she was a clone of Elisabet. she could have walked away from seeking revenge against the Eclipse, and arguably, she might have even done it if she hadn’t had a personal interest in the matter: finding out who Elisabet was. Sylens even calls her out multiple times for her short-sightedness in focusing on “what happened to Elisabet?” instead of "what happened to the world?” (I think in ELEUTHIA-9 she says something like "This is interesting, but it's not why I'm here though" and Sylens says sarcastically "Right, what's the whole of human history compared to the origins of one girl?")

again: it’s completely understandable that the girl raised with no family is looking for, y’know, her family, but I think it’s also a pointed choice by the writers: Aloy doesn’t really feel like she belongs to a tribe, so she feels, in some sense, that she has nothing to lose by antagonizing and refusing help to anyone. what are they going to do, banish her? her one lifeline is Rost: it’s her love for him, and his last act of sacrifice for her, that propels her self-centered (though by no means wrong) desire of “I need to find where I came from” to “these people are killers who threaten what I believe in,” and “they will kill again, and even if they will hurt the people who hurt me, many of whom I still dislike, I must do my best to stop them.”

the biggest scene that shows her laser focus on her own interests to the extent of others’ is when Erend asks her for help tracking Ersa’s killer and she denies him without the player's input. I thought that was an interesting choice because the game is canonically telling us that Aloy will barge her way past allies to get what she wants, and she will not be nice about it. like, Erend, a man grieving, tries to get her to stop for two seconds to hear out his ask for help, and she says “Out of the way” and “That’s your war, not mine.” Normally games might give you a choice to say yes or no to helping an ally, even if the game will eventually force you help them to progress the story; but the writers made a choice to show her denying a friend help, just after he helped her. It shows she’s still at the point in her journey where she sees others either as allies to help her or as foes in her way, and she might help allies if she makes time for it on her own (side quests), but when she's impatient and picks up the scent of her prey, she’s willing to ignore others’ needs.

it’s honestly debatable if she would have even cared so much about seeking revenge against the Eclipse if Helis hadn’t killed Rost: certainly she may have been interested in seeing them punished for their ambush against a bunch of Nora teenagers, but she mentions Rost the most consistently when she talks about tracking down Helis, not even Vala or the other Braves (RIP). even to Sylens, who didn’t know any of them, she says “You [didn’t say you knew the man] who killed my... who almost killed me.” (also, sob forever that Aloy still can’t call him her dad even after he’s dead, only “the man who raised her.” Rost really did not teach her to ever call him “Dad.” it’s no wonder why she was so focused on finding at least one parent, a mother, who is centered throughout Nora culture.) but the Nora ambush, while a factor, is still kind of... a side thing. she is most interested in their connection to this mysterious woman-who-might-be-her-mother, and the mystery of why they tried to kill her. people just assume that she is after them out of vengeance for the Nora, and she does not correct them as she uses her Seeker title to explore her own interests.

and speaking of Sylens, I think they are great foils for each other just for this reason: Aloy immediately senses there’s something she doesn’t like about him from basically the moment he makes contact. he’s prickly, arrogant, impatient, unsympathetic, and hates to play nice or work as a team. but like... are they really all that different? I think that Aloy sees Sylens in her future if she doesn’t learn to get along with people. like Aloy, Sylens is definitely rude to you, but I hope you realize you, too, are also pretty rude to others as well! (though you could argue this is a game mechanic so she can ask the questions that the player might be wondering.)

this is not all to say that she’s dispassionate or uncaring, or that her mission isn’t sympathetic or understandable. she helps people out, but her goal driving the story, her True North in a way, is really her own interest to find out who she is and where she came from. one of the significant moments she grows in this regard is when she comes out of ELEUTHIA-9 and decides to fight for the Nora, and for the entire world. she just discovered the truth of her birth isn't what she wanted, and she even thinks afterwards that she’s “not a person, just an instrument.” she’s devastated. what on earth does it mean, that she’s a “recreation” of Elisabet? they don’t have words for “clone” in her world—she thinks it means she’s literally not a human being. she doesn’t want a grand destiny to save the world, she just wants to find her mother and have that sense of belonging she was denied for so long, and she didn’t find that—turns out, she never had that. and now she’s being expected to take on this huge burden about restoring GAIA and fighting subfunctions that she doesn’t understand. both of her “mothers" are dead and there are a bunch of people waiting outside the bunker for her to tell them what their goddess is saying.

so when she walks out of that bunker and sees a bunch of scared, hopeful faces looking at her for answers, her decision to fight HADES—not just on behalf of GAIA but on behalf of the Nora and Carja and Oseram and all others—is her accepting that even though she isn’t what she thought and didn’t get what she wanted, she needs to help others because she is a still part of this world and can make a difference. that’s what makes her heroic. her hero-worship of Elisabet is understandable, but it’s not what’s going to get her through the next challenges in her life—only her own growth and commitment to doing good will do that.

when she tells Rost “if I’m going to fight for something, it’s going to be something I believe in,” I think that was her saying “I’ll fight for that something, but if I find it, I think I’ll end up finding it on my own, and it won’t be with the Nora.” at that time in her journey, she was running the Proving to get something for herself, not to serve the Nora, which she would have been expected to do normally if she had successfully completed it. but she does find something to believe in, and it is with the Nora, both physically in the mountain, and in the spirit of any community: it’s not Elisabet herself, like she thought, but it is what Elisabet stood for, and died for. she may not fully understand what GAIA or the subfunctions are yet, but she knows that their survival and mutual cooperation are necessary for the betterment of people now and civilizations everywhere. she isn’t really fighting for Elisabet or the Old Ones, or I don’t think so, at least—I think it is a factor to do all of this in Elisabet’s memory, in some way, but mostly I think she’s fighting for people alive today. it’s the same conclusion Elisabet came to: the Old Ones are doomed, but people of the future might still have a chance, and that chance is worth her dedication.

but how how a lonely girl ends up fighting to save the world when she barely understands it or the people in it, is an interesting challenge. for this reason I also expect to see her faults in full display in the sequels. Aloy’s tactlessness is a big flaw of hers when it comes to her dismissiveness and occasional derision toward any religion/cultural traditions she doesn’t understand or value. she works through this in some way over the course of the story, like when she decides to spare the Nora the truth of their goddess with an easy lie after leaving ELEUTHIA-9, but particularly in the DLC (which can take place at any point in the story), she challenges a werak to become the chieftan of a tribe she knows very little about, just to get something for herself: she wants to further her goal of investigating AI. I expect this trait of hers will be something we see more of in future games, her barging into a community she doesn’t know anything about and telling them how to do things for their own good. (I call it the “Solas Problem” from Dragon Age Inquisition.) she might be right most of the time, but she also needs to learn how to talk to the people she’s trying to save, and learn how to save them without changing who they are.

#horizon zero dawn #horizon stuff #aloy

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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Part two of three. Izuku has a new goal for this tournament, and Shouto’s getting a vibe check.

[No. 39 - Todoroki Shouto: Origin]

We start off with a brief flashback from a younger Shouto’s POV, ith Rei saying that that’s fine, he’s not…

Shouto’s narration wonders when he forgot what came after that. In the present, Shouto demands to know what Izuku is planning. Everything he’s got… did his bastard of a father pay him off or something? Shouto is pissed, and dashes forward, thinking that Izuku won’t be able to deal with him at close range. Izuku reacts by dashing forward as well, ducking low as he gets close.

In the stands, Katsuki has also notices Shouto’s slowed down, likely because of the frost covering his body. It’s different than Katsuki’s limits - kind of like magic points in a video game. The scale of that attack against Sero was probably the most he could muster.

Shouto panics just a bit, realizing Izuku had moved the instant he raised his left leg. Izuku himself is furiously muttering to himself about imagining the microwave, don’t let it explode, even as his powered-up right arm comes swinging, landing right in Shouto’s stomach.

Of course, Izuku isn’t entirely unscathed, Shouto managing to get some ice on Izuku’s left arm at the elbow before being flung away by the force of the punch. Present Mic makes a comment on things heating up, while both Izuku and Shouto take a moment to recover from the backlash of that punch. The crowds are shocked at Izuku landing a blow, but also note that he’s the one who can barely stand.

Shouto coughs, commenting on how now Izuku is on the offensive. He’s wondering how (I’m guessing on how Izuku finds the strength to keep going?), sending out another weak burst of ice that Izuku leaps over. Izuku comments on how Shouto’s not just slowing down, but his ice is weakening too.

Cementoss asks Midnight if he should stop the match. It seems like Izuku’s going all out because he knows he can be healed no matter what. And he’s not feeling all the pain he’s in because his adrenaline’s pumping. But those injuries… a single healing session won’t be enough for a full recovery. Even if he wins here, he’ll be in no shape for the next match. Midnight has no reply.

Aizawa thinks back to the quirk assessment, where he told Izuku to learn to control his quirk. In the present, he notes that that control is starting to come, even if it means weaker attacks. He’s not just blindly going wild out there. In order to win, this is the best strategy for him at this point. But… even if he does know he can be healed, putting himself through all that pain takes a hell of a lot of guts.

Toshinori, however, has caught on to what the others have not, wondering what it is that’s motivating his successor. Which is a small little thing that I find neat! Toshinori’s known this kid for just over a year at this point, while the rest of the staff have only known him a few weeks.

Izuku can’t make a fist with his right hand anymore. So when Shouto sends another up-close ice attack, he puts his thumb in his mouth and uses that to flick it, destroying the ice with a crack that is equally likely to be from the thumb as it is from the ice. During all that, Shouto (or Izuku?) thinks back to Izuku’s words, about wanting to be like All Might, and for that, he has to be number one, he has to be the strongest. It might seem like a lame motivation compared to Shouto’s, but.

Shouto asks Izuku why he’s going this far. Izuku dashes in, saying he’s just trying to meet expectations. A smiling, dependable, cool hero - that’s what he wants to be.

Shouto flashes back again for a brief instant, providing enough distraction that Izuku gets in another hit. Izuku states that that’s why he’s giving it everything! For everyone! Shouto’s experiences, his determination - Izuku can’t even begin to imagine what all that is like. But if he becomes number one without giving it his all, then Izuku doesn’t think he’s serious about denying Endeavor everything.

A longer flashback. Endeavor tells his son to get up. He won’t even be able to defeat third-rate villains, let alone All Might, if he gets knocked down by a hit like that. Rei begs Endeavor to stop, that Shouto’s only five years old. Shouto looks up from where he’s kneeling on the floor in his own vomit, just in time to see Endeavor slap Rei out of the way while stating that Shouto is already five, and to get out of his way.

Present Shouto tells Izuku to shut up, his right side absolutely coated in frost.

More flashback. Young Shouto is curled up in his mother’s lap, saying that he hates his father, he doesn’t want to be like him. Someone who bullies mommy - he doesn’t wanna be like that. She rests a hand on his head, noting that he wants to be a hero, right? That’s fine, he’s not…

In the present, Izuku takes another swing, thinking back to… someone’s words about if you have a future you’re striving for, while out loud declaring that that’s why he has to win. Which I guess clarifies the earlier reasons that everyone might think this is about winning the match. Toshinori, however, is cottoning on to what’s actually happening, thinking back to his talk with Endeavor, and how Shouto won’t use his left side because of his conflict with his father, which means Izuku is…

Izuku lands his hit while stating he has to surpass Shouto.

While the other Todoroki children play soccer under the supervision of an elderly lady, Shouto watches on from the window. Endeavor grabs him by the arm and yanks him away, telling him not to look, that his siblings belong to a different world than him.

Shouto stumbles across his mom talking on the phone to her own mother. She states that she knows it’s not right, but she can’t do it anymore. The children, they’re like him more and more everyday. And Shouto, his left side - sometimes she looks at him and hates what she sees. She can’t raise him anymore; she shouldn’t raise him. The kettle rattles as Shouto peeks into the kitchen, nervous and overwhelmed by what he’s hearing. Rei… does not react well.

Shouto, a bandage over his left eye, asks Endeavor where his mom is. Endeavor states that she hurt him, so he had her put away. He calls her a fool, during this crucial time in Shouto’s development, no less. Shouto weeps, furious and upset, stating that he’ll show Endeavor, that it’s all Endeavor’s fault.

In the present, he starts to talk about how he’ll show his father, only for Izuku to interrupt -

Not quite the same line as the anime! Which I was surprised by, to be honest. Like, I get why the line was changed up for that, and both have the same meaning, but there’s… something interesting in the original version of those words as well.

We flash back again, to an All Might interview Shouto is watching with his mother. All Might states that quirks are naturally passed from parent to child. However, that’s not the only thing that matters. It’s not just blood ties - instead, one must recognize and appreciate oneself! That’s what he means when he says it - when he says ‘I am here!’

(Not gonna lie, that bit of All Might interview actually has me thinking. That comment on blood ties makes me wonder whether he’s thinking about Nana, and that line about how one must recognize and appreciate oneself seems like a lesson both Toshinori and Izuku are needing to internalize in the current manga.)

Rei notes that Shouto wants to be a hero, right? That’s fine. Shouto isn’t bound by Endeavor’s blood. He can decide who he wants to become.

Shouto is practically in tears as he wonders when he forgot that. Flames lick at the corner of his eye and cheek, right before his entire left side goes ablaze with great force.

Everyone spectating is in shock. Tenya thinks on how Shouto had stated he’d never use his left side in battle, remarking on how he’s using it now. Toshinori realizes Izuku was trying to save Shouto. Endeavor is elated by this development.

As Izuku flinches back from the heat, Shouto comments on how he thought Izuku wanted to win. So why is he trying to inspire him? Which one of them isn’t taking this seriously now? But he wants to be a hero too. Shouto and Izuku grin at each other, and so this chapter ends.

Not gonna lie, I kind of vibe with this version of The Line. It’s still similar to the more popular anime version, but it’s also just different enough that I am. Thinking. Mayhaps it shall be used one day in a fic somewhere.

Anywho, character sheet incoming. Rest of the Izuku vs Shouto match on Friday. See y’all then.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #readthrough #chapter 39 #sports festival arc #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #aizawa shouta #cementoss #yagi toshinori #todoroki enji #todoroki rei #this hits different in the manga than in the anime #i like it #feels different and new

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official-weasley · 3 years

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The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 2/6)

A fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

Warnings: dragon abuse Word Count: 2,266

“Are you ready?” Matthew was standing with me by the gates of the reserve, his arms crossed on his chest and looking like he will burst from excitement any moment now.

It’s been a week since I found out that I am going to work with a 1-year-old Hebridean Black. That, however, has been the only information Matt has given me. He has been awfully secretive about this dragon and no matter how many times I asked him about it he just told me not to worry and that I will have all my questions answered once the dragon arrives.

Today was that day and I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Not only because I didn’t know what to expect and the whole thing seemed to amuse my boss very much but also because this was a Hebridean Black – my favorite breed of dragon.

We don’t have a rule book here in the Sanctuary but we do have a few protocols we have to obey.

Wear your protective gear at work.

If you get injured, stop what you are doing immediately and find a healer.

No matter how vicious the dragon is, try to stay as calm as possible because they sense fear.

We don’t get promoted but are assigned to dragons based on our experience.

In the first year when we arrive here, we work with researchers to observe dragons – learn about their behavior and eating patterns.

In the second and third years, we either get assigned to Common Welsh Greens or Antipodean Opaleyes. If we are doing great with the latter, our superior might assign us to one of the fliers so we can start training to fly on a dragon.

That is a crucial practice for working with dragons later on because part of the daily routine is to take them out for a flight. The training usually lasts for 6 months and then we have to pass the flying exam – which I passed with flying colors on the first try, of course!

Then in year four we usually continue with Opaleyes. I was lucky enough to get a chance to work with two Chinese Fireballs.

In years five and six we are assigned to a new breed, the Swedish Short-Snout, and we train with the healers to learn how to heal and recognize symptoms if the dragon we work with shows any signs of sickness.

For me, that dragon was a Norwegian Ridgeback. I wasn’t experienced enough to work with the breed but due to a shortage of dragonologists, Matthew assigned the dragon to me anyway, and even though it wasn’t the easiest dragon to work with I had a pleasant enough experience with it that I now visit its habitat a few times per month to say hello.

In year eight or nine we can sign up for an exchange program. It means we go and work in one of the other dragon reserves. My wish was to work in the Swedish Reserve for one year and I was over the roof when my application was approved.

My boss wanted me to apply to the Chinese Reserve so that I could work with Fireballs since I have already dealt with them but I heard that even though the Swedish Reserve mostly works with Short-Snouts they had a Peruvian Vipertooth and a Ukrainian Ironbelly.

I know I shouldn’t have gone against my boss and try and work with dragons I wasn’t ready for but I just couldn’t help myself. I knew I would be less monitored there and nobody would tell me I can’t work with a certain dragon so I had to try.

Working with a sick Norwegian Ridgeback was harder than trying to befriend a Ukrainian Ironbelly. The latter looks like it’s going to eat you at any given moment but they are harmless even though they are huge compared to the other dragons.

Because I got a certificate of successfully taming both a Vipertooth and an Ironbelly, Matthew was so impressed that once I got back I was assigned to work with 3 different dragons.

I couldn’t believe that he allowed me to work with a Peruvian Vipertooth and not one but two Romanian Longhorns. I nagged him to assign me to one of those dragons for a year before my year in Sweden and he always said I wasn’t ready. But when I came back with the letter from my Swedish trainer, Matthew couldn’t believe how well I did and decided to give me a chance to work with dragons completely on my own.

I have been working with Hel, Lasair, and Rocker for over a year and I am doing great. All three of them listen to me and I have no trouble going through their daily routines. They trust me and I have learned so much from them in such a short amount of time. And apparently, it shows since my boss assigned me to the Hebridean Black.

“I would love to say that I am ready but the look on your face concerns me.” I lifted an eyebrow at him, my palms getting sweatier.

“Look, for how many years have you been begging me to let you work with a Black? Now you’re trying to chicken out?” He smirked.

“No, of course, not. I am just curious why the sudden change of hearts. Isn’t it too dangerous? Aren’t I unqualified to take care of a Hebridean Black?”

“Asterin.”

“What?” I turned my head to him, with more questions in my head than before.

“The dragon’s name is Asterin.” He explained and nodded toward the gate where 7 wizards appeared along with a big cage with a dragon chained inside.

We hurried to them and helped them unload the dragon. I had so many questions. We have never received a dragon that was chained or that needed so many people escorting it. What was Matthew not telling me?

They told us not to take the beast out of the cage until we reach its assigned habitat. Matt called 4 of my co-workers to help levitate the cage to a secluded area that was going to be Asterin’s home for the next 3 months.

Every time we get a new dragon to live in our reserve, we put it far away from the rest of the dragons so that it can get used to the environment change first before it’s introduced to other dragons. Then we determine if the dragon is capable of living with another of its breed – we never put more than 3 together – or if they’d prefer to have their own habitat. After those 3 months, the proper training can begin.

“I need some answers.” I frowned at my boss when we were left alone with the new dragon.

“Okay, so the dragon was put through a lot. She has trust issues and is very untamed for her age. She doesn’t want to fly and barely eats anything.” He explained.

“That’s why she’s so small for her age?” I leaned to the right to get a glimpse of Asterin behind Matthew.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“But I don’t understand. The dragonologists that brought her here are from the MacFusty clan. They take care of Hebridean Blacks, why was she brought here and where did they get her from?”

“They found her.”

“What do you mean they found her? You don’t simply stumble upon a dragon!” I furrowed my brows.

“But they did – abandoned in the forest close to their reserve. They heard her cries. She had both her wings broken and half of her teeth were missing.” Matthew continued.

“That would explain the not eating and flying part.” I could feel the heat on my face. If she was found like that someone had to hurt her and then just left her. How could someone do something like that to such a beautiful creature? Why would they hurt a dragon?

“They tried taking care of her,” Matt explained further, “but after not making any progress for more than half a year they contacted me.” He locked eyes with mine and it seemed he was trying to read my face.

“What’s with the look?”

“You know that you need 15+ years of experience to work with a Hebridean Black here.”

“I do. That’s why I asked you about 50 times in the last week why did you pick me?” My heart was racing, knowing I will finally get the answer to my question.

“I didn’t.” Matt cleared his throat.

“What?” “I didn’t pick you. They did.”

“Who? The MacFusty family?” I don’t think I was ever this confused – this didn’t make any sense. I knew about the clan. They were famous for taking in Hebridean Blacks and taking care of them before releasing them into the wild but there was no way they could know about me.

“They knew that the dragon needed better care and even though their property is expanding they reckoned it would be better if the dragon is moved to a bigger reserve,” Matthew said. “They contacted the Swedish Dragon Sanctuary and they recommended the dragon to be transported here, into your care.”

“The Swedish Sanctuary?” I said more to myself than to him.

“I guess they were impressed with how a 27-year-old tamed a Ukranian Ironbelly as if it was no big deal. And your trainer, Oskar, found it amusing when you called them extra large Cruppies.” Matthew playfully shook his head.

“Well, they are. Their size is just deceiving.” I defended my statement.

“Charles, you must’ve done something to impress them so much that they thought of you when they found out about Asterin’s situation.” Matthew put his hand on my shoulder and winked at me.

“And you just agreed?” I narrowed my eyes at him. I still couldn’t believe it. They singlehandedly picked me? They thought of me to help the dragon?

I took a deep breath. I was prepared for anything when Matt was keeping all of this a secret from me but I didn’t think that this involved me on such a large scale. This was a great honor, an honor about which I didn’t know how to feel. I am good with dragons but I am not that good, am I?

It rarely happens that a dragonologist is recommended to be assigned to a dragon, especially if they are 28 years old. I’m still learning. I am still observing and studying the dragons and now the MacFusty family knows my name?

I rubbed my eyes thinking I was dreaming. This opportunity won’t only escalate my career and make my day-to-day more fun, it will also make my dream to work with a Hebridean Black come true.

“I don’t know what to say.” Was all I could muster.

“Just enjoy it, Charles. I know how much you like a challenge.” He tapped me twice on the shoulder and walked away.

I swallowed thickly and looked at the dragon who was standing still and being aware of every speck that moved.

“Hi.” I waved slowly. “My name is Charlie and I’ll be your buddy for the foreseeable future.”

The dragon’s tail started to move from left to right and I was pretty sure that if I took a step forward I would get scorched.

“It’s okay. I mean you no harm.” I bowed my head, maintaining eye contact, and then sat on the ground. “See, if you want you can eat me right now.”

I looked at Asterin’s claws which were dug deep into the earth beneath her paws. It meant that she was tense and stressed and didn’t believe a word I said to her.

“I can leave if you want. Just let me come back so I can give you some dinner.” I started to stand up but a roar straight to my face made me sit back down.

“Okay, okay. You do not agree with me leaving. I understand.” I lifted my hands in defense.

I felt like my heart was going to escape my ribcage any moment now. I wasn’t scared. I was thrilled. I could see that this was going to be a tough challenge and I couldn’t wait to see how everything will unfold.

I sat still and had a staring contest with Asterin for the next 3 hours. My bum and back were killing me but I didn’t care. The dragon didn’t move a muscle and her claws were still dug deep into the ground.

“Asterin, it’s time for dinner. How about you let me stand up?” I motioned with my head to the sky – it being dark, that’s how long we sat together in silence.

The dragon didn’t move nor blinked so I inhaled sharply and without exhaling stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact. Asterin let out a silent growl but didn’t roar, which was a good sign. I backed away and once I was out of her sight I hurried to get her food. Hebridean Blacks love venison so that was what I was going to get her.

As I was heading out of the food supply hut, I grabbed a bag of apples just in case Asterin is a vegetarian like Crystal.

The whole way back to the dragon I was debating whether or not I should stay and observe her eating or should I just leave her alone. I wanted to see if she will even want to eat and if it’s painful when she chews the meat.

My decision, however, didn’t matter when I came back with the dinner and Asterin was nowhere to be found.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #the weasleys #dragon boy #charles weasley #hebridean black #dragons #a dragon story #charie weasley hphm #dragonologist

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httpsohnpouts · 3 years

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𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓬𝓴 𝓲𝓷 𝓪 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶.

⊱ pairing: eric x fem. reader

⊱ warnings: i’m pretty sure i wrote ‘ass’ a couple times

⊱ word count: 2.8k

⊱ a/n: i try my best to make my work gender neutral but for my collab pieces where i have a lot to write, i tend to forget to write from all perspectives and therefore found it easier to make them from fem. reader perspectives, i apologise if this upsets some of my readers <3

my first collab piece! @atbzkingdom thankyou for the opportunity! i planned for this piece to be longer and better, please don’t hesitate to give me feedback as i’m still a little unsure on some parts. i’ll possibly edit and rewrite some parts in the future! thankyou and i hope you like it!

⊱ taglist: @heartyyjeno @atbzkingdom @chaoticdeobi

inserting the cassette into its player, the nostalgic melody slowly echoed around the room; you were entranced into a flood of beautiful and precious memories playing on repeat in your mind.

you were seated, cross-legged, on your roommates bed. she had invited you over upon your arrival at campus, to which you gladly took her invite, considering you wouldn’t really have a lot of time to spend with her with classes starting so soon. she was currently parading around in several different dresses, some tight, some loose, some just outright hideous. she claimed she was in a rush - her boyfriend, sangyeon, on his way to pick her up for the party they were attending that night. she ushered you to go with them but you opted out, wanting to get settled in before rushing off to a party.

pulling on the tiny bobbles on your socks, there was a knock at the door, and the next minute you were met with two guys. one in which you assumed to be sangyeon, considering your roommate sprung herself into him upon seeing his face. and the other - someone you didn’t know. that was, until he was introduced to you, as eric sohn.

your second encounter with eric, was - funnily enough - at a party. you were in your last years at college when your friends wanted to let off some steam and somehow had managed to get you to tag along with them. you couldn’t handle your alcohol very well so let’s just say you were pretty befuddled.

“woah, watch where you’re going there, princess” someone chimed.

you were wobbling slightly and accidentally backed up into someone, sending their drink down the front of their shirt.

the next thing you knew, you were being swept up by your legs, your face in vision sight with the person's back, “hey! put me down.” you screeched between each punch of your fist. whoever it was, was really enjoying themselves, chuckling at your childish behaviour.

you were finally put on your feet, coming face to face with the ever-so-rude person who happened to escort you out of the building before a fight occurred. for some odd reason you just felt feisty tonight, probably since you haven’t let yourself loosen up since the start of classes and all of your wild and chaotic energy was protruding through all at once.

“i’m guessing you’re y/n, right?” he looked oddly familiar, as did his voice, but through your blurry and clouded vision, you couldn’t really make out who it was. he must’ve sensed your hesitance, tugging at your wrist before giving you a small high five, “i’m eric.”

ever since that night, he would take you out somewhere. and for someone who hadn’t explored much or had never even gone out of their comfort zone, it meant you had a lot to see and a lot to learn.

your favourite hangout had got to be the night where he drove the two of you to an outdoor cinema, seated on a plaid blanket that laid flat against the grass, your jacket shared between the two of you, your thighs pressing against one another whilst the pillows you brought propped your heads up comfortably to watch the movie playing. every so often, you could smell eric’s perfume as it blew with the wind, intoxicating you almost. without him realising, his hand would unconsciously fall and lay on your thigh, you ignored it however, knowing he didn’t mean it and is something you shouldn’t really be making such a big deal out of.

you were occupied in the screen played before you, giving eric the chance to etch your features into his brain. he had liked you for a while, even before you first saw him in your roommates dorm, sangyeon brought him along, knowing you’d be there and thus giving eric the chance for you to finally meet him. your hair was tied back, checking the weather before leaving knowing it would be windy and figured you’d pull it back to avoid the nuisance of doing it later on, except your baby hairs escaped it’s capture in the bobble and floated around with the direction of the wind. the screen’s light shone and bounced across your face, illuminating it in a way that made you look like you were an angel visiting earth but without the wings and plus, he knew you were real. he couldn’t help himself but to occasionally stare at your hands and wonder what it would feel like fitted between his, wondering how smooth they were. oh, how much he wished he could just squish your hands together right there and then. so he settled for leaving it purposely nearer to you, hoping you’d feel the same as him, yet a little braver by slipping your fingers together. you didn’t, but he figured it was wishful thinking anyways.

or there was another time, where he snook you out of your dorm past midnight just so you could both watch the sun rise. his safe place, he’d never brought anyone there before and he told you just that, causing butterflies to flutter crazily from inside of your tummy. just like how you smiling and letting out a little giggle at one of his lame jokes, he told the boys the same one and earned an eruption of laughter but it just didn’t create the same feeling compared to when you did it.

no. your favourite moment had got to be the moment you realised you loved him. you had been working yourself to the bone upon exams nearing and eric knew this, trying his best to relax you and to take your mind off of everything causing you distress. engulfing you into his warm embrace when the tears began rolling down your face. promising to stay the night with you in his arms to keep you safe and comforted and just so you weren’t alone. it’s also the moment you shared your first kiss.

what followed consisted of a few things. you celebrated your three months together before leaving education to finally turn into your own independent people with individual plans and paths they want to take. in other words: growing up. becoming an adult. and hence, you split. it was hard, at first. eric became your rock, as did you, become his. you never left each other’s sides and maybe that was why it was so hard for the long distance to work. you were both affectionate, both two loving and caring soles that just needed that physical touch, facetime can only go so far.

the door chimed, indicating someone had come through the door, “hi, welcome to moonlight’s diner what can i get for you?” you cringed at your superficial tone of voice as you casted a smile to the new customers, one of which left to find the pair a table. what a cute couple.

the woman was pretty, the way the sun shone through the open glass windows as she peered behind you at the menus, “hi, can i get two hot chocolates and chocolate chip muffins please?” she gleamed, fiddling with the cash notes she held in her hands as she looked at you expectedly.

“of course,” imputing the order into the cash register, excusing yourself as you went to prepare her order as she left to accompany her friend.

you were quite used to the machines at the diner, considering you had worked there long enough to learn everything like the back of your hand, so it only took you a couple of minutes before making your way to the table, placing each saucer and plate in front of the two, concentrating too much to notice the eyes watching your every moment.

“here’s your order and the bill, enjoy.” pushing the tray between the fold of your arm as you slid them the bill, only just having the chance to spot the man sat opposite the woman you served at the counter.

“oh hey y/n.” eric spoke, flashing his pearly whites as he began to stir his hot chocolate, “i haven’t seen you in… years. it’s nice to see you again.” the girl now staring at you instead, curious as to how eric knew you.

turning on your heel, wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as you could, you were just about to leave but god had other plans for you, “hey, i’m hanna, eric’s girlfriend. nice to me you.. y/n.”

you didn’t see eric for weeks after the encounter with his girlfriend. nothing much happened after that, your manager had called for you from the back room to tell you it was the end of your shift and how you could go home. not even sparing eric or his girlfriend a second glance or word, you gripped the tray tighter and scurried out the door, not caring to even say much as a goodbye or see you tomorrow.

“so that’s y/n, huh? is that why you brought me here?” eric had been watching you leave, you looked different from the last time he saw you. god, he couldn’t imagine you being any prettier but there you were; proving him wrong. proving to him that he never actually stopped loving you. all those nights he would stay awake silently hoping you would surprise him at his dorm and you never leave his side again, “was a surprise for the both of us it seems.”

he met hanna through a mutual friend from his baseball team. they weren’t really that close, only a few civil greetings shared between the two but when he stopped eric in his tracks on the way out of the changing room, pleading him to go on a date with his love-struck friend, there wasn’t much to lose. he was lonely and she reminded him of himself; bubbly, energetic, and hence, they started dating, seeing one another more often. something he wasn’t able to do with you. he told hanna all about you. the girl he was once head over heels with, quite frankly, she knows everything about you. as do his group of friends.

except, the difference is, they met hanna and hardly know anything of her. but you, someone they have yet to meet, hell, they know everything from how you can’t eat dairy due to your intolerance to how when you were a child, you got bit by a donkey and still have the scar on your wrist. it wasn’t pleasant, comparing the both of you. you both have different traits, different personalities, different styles, you were polar opposites. and maybe that’s why things weren’t working well between eric and hanna and why he still loves you. you match him like a missing puzzle piece. hanna knew it too, but she was too blind sighted by the four letter word called love, that she didn’t want to lose eric. maybe it was out of nerves or worries, not knowing what the future had planned for her: would she ever get married? have kids? would she even meet another boy if she broke up with eric? she was being selfish really, but she couldn’t help it… especially when she saw the sparkle in his eye and the fond, lingering smile on his face by just the slight glimpse of your shadow.

it seemed like someone in the clouds above were playing some kind of god, putting scattered pieces together. almost like a person putting a broken jigsaw puzzle back together, nothing happening too fast, but also too noticeable for it to be just a coincidence.

life was hard, to say the least. some days better than others, some appearing as though it’ll never end and whilst some, you wished would stay around forever. but that’s how it goes, time still ticks on and moves through the waves of reality and if you just happen to stumble and trip, there’s the risk of never being fully able to catch up. time. something that is very limited, something people take for granted, that some people have too little of and others struggling to stay just one foot in front of; the fear of falling behind being all too real.

“penny for your thoughts?”

he spoke, breaking the tranquility that filled the empty playground.

“how funny, sohn.”

“so tell me,” he softly murmured, turning on his side to look directly at your side profile, “what brings you here? this is where we always went during school on our breaks.”

you nod, “i know. it brings peace, you know? i like it here.”

to which the male simply nodded.

“and you? shouldn’t i be asking you the same thing?”

“me and hanna broke up. came here to clear my head.”

“oh.”

abruptly, eric stood up, his hand outstretched towards you as he dragged you to your feet, “c’mon, we’re going to get ice cream from that place around the corner.”

and with that glimmering smile, you couldn’t refuse.

“and that, is how sunwoo managed to get stuck inside of our dorms dustbin.”

“so, you’re telling me, at half three in the morning, sunwoo climbed into a tiny ass desk bin as he wanted to prove to you that he could get from one side to the other in thirty seconds or less?” letting out a cackle, your head thrown back as your hand covered the ice cream in your mouth.

sighing, “i miss how things used to be.” putting your spoon into the ice cream tub, resting your chin in your palms as you stared at the scenery occurring outside of the parlour, “i feel the same.” eric replied, huffing a little whilst his lips protruded into a pout as he copied your form, looking at you.

“want to restart?”

“restart?”

“yeah- why not? i’m not saying forget about what’s happened, just, i miss you.”

popping the spoon back into your mouth, a small smile forming on your face, “me too.”

eric was true to his word, every chance your schedules allowed, were you spending time with one another. like nothing had ever changed, and that you were still in school.

but there you were, sprawled across eric’s bed in his small - one man - apartment. both of you laid beside one another on your backs whilst observing the coloured star projector he had pointing to his ceiling.

“hey y/n?” eric whispered, closer to your ear than you expected, the tip of his nose rubbing against the shell of your ear slightly.

copying him, your noses now skimming each other but neither of you daring to move, “yeah?” you whispered back. unknown as to why you were whispering, possibly not wanting to burst the bubble the two of you were entranced in.

“do you miss us?”

smiling slightly before it dropped, recalling all the memories from your younger years, when you lost the love of your life, your best friend, the person who was always there in your time of need. just like you were to him, “i never stopped.”

never did your feelings for eric disappear, some might say you were meant to be together; soulmates your friends and family would say.

in which, probably explains why you were here to begin with, the same place, the same position, the same old

ceiling with the star projector. except, this time you were saying goodbye.

goodbye to eric’s one-man apartment, your life together with your identical rings located on your ring fingers as tiny hands held each of your empty hands. leaving heartbreak in the past, and focusing on loving one another for eternity whilst bringing up your two children that came after three years of marriage.

maybe it was always meant to be this way. maybe you’re meant to go through hard times to be stronger for the person you were always meant to be.

the puzzle was complete, and your happy family decorated the pieces. memories were memories for a reason. what was important was to live in the present, to stop daydreaming of the past, things that could’ve been better, regrets, mistakes- all made and done, but accepting you for you. and being complacent with that.

maybe you’d be stuck inside a daydream for the rest of your life, especially during the tough times. or just maybe, life itself is your daydream.

a knock on the door was what brought you out of your trance, and there you were - seated, cross-legged, on your roommates bed when her suited up boyfriend waltzed in with a familiar man trailing behind him.

eric sohn, the infamous, and handsome, baseball player on campus. the same boy of whom you’ve harboured a crush on for as long as you could remember and-

oh my god?! is he walking up to you?! okay y/n, stay calm!

“hi. i’m eric sohn.”

and that’s where the cassette stops.

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modern-inheritance · 3 years

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What are some headcanons/MIC Canon things about Arya as a kid?

Soooo many! Unfortunately my brain isn't cooperating now (or for the weeks since you asked this, sorry for the delay Books!!) but I've put in the ones that stick out the most. I'll definitely revisit this and add more via reblogs as time goes on!!

Young Modern Inheritance!Arya

Arya frequently climbed out of windows and into the trees instead of leaving via doors. It drove Islanzadí crazy, since if there was an argument between them and she was distracted in any way for a millisecond Arya would scamper out the window with a parting shot and wouldn’t be back for hours.

Glaedr frequently compared Arya to (and called her) a wild hatchling. Oromis and others who had contact with dragon hatchlings tended to agree with that comparison.

Arya played with Faolin a lot, forming a strong friendship with him well before she left for the Varden. He was around 4-5 years older than her and lived in one of the smaller villages not far from Ellesméra’s outskirts. While not quite as much of a wild child as Arya, they both were rambunctious and got into all sorts of adventures and trouble together when they weren’t occupied with lessons. They tended to spend nights outside just to keep playing in the morning.

Young Arya hated brussel sprouts. Like it was a physical fight for islanzadi to get her to eat them. But if Oromis made them, she’d eat them. Neither Arya nor Islanzadi know why his tasted better.

It’s hit on in The Promise, but smol Arya seemed to have two different almost personas. The first is when she’s with her mother out in public: Quiet, wide eyed and drinking in everything around her, always trailing a respectful step or two behind. Paolini mentions in his (I think) Post-Brisingr audiobook interview that one of the reasons Arya is so quiet at times is because her mother would speak for her when she was younger, overruling or speaking over her (I think he was saying Islanzadí was extroverted while Arya was just naturally more introverted). Islanzadí in MIC does the same, but Arya balances this by approaching people directly when her mother isn’t around to speak her mind, set the record straight, and started doing this from a very young age. When able to be herself, young Arya was a wild child, asking questions, climbing all over everything, making things.

Arya was taught primarily by Oromis and Glaedr in general education as well as swordplay, but much of her swordplay was taught by Brom and she developed her own initial style by mixing theirs while practicing on her own. Her firearms training was more taught by Brom and a few other elves.

Rhunön learned pretty quick that she couldn’t chase Arya out of the forge. She mostly let Arya watch as she worked, occasionally letting her help with refueling the forge, making charcoal, and other small tasks before teaching the kid how to do basic repairs on equipment. As a side note, Rhunön was the one who helped develop Arya and Elf Squad’s spidersilk jackets. In Arya’s case she also implemented the remains of a very battered armored leather jacket that someone in the Varden had gifted her. Rhunön has a soft spot for Arya, but she’s not ever going to admit it. Arya learned a LOT of mechanical and engineering stuff from Rhunön as a kid, leading to her future successes in sabotaging Broddring artillery and helping build artillery for the Varden and helping to maintain some of the remaining dwarvish tanks that the Varden had at their disposal.

It’s not solid yet, and not exactly young Arya, but there is some sort of relationship between Islanzadí’s side of the family and one of the Forsworn. I’m not trying to be cliché! Lords-of-the-Empire had a good idea for it and it’s been in the works a long time to iron out the cliché bits. No promises on when or if that will ever be out.

As mentioned in The Promise, Arya constantly followed Brom around when he would come back to Ellesméra. Asking him stuff about the war both current and past, examining his gear, getting stuff like books and materials from him from the outside world, and as she got older they would spend hours talking out the most recent issues mechanical and political that were plaguing the Varden.

Arya’s skill with teleportation spells started young. Young elves and elflings are very strongly connected to magic, their emotions and states of mind occasionally bleeding out through subconscious spells (Again seen in The Promise). Arya’s first (accidental) use of the spell nearly killed her, and to prevent such an accident from happening again Oromis taught her the theory behind it and the words so that it would be less likely to slip. Despite her age Arya understood it and, after years of carefully supervised practice, became a master at pinpoint teleportation. Which is why she’s so miffed about ‘messing up’ when Saphira’s egg appeared to Eragon, and relieved when it was later shown to be meddling that caused the massive deviation.

Glaedr occasionally ‘babysat’ for a toddler/young Arya. It reminded him of watching over the hatchlings during the Rider years, especially with the girl’s wild streak.

Thanks for the ask as always, Books!! :D Always appreciate your support and questions!! I'll definitely keep adding to this as time goes on, so keep an eye out!

#Modern Inheritance #inheritance cycle #eragon #the cyclists #Ket's Modern Inheritance Cycle #arya #arya drottningu #young arya #oromis #glaedr #islanzadi #queen islanzadi #modern inheritance lore #modern inheritance ask #modern inheritance asks #Books

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imbellarosa · 4 years

Text

Let’s Talk Calm-ly about Two Loves

OR: When you’re a grown man who writes stories for a living, you definitely wrote your own weird bedtime story, too.

The TLDR here is that H has taken one specific listener around the globe, notably to Tokyo and Jamaica. He quotes an old Victorian Poet who was an awful human but who’s lasting legacy is the phrase “a love that dare not speak its name” which is - you guessed it - a reference to queer love. He also is super excited to spend what seems like the foreseeable future with this listener and has bought a little house with a garden of daisies with them and it’s very sweet and domestic. Anyways this is a wild time and it’s all under a cut because it’s...really a lot.

Anyways I think the people I owe thank yous this times around to are @queenlokibeth who had to listen to me scream about this for a while, Astrid, who screamed with me when this came out, and “M” who convinced me to finally get to work in this fandom. And, of course, all of the lovely people tagged below who’s work I used to build my argument.

1.) Who Wrote “Dream With Me”?

Well, not H, or so the story goes. Two other people (Steve Cleverly and Sanj Sen) did! I mean, right, okay, for a while I was like...that seems like an odd choice for a man who didn’t want to hand Two Ghosts over to his own band because it seemed too personal. He wrote on every song in both albums’ he’s released thus far, because he seems to be passionate about telling the stories he wants to tell (even if he won’t tell you explicitly what they’re about). But for a while, I was totally going with the flow there, and the rest of this analysis would still stand: the writer of this story definitely referenced a poem by Lord Alfred Douglas and Harry’s own songs.

However, I then read this fun quote from the Co-founder and CEO of Calm:

“Well,” he said, “The the Harry Styles one is interesting because that came purely from Harry Styles himself...we took the approach of creating a sort of musical epic poem – he doesn’t sing, it’s spoken with poetry, but there’s a sort of musical sound bed to it and it’s pulling on things and themes that Harry’s fans really adore about him and associate with him. So his story was driven really by him – we really created a concept around him.”

- Chris Advansun, July 7th, 2020 via @hlupdate

And I thought, hmmm. This does not sound like a project that he was not involved in creating. From this point on (July, 7th 2020), I began to think of it as a three way co-collaboration between him and the other two authors. But this confused me a bit, because there was largely a nonreaction from the fandom. I was waiting for an actual transcript, because I always fall asleep to these meditation stories, but it was being referenced to as some sort of Y/N fic, which was...honestly not what I expected, but also not implausible, thanks to the ~lovely~ image this man has had since the age of sixteen. But also, twitter seemed to be concerned by other things at the moment, and no one was analyzing the story. .

In fact, I messaged a friend the day that this story dropped, because it had been kind of a shit show day on Twitter. Rumors were sort of flying about everyone and everything: had Liam shaved his head? Was he engaged? Had he and Maya broken up? Were Zayn and Gigi engaged? Had they broken up? Did Niall have a girlfriend? (this one was true lol). Were Elounor engaged? Were they pregnant? Had they broken up??? My personal fav was the bald Liam rumor, which he promptly put to rest in LP Act 1 by...having a huge mane of hair.

So then I thought - huh. Why has today looked like this? I’m not saying that there aren’t days that twitter goes wild because of boredom, because there definitely is - the articles about secret meetings in Italy that are coming out this week (8/12/2020) are proof positive. So that definitely does happen, but it doesn’t usually happen on the days that there’s a lot of content. And maybe I’ve just been starved for content in this fandom, but I would consider a 40 minute video quite a bit of content.

Then the transcript dropped. I’m using two as references - this one on Wattpad and also @carl-and-pearl ‘s version here (thank you so much for the transcript!!). We’re going to get into a more detailed description of what’s going on in the story, but the first thing I recognized immediately is that it was first person POV. I knew that going in, based on the number of Y/N jokes going around on twitter. Then I read it aloud, and I realized that it read like a letter. Like an experience specific to the writer and the reader. And while that’s not super uncommon to write about an experience from the author’s POV - I listen to a podcast called Nothing Much Happens: bedtime stories for adults which has a similar concept - I thought it was odd that they were trying to include both the author and the listener. I completely understood why the y/n jokes were pertinent. But at the same time, it felt like something had snagged in my mind - like a particularly annoying splinter.

The conversations I was having around this story - completely based on the content, concept, and my own instinct - was that this story contained specific references to one person. I thought that it did read like a love letter, and that most identifying features would have been taken out, but the essence remained. Which, once I thought about it, was something that H excelled at doing. Think about Sunflower Vol 6 and Adore You and Canyon Moon and even Watermelon Sugar and Golden. Ask yourself, What do I know about the person they are about? They have skin that browns, they have a secret, they have mesmerizing eyes, they’re willing to dance in the kitchen with him (to dancehall), they have a belly, they’ve been through hard times, they’re witty, they have an accent, and they have lips. I know - super specific right?

So the splinter grew into a thorn - what was I missing? And then - when I was looking for something completely different - I stumbled upon this old interview Harry did with Zach Sang and the Gang Show back in 2017. For context, he was being asked about Sweet Creature. As you can imagine, it’s hard for people to believe he wrote such a beautiful love song when he hadn’t ever really had a long term relationship (two hearts in one home?? Who did you move in with, you can imagine them asking. When did you have time?). So what did he have to say about this?

"In my opinion,” he explained, “I think most songs are written for one listener. Maybe there's one thing in there that only they'll notice about them.... It's so much easier to say something in a song than it is to say it to someone and I think it's really amazing to be able to communicate through that and be able to wrap up everything that you want to say in three and a half minutes and say it in a song."

- HS, May 3 2017

By this time, please believe that I was screeching. Seeing this felt like he put into words the exact feeling I had about “Dream With Me”. It felt like a nod to someone that I didn’t know, which made the story hard to listen to, tbh. Although, I will say that when I did finally listen to it, it knocked me out and gave me odd dreams so. Once was enough for me haha!

So my new operating theory is exactly what Advansun said: I think that H was the primary writer/the driving force behind the story. Because of the references I’m about to run through, because it feels like the way he tells stories, and because they admitted to him being more involved than they originally claimed. That’s going to be how I write the rest of the analysis - under the impression that H had a direct hand in the story that was being put forth. However, I think that the analysis itself would stand whether or not he wrote any of it. It would just be a more tenuous reflection of him than I believe it to be.

2.) How Do I Love Thee? In Two Ways.

Before I jump into the story, let’s talk a little about the poem that I want to compare it to: Two Loves, by Lord Alfred Douglas. Let’s be clear this is not at all a defense of who Bosie was - he was a terrible person, particularly in his later years, when he’d converted to Catholicism and turned his back on his younger self, and his partner, Oscar Wilde. He was violently anti-Semitic, and turned his back on his own community. I want to get this out of the way because I very much believe that we should examine artists for who they are. That is, after all, what I am trying to do here.

But his poem Two Loves has often been used - much to his disappointment, I’m sure - as an exploration of queer love in Victorian times. A line that I will be exploring more deeply in a second was in fact used against Oscar Wilde in his trail for indecency . He attempted - unsuccessfully - to explain it away, but it was too blatantly about their relationship for even the British Victorian society to ignore. I really, really recommend a read of this poem, because it is - despite it’s author - a good piece of work, which explores the themes of shame and love and longing between two men in that time.

I’m going to start with my own background, as someone who’s analyzed fandoms before. I first came across this poem in the Sherlock fandom, with this analysis by @the-7-percent-solution, when I was running in that fandom, and she explains the poem brilliantly in just a few lines. I’m going to take a little longer to run through it, but if you want a concise explanation and a brilliant meta, I encourage you to run to their blog and check it out. That fandom taught me most everything I know about catching symbols and recurring themes and “clueing for looks” and I love it desperately, still.

But we’re here to talk about this fandom, so on with the poem! Essentially, the poem outlines a dream the speaker had: In his dream, he’s standing in a field with flowers - beautiful ones of all kind - and he meets this young man with clear blue eyes and bright red lips and they kiss a bit and have a picnic, and it’s all lovely. If you think I’m kidding, I’m really not. Please, read it for yourself.

Anyways, after they did they did the whole picnic thing, the speaker and his date go on a walk in this field, where they come across two figures. The first is described as,

“...fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids And joyous love of comely girl and boy, His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy; And in his hand he held an ivory lute With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair, And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute, And round his neck three chains of roses were.”

- Two Loves, 1894

The speaker, however, was drawn to the second figure:

“He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight, And yet again unclenched, and his head Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death. A purple robe he wore, o'erwrought in gold With the device of a great snake, whose breath Was fiery flame..”

- Two Loves, 1984

Of course, the speaker immediately asks the second man who he is. The second man says, “My name is Love”. The first man corrects him quickly:

“ He lieth, for his name is Shame, But I am Love, and I was wont to be Alone in this fair garden, till he came Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.”

-Two Loves, 1984

The second man sighs and acquiesces, “Have thy will. I am the love that dare not speak its name.”

It was, of course, this last line that really gave the meaning of the poem away. It was the line that was put to Oscar Wilde as proof of a romantic relationship, it was the line that went down in history as a way to refer to queer love, and it was the line that first stuck out to me when I was reading “Dream With Me”.

The reading here is clearly that “Love” is the love that is acceptable to society - easy, sweet, and cherished. “Shame” is the love that happens in secret - beautiful, alluring to the speaker, passionate, anxious ( as can be seen in the clenching and unclenching of his hands), and proud. He refuses to call himself as anything but what he is. The first man may call him Shame, but he refuses the name, and instead, offers a qualifier to his own descriptor. He is still love, he is just the love that can’t be spoken about.

3.) Walking in Golden Fields of Sunflowers

Now let’s talk about “Dream With Me”. I’m ignoring the first few stanzas (from the line “Have you ever wondered” to “What the two of us can find”.) because those are pretty standard introductory paragraphs to a guided meditation. So we start with the line “Let’s travel now to moonlit valleys...”.

I’m going to do the same thing I did with “Two Loves” first. I am going to describe literally, in general terms, what happens in the story. Warning, I change pronouns from “they” to “you” because the whole thing confuses me, but note that I’m always talking about the speaker and the listener:

So after doing the standard intro, the speaker and the listener take a walk through the woods enjoying nature, particularly the grass, the trees, and the blue sky above. You’re already clearly in love. Then you’re magically on a raft, with cherry blossoms all around you. If you want a good visual for that, here’s a site that has pictures from a boat rental in Tokyo where you can snuggle on a raft in the Chidorigafuchi moat. And then suddenly it starts raining, and they (you) watch the rain for a hot second, and then the scene magically shifts again, and you’re under a porch (although I guess it could be the boat rental’s porch. They do usually have covered areas).

Kind of furthering that theory, they then lounge by the shoreline, skipping stones and hanging out, looking at the snow capped mountains. In case you’re curious, because at this point I sure was, you can see mountains from certain areas in the city of Tokyo.

Anyways, then it’s snowing, and you’re magically in a cabin, just chilling by the fire, and you fall asleep again. You wake up somewhere else.

Where are you now? Well, you’re on a tropical island filled with palm trees. As an American, my mind immediately jumps to the Caribbean, but I suppose it could absolutely be in the Mediterranean as well. The island has white beaches, mangroves, a turquoise ocean, and a gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere.

If you’re curious as to what a mangrove looks like - and I certainly was - they are a group of trees and shrubs that live in the coastal intertidal zone and Jamaica is doing a massive restoration project involving primary school children to regrow this vital part of their ecosystem. More interestingly, there currently exist no mangrove forests in the Mediterranean, so my initial feeling that this scene would take place in the Caribbean was correct. On that note - again, because I was curious - Jamaica has gorgeous white sand beaches with turquoise oceans.

But I’ve gone off topic again! After you’re minds are “in tune” once more (trying to find a heartbeat, anyone?), you reappear in a meadow, with beautiful flowers of all kind, where you are now walking hand in hand through a field of sunflowers, which give the feeling a “warm and golden hue”. Then you come across a little farmhouse with daisies poking out (clearly I have no way of locating this anywhere in the world, but I assume that the UK has both sunflowers and daisies). It’s an empty house which was loved and left because of the passage of time, which inspires my favorite line in the poem: “ The thought of passing time inspires/A feeling that grows stronger”. It’s just...really sweet to me.

So, of course, they do what anyone would do when they come across an empty farmhouse, they go inside. And there, they begin to fall asleep, reflecting on all they have just seen, referencing other scenes of the poem: “ Moonlit valleys, Burdened forests, Gazing at the ocean. Summer meadows, Tranquil sunsets steeped in emotion”.

The next few stanzas are just going to be copy-pasted, and then I’ll go into them a bit, but this is the end of the poem, so they’re the final reflections;

“The tenderness we feel When we are close Two minds as one Surrounds us and connects us But we’ve only just begun.

For now we dream together Of all there is to follow. And know that sleep will keep us safe From now until tomorrow.

Maybe all the memories That we’ve gathered here tonight Are all dreams now remembered Or wishes in plain sight.

No matter what They’re with us now. For this night and forever. And every time we close our eyes They’re yours and mine to treasure.”

- HS, Dream With Me, via @carl-and-pearl

And that’s it! The literal story, in short, is that you started in a forest, then went to Tokyo (maybe) and then Jamaica (perhaps) and then back to a field of sunflowers and daisies in the UK (which is also a guess, it could be Italy or France or Idaho for all I know, but let’s call it an educated guess).

4.) My Dream Journal

So now that we know what happens in the story, how do we interpret this? Well, There are a few lines in the poem that I want to draw your attention to: the first takes place in the first part of this story, when you’re still in the forest. This is, I must say, the most direct reference to Two Loves in the whole poem/song/story. Both works are describing a walk in the woods with your loved one, and, in a fun reference in the middle of the story, Dream With Me says

The shimmering reflection Shows us smiling from above. But what we think But dare not speak is L-O-V-E love.

-Dream With Me, 2020

Remember that line I mentioned before? I am the love that dare not speak its name. Right, so that’s almost a direct quote. It also has a really fun nod to “I Would” (Would he say he’s in L-O-V-E?/Well if it was me then I would), but I digress.

This first part of the narrative, I feel, really sets up what the rest of it will look and feel like, in the same way that “Golden” sets the tone for Fine Line. (You didn’t think I was going to make a post about Harry and NOT mention Golden, did you?? If you did, I’m disappointed!!). So let’s take a look at what’s happening, and the language he’s using to describe it.

One of the best things about this poem is how vivid it feels. Of course, I’m about to argue that it’s vivid because it was based in reality, but let’s talk about the sheer amount of detail he uses to describe the place he’s walking through. The valley (canyon lmao) is moonlit, the grass and the leaves make mosaics of green, you’re walking by the heather (the symbolism of heather is good luck, admiration, and protection), the sepia sunlight breaks through the trees.

You know what it kind of sounds like? Sweet Creature. You’re about to roll your eyes at me! I can feel it! But listen, okay?

“Sweet creature Running through the garden Oh, where nothing bothered us But we're still young I always think about you and how we don't speak enough”

Which, to be honest, sounds like what they’re doing. They’re walking through the garden in the sun, not daring to speak about the Love that he (they both) feel, and instead refering to it in veiled Victorian terms.

And then we head to Tokyo! I know that you’re about to ask me why I think it’s Tokyo versus...idk, anywhere else? Well, for one, he went to Tokyo (to let it go) publicly in 2019. He was there for a few months, and there are some great pictures of that time:

Look! Here he is with his club owner friend and his dog, and a fun red bandanna! But let’s be honest, the dog really steals the show here. But wait! there’s more! More dog content, too!

This was on Jan 31st, 2019, and he’s taking the dog for a walk! Very cute! If nothing else, he spent a lot of time with dogs in Tokyo! And the city fits the description of the story. So I feel rather comfortable with my interpretation that this first date is a memory of this trip - or another - to Tokyo.

So what did “you both”do in Tokyo? Well, chill on a raft while the cherry blossoms flutter around you, clearly. You also refocused your purpose. What did he do in Tokyo in 2019? Well, he took time to think about and write songs for the album he was about to go record. Kind of like refocusing on what’s next, right? And then, in the story when “you both” had time to think amongst the lake and the water and the rain and the moon, and you’d come to the conclusions you needed to, you left. What did he do when he did the things he needed to? Well, he left, too.

And where did he go? Well, in real life, I suppose he went to do his job. But, in the story, you’re meant to be falling deeper and deeper into sleep, so it’s sort of like traveling backwards, you see? Like counting down to one. So you end up on this island with turquoise ocean and mangrove forests. I’m calling this Jamaica. Why? Well, the description fits, for one, down to the four types of mangroves that exists within its ecosystem.

And - probably the biggest reason - I can place him there, too. Here’s him in 2017:

I added this picture because the water around him....looks rather turquoise, doesn’t it? Kind of like he’s enjoying his time on a tropical island by the beach?? Oh, and here’s another one!:

The red bandanna makes a comeback!

So what are you doing in Jamaica, according to the story? Well, you’re hanging out, basically. Enjoying the beach and each other, of course! What else? To be exact, “[Your] thoughts dovetail and unify/ In tune two minds together”. I’m so glad that you’re tuned like an old guitar now! Congrats! Really happy for you!

What was he doing in Jamaica three years ago? Why, he was recording his first album, or so the story goes. I’ll tell you something: finding press for that album was literally the most difficult part of this whole analysis. I got a fair bit of the tattoo roulette with Kendall Jenner, and some things about Carolina, but the interview with Zach Sang took me like an hour and a half to find again to link. The fact that a lot of it has been buried is...not great, for posterity purposes. He’s going to want that one day.

But I’ve gotten off track again! We gotta go back and finish our story, right? What happens now? Well, this does:

hahahaha okay, I’m really sorry, but I had to. I’m not, actually, making it up though! According to the story:

“ As minutes turn to hours We drift off somewhere new. And visualize a stairway To a door we now walk through”

- Dream With Me, 2020

So maybe Louis was just...demonstrating for you.

Anyways! Where do you walk out to? A golden field full of sunflowers. You walk for a minute, then come across an old house with daisies popping up out of the garden. And that’s where the story ends. I guess you’ve made that farmhouse feel like home.

Now to the little reflection he does on the outro. The lines I want to bring your attention are: “The tenderness we feel when we are close two minds as one surrounds us and connects us but we’ve only just begun” and “Maybe all the memories that we’ve gathered here tonight are all dreams now remembered or wishes in plain sight.”

Let’s talk about the first sentence first. In the context of finding a home that could be a shared home, and a future, this is very much an “end of the story, beginning of our lives” sort of thing. You’re back from all over, and it’s time to settle down, and see what’s next.

And now the second sentence. I think this is the one that really drives my point about this story being a collection of memories he has - that’s what he calls it. The story is “gathered memories” that might also be called “remembered dreams” (think of how people say of vacations, “oh it was a dream!”) or you might call it “wishes in plain sight”. This feels in line with the rest of the story. In this stanza, he’s sort of letting you in a bit. If I’ve read this right - and I really think that I have - he’s giving the larger context for the story. It’s a collection of memories he’s had with someone he loves.

5.) Cool! Can you prove it?

I mean, I’d argue that if you read this far, I have proved it, but let’s make some more links, shall we? This was called a “muscial epic” that was “driven by him”. I’d argue that if I know my Victorian literature (thank you, Sherlock!), then he definitely does. Then there’s the fact that he quoted it, so. That did happen. And he knows what it means. And even if he didn’t, there were two other people on the story. Someone was more than capable of catching that one, and the fact that they didn’t speaks to intent. They want you to think of that phrase when you read this poem. They want you to think of that walk in the woods while you’re going on this one.

And, as for my assumption that this is for and about one person, well. Think about it. He said that he writes his songs for a single listener. I’m not saying it’s the same listener each time, let’s get that right, but it is always just for one person. With that, and with the assumption that he’s been involved in the writing of this story, I’d say that the same rule applies. He went with someone to Japan and Jamaica (J^2 haha). And, if I had to guess, it was the same person.

Why, you ask? Well, for one, if that weren’t the case, then this poem would no longer be for one listener, it would be for multiple. And, for another, imagine how awkward it would be to listen to it with his current partner and have to explain “oh, yeah that was the super romantic vacation I took with someone else” . And, I suppose that because I think that attitude of “refocusing” and “dovetailing” and “tuning” and getting excited about imagining all of the tomorrows with your partner speaks to a long term relationship breathing easily, you know?

I’m also going to argue that describing the aura around the house as “golden” was intentional, especially when paired with the location - in the middle of a field of sunflowers. Those are both direct references to his songs. And those two songs are particularly linked by the number 28. The third song that features 28 is Fine Line the song, but that’s a different story. Anywho! “Golden”’s bridge just repeats the word ‘golden’ twenty eight times (if you go here , you can count the bridge) and “Sunflower Vol. 6″ ends the song with 28 “boops” (believe me, I wish I was making this up. I’m not.). So then, once again, you’ve linked a story to two already linked songs.

And, even if you don’t buy the intentional repetition, they’re linked another way, aren’t they? The color scheme and the sun symbol. Sunflowers were named because of their sun-like appearance. They turn to face it. They symbolize loyalty and adoration. And then, of course, the sun is - say it with me - golden. And it - like the person in golden - waits in the sky, beautiful and dangerous and constant. And here that symbol is, in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. At home.

This whole story feels like you’re taking the time to find that heartbeat that you think you might have lost, and sort of coming back to a space where you understand that this is what you want, now and forever. It feels like finding a home that could be yours forever, and it feels like walking through some of the moments that remind him of that.

It really is rather lovely, if you think about it, especially since he has a tendency to attribute “home” to people rather than place, in his songs. So it’s like. Going all around the world and always being at home.

#harry styles #calm #dream with me #two loves #honestly man #im happy for you #but ewww #be less sappy please #i mean #SOME OF US DONT HAVE THAT YET HAROLD #hahahaha i think im funny #long post ts #idk how else to tag this but im really proud of it #okay now i'll do the penguin song #promise hahaha

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lokislittlesigyn · 3 years

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// loki spoilers

This is basically a huge infodump on my thoughts about the first episode, because I doubt y’all want to sift through my trauma-ridden ramblings. I’ll make another post for the rest. This is just everything not related to the IW stuff/my reaction to that. It’s general thoughts, theories, musings.

1. When Loki gets first taken into the TVA. Is that Peggy Carter in the background? Others have suggested it might be. What would that mean??? Will we see the TVA fix the mess the Russos made with Steve/Peggy (not likely) or is it just a lookalike? Who knows..

2. A skrull at the main intake desk! Idk not super relevant just interesting!

3. I’m kind of glad they changed the... uncomfortable scene... with the robot burning his clothes off. He gets more time to react to seeing the machine itself, and he seems more shocked (”Now.. H-hang on just a minute.”) than angry (”Now hang on just a minute!”) i still feel.. horrible for him, i’m glad nobody Saw him and that the machine didn’t grab the clothes off, but still. Ehhh.. uncomfortable.

He is beautiful though, don’t get me wrong - I’d just prefer a shirtless Loki scene where he wants to be shirtless? let him do what he wants with his body?? he’s probably felt so out of control of his body, from being jotun to falling through space that any invasion of privacy like that hits extra deep...

That being said, I recognize the utility of the scene for the narrative - his lack of control, his literally being stripped of what he was before.

4. WHO IS THE MAN WITH THE CAT. What is his name. I love that he has a mug with his cat on it. But I want to know more. Who is he?

4.1 WHY DIDNT YOU LET LOKI PET THE CAT Please,,, I am begging you,,, let loki pet the cat and have something react kindly to him and purr all happily at his scratching behind their ears plea s e

5. The info sheet. Now this is just a little nitpicky tidbit, but in a previous promo they listed Loki’s height as 6′4 ft and weight as 525 lbs. This is taken directly from the comics if I’m not mistaken. However, in the actual show he’s listed as 6′2 (Tom’s height and Loki’s presumed height) but I don’t remember if his weight is the same. Is Loki 6′2? 6′4? please let me know i want to know how smol i am in comparison

6. His little aggressive shaking of the ticket at the guard makes me giggle each time.

7. The fact the turnstile hits so low on him reminds me,, I am short compared to him. Those things hit my stomach/waist. That one hit his legs. I am once again asking Loki to pick me up.

8. The cartoon with Miss Minutes introducing the TVA is wonderful, I love the art style especially. But it raises questions about Variants... I guess Variants can just, pop out of nowhere? Any action could be the wrong one? And then once you commit the wrong action you either get returned or pruned? Yikes??? And THIS ties into another thing later!

9. The trial scene. I have a hunch - a feeling, a suspicion. That one of three things may be true.

A. The Time-Keepers never actually existed. They’re fabricated, and now whoever runs the TVA is actually using the excuse of “The Time-Keepers decree it so!!!” to carry out whatever They think is right. The fact we haven’t seen the Time-Keepers makes me.. suspicious...

B. The Time-Keepers existed, but they have since passed on, however that may have happened. Now someone is doing the same as above, using the excuse of the Time-Keepers apparent dictations to run things.

C. The Time-Keepers do exist, and do run the timeline/TVA, but maybe they’re not infallible? Maybe the TVA info video is lying or incomplete in some way? Idk I just feel like, something about the TVA and how they run things has to be wrong. It has to? Something is off. Again, this will tie into another thought later...

I have no idea if any of these are actually true! But Loki’s questions of “Who’s in charge here? What do they do? What do you do?” punctuated by laughter leads me to believe he’s suspecting something too, or perhaps just trying to figure this mess out.

10. Seiðr/Magic. We see in this scene, Loki’s magic (”powers”) don’t work in the TVA. (and a quick side note, did he have to Flex like that? do you have to make me see Loki’s bare arms Flex like that? be still my heart. anyway please get that collar off of him and let him rest for five minutes) This makes me wonder.. Why isn’t Loki in his Jotun form? His pale skin and blue eyes are decided by magic, are they not? I suppose this is 2012, so perhaps Odin’s magic is keeping Loki looking like that. But if magic doesn’t work in the TVA, why would his spell reach so far? Clearly Loki’s magic isn’t what’s doing it. How is Loki not appearing as a Jotun? Is his Jotun form repressed - is pale skin his default now, rather than something hidden by magic? I need answers!

11. he sounds so scared about being “reset” please dont hurt him,,

12. cALLING LOKI A PUSSYCAT? (lokitty confirmed) I think Mobius was goading him (Mobius strikes me.. As extremely clever. He’s trying to push Loki’s buttons to see who he’s dealing with. At least, I hope so. Because if he really meant that “You were born to cause pain and suffering and death... All so that others can achieve the best versions of themselves.” and that line about killing Frigga??? No no no he is not guilty. He had no way of knowing what would happen. It wasn’t right to send Algrim up to Asgard (i think algrim wouldve found the way up anyway) but there was no intent to hurt Frigga. I really hope you’re trying to goad him, Mobius, because if you believe that I trust you much less. anyway i digress) but wow is he pushing Loki’s buttons a lot. I can’t... Blame him entirely, I understand he’s trying to make sure Loki’s on his side, maybe I’m just too soft for Loki idk. But some of that was very cruel to say. /:

12.1 AND ANOTHER THING ABOUT MOBIUS. That scene with the girl in the church?? Did that little girl kill the men? Is that young Sylvie? Or is she using an illusion to make herself look young and innocent? What’s going on!!!!

13. LOKI SNATCHING THE LITTLE TIME-TWISTER DEVICE AND STOWING IT IN HIS POCKET.... POCKET....... sorry sometimes i get so caught up about loki that i just say random words in between little noises and squeals,,, i am a silly thing

14. CASEY. CASEY??? That whole exchange is funny. Poor Loki, just trying to intimidate this guy so he can escape but - Casey doesn’t know what a fish is. to be fair.... thor doesn’t seem to know what a raccoon is... right?

15. That bit with the infinity stones is kind of funny until you realize

A. Natasha died for a paperweight

B. Tony died from paperweights

C. Loki was tortured for paperweights

D. Oh, and Gamora died for a paperweight too. And Vision. Need I go on?

Then it becomes less of exclusively “haha funny” and now it’s a mix of funny and pain and gosh, is that a good way to sum up being a Marvel/Loki fan sometimes...

16. Loki gazing at the timeline all “Is this the most powerful thing in the universe?” or something, i’m sorry i don’t remember exactly... made me think of a meme and i shall make it presently.

17. I love that Loki got to see examples of how his family loves him but the fact he’s all “I can’t go back.” really just breaks me. It’s like he can finally see they love him after all of this mess, and now he doesn’t have the chance. Please, please let him be happy. Give him some relief. This is the Loki that just came off finding out about being Jotun, falling from the Bifrost, encountering Thanos, attacking Earth, facing defeat, and now he’s being thrashed around in this wild place and has just found out he inadvertently caused Frigga’s death (he did not kill her: his actions, by mistake, lead to her murder, let me be very clear) AND Odin will die AND all the rest... And he wants to be with them.

18. Loki’s reaction to Thor suggesting the hug makes me soft. Please I want to hug this little mischief man so so so bad-

19. Skipping over the iw parts! That’s for another post because this one will be grossly long anyway.

20. “I don’t enjoy hurting people.” and “It's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear. A desperate play for control.” was all so, so validating. I’ve been trying to argue on Loki’s behalf for almost a solid decade. Seeing the show recognize that Loki’s not all just violence and hurting for “fun”, that he’s not unhinged and bloodthirsty.. Is so nice. It’s just so, so comforting. and it gives me hope for future episodes that they won’t go the route of “oh haha loki bullied and mistreated and stabbed thor for years!!! :)” loki cries during basically every fight with Thor and you want me to believe he stabs Thor for fun? absolutely not.

21. Theory.. Just another hunch.. So we know a fugitive variant, aka Loki, is running amok. Refer back to 8 and 9.C. What if the Time-Keepers never actually fixed the timeline into a single timeline? What if there are other timelines, and these different Loki variants have hopped over to the current one? Or, maybe the Time-Keepers did fix the timeline into a single one, and these Lokis are remnants from that huge time-war at the beginning? Time runs differently in relative spaces, they may have Just Left that war from their perspective!

I say Lokis and not Loki because we’re pretty sure there’s Female/Lady Loki, Old Man/King Loki, and possibly Young/Kid Loki. That’s at least three. From the peeks of Asgard and NYC we’ve seen from the trailers, I think we’re also getting an Asgardian King!Loki and Midgardian King/Vote!Loki. (unless our dearest variant is hopping into timelines and situating into them, but I doubt Mobius would let that happen..?) That’s five.

To further support this, keep in mind, I believe recently six (i think 6 regular and 6 rare...) different funko pops were announced for the series? I’m not sure if they’re in addition to the Loki and Mobius already released. If they are, there’s enough room for each Loki and maybe a TVA agent. One of the pops is supposed to have a buddy/companion I think? Maybe they’re making the cat guy into one, or maybe there’s something else (Throg, anyone?).

22. That is totally Lady Loki/Sylvie at the end by the way. Has to be. But why does she want the reset devices? Why did she snatch that TVA Hunter? Again, WHAT’S GOING ON

ANYWAY this was a very long post if you made it this far, I commend you.

#no proofread only post #long posts about loki #loki #loki series #loki spoilers #sigyn says WORDS #SPOILER HEAVY

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everything-laito · 3 years

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About the theory that maybe Laito doesn't like to be touched as much as he says he does.

This was submitted by @grs-wonder320! I did not edit anything in their response (or the title), I just added paragraph breaks so it's easier to read. I'll put my response below as well!

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I am not the one who asked this question, but I would like to take this opportunity to express my personal opinion on this question. As it turns out, I have a completely different opinion than Corn. That is to say, I believe that there is a good chance that Laito does not like to be touched.

Rationale: I believe that there is a psychology of "excessive pandering to those things that are disgusting or painful to you," and I think that this psychology makes us appear to be happy on the surface, even though we actually dislike them. There are many exceptions to this rule. You may be thinking, "No, no, there are many exceptions to this rule. It is true that this rule does not apply in all situations. It mainly works when he is playing a pervert. So, why does he dare to act perverted in the first place? Most of the time, it's because he wants to be smoked out by the people around him. Why do you want to be smoked? ↓ I don't want to attract them to myself. ↓ Even though he doesn't want to be around other people, he is very sociable (compared to the people around him, that is). So it's hard to imagine why he is annoyed by human relationships like Subaru. ↓ Then there is a good chance that they want to hide something or smoke you out because there is something they don't want you to know. ↓ There is often a pattern of people who want to hide the fact that they are actually perverts, so they pretend to be sane on the surface.

In other words, the Laito that is ostensibly acting as a pervert is _____? Yes, that's what I mean. (What do you mean?) It's almost impossible to play a pervert to hide a pervert, isn't it? Most of the time, people play a false image to hide the opposite nature. In Laito's case, considering what happened in the past, it can be seen as "I'm acting perverted because I want to hide the fact that I'm hurt, and I don't want to be aware that I'm hurt, so I'm acting perverted as a self-suggestion.

There are not many people who can be sincerely friendly to the events that hurt them. In the first place, being "hurt" proves that there was something disgusting about you, so we can conclude that Laito is likely to have an aversion to sexual things. I think this explains the psychology that exists in Laito. Back to the topic at hand, I think it's hard to believe that Laito likes to be touched.

In Corn's answer, he used the example of "Laito trying to get me to touch him", which I think can also be explained by the aforementioned psychology. I, too, have a desire to challenge things I dislike (although this is due to overcoming my weaknesses and seeing things that scare me, and is not the same as Laito's), so I think it is entirely possible for someone to "dare to do something they dislike. Also, there is a high possibility that Laito is not aware of his own aversion to sexual matters, and if that is the case, everything is "true" in his mind, so naturally he would not be aware that he is doing something he dislikes. It could be called an unconscious act of self-harm. In the real world, you can only be aware of it when someone points it out to you, or you break your body by going over the limit. I think Laito has that kind of thing too. (Especially Laito in MB). This concludes the explanation. Thank you very much for reading this far!

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First of all, I'm unsure what you mean by "smoking out," If you could provide clarification on that, that would be great! I think I know what you mean by it, I'm just a lil confused and hope I didn't misinterpret it!

I do agree with you on your psychology on the excessive pandering part! That's exactly what Laito does most of the time, it's what fuels his facade! As for touching, I do think that speculating it could go either way. I do think Laito is touch starved though. Sure people who are touch starved might not want to be touched. I have thought about it since I made that post and honestly, he might want to be touched just like he wants to have genuine love, but he's insecure about it almost.

However, if he was excessively pandering about being touched, he might have done that more often. The only time where he asks Yui to touch him throughout the entire HDB game is only in that supposed mutual masturbation scene, and his heaven scenario. He is known to have a masochistic streak regardless. The other times its Yui either pushing him or slapping him etc. (I'm planning on going over his masochism on a later date)

Laito excessively panders when he says absolutely wild shit that makes others uncomfortable, or gets Yui to be unnerved.

In my previous post, I did say that he could be playing it up! But the fact that he doesn't have Yui touch him until late game does say something. It shows that he's opening up and being more vulnerable. Sure this is HDB Laito and we don't really get much of his facade cracking in that game compared to MB+. Late game HDB Laito is able to let down his guard slightly, since he knows he has Yui wrapped around his finger. The thing is, his excessive pandering to him being a pervert is typically used for manipulation. Your psychology checks out in everything else about him, I do agree with that. But as for touching, that doesn't really "prove" to Yui that Laito's a pervert.

If Laito wanted to utilize touch as a facade of control, he would have done it earlier. Instead, he used other methods to give Yui a false sense of security at times, which he used to break her down further. Could he be doing it in order to show Yui he doesn't have a weakness? He could, but once again when it comes to topics or situations where he doesn't want to be involved with, he acts aloof and avoids it at all costs while changing the conversation. That's my rationale on that. The fact that he has such a different reaction being touched vs his other activities that could be considered as "excessive pandering" is a lil ~sus~ as they say. Or inversely, maybe Laito doen't address the fact that he likes being touched because he might consider genuine thrill as a weakness but maybe he gets desperate. He's desperate for legitimate compassion, the mans needs it.

As for challenging things you dislike, that also checks out in general. However, when it comes to Laito, he likes a sense of control and security. Instructing Yui to touch him gives that sense of control, but also lets him be slightly vulnerable. It's not even that vulnerable because if she does anything that could potentially harm Laito, he would be able to stop it in an instant.

He doesn't like challenging himself, and we all know this. His facade was created so he doesn't have to challenge himself to get over his past trauma. It's to avoid it and not challenge it instead.

I do think that Laito is incredibly self aware and self unaware at the same time. It's a little paradoxical but I feel like he knows he has a facade, but again, he tries to avoid the fact that he does have one and that his facade is true. We do know he's self aware through drama cds and what he says about himself in the games. They're vague, but once you know his character, you know what he's talking about. The fact that he projects onto Yui also says a lot about that.

Also, a little side note as well, in MB he does have consensual sex with Yui. Before that scene happened, he was being extremely vulnerable and a good chunk of his facade broke down. There's a certain tone when you know Laito's being serious and taking down his mask, and that's exactly what he did in that MB scene. Here's a quote from it:

Laito: For some reason, I feel strangely refreshed. Don’t you think that’s weird? I couldn’t get your blood out of my head for the longest time, but it finally calmed down. Right now, it isn’t your blood, but instead I want to hold your warm body close like this… And kiss you…I want to indulge in your body until I’m sick and tired of it. Nfu~

In this scene, Laito was happy crying, which was something he was not familiar with but also hasn't experienced before. It's an involuntary bodily function, yet he was confused by it. This just shows he is genuinely happy, and the fact that he says that he genuinely is admitting to what he wants for once, I don't think it's excessive pandering in this scene, it's him developing. You could argue that he got over his aversion to being touched in this scene. There's a couple asks in my ask box that's related to him and sex, which I will also get to sometimes this week. But that's a different post.

Again I think it could be argued either way, but that's my thought process behind this aside from what I previously said! There's just a lot to think about when it comes to this, and we won't know unless if something is said in canon! But Laito's incredibly complex and there's several factors that explains his behavior.

Hope that makes sense! And once again, thanks so much for submitting! I love hearing people's opinions and their own thoughts that either confirm or challenge my own, so thank you for that! This one definitely got me thinking more. That's the beauty in analysis! Each person takes something different from the text!

And who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind in the future!

#submission #analysis #diabolik lovers analysis #dialovers analysis #dialover analysis #diabolik lovers #dialover #dialovers #laito sakamaki analysis #laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #raito sakamaki #sakamaki raito

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

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Conspiracy fantasy

When we talk about conspiratorialism, we tend to focus (naturally) on the content of the conspiracy. Not only are those stories entertainingly outlandish — they’re also the point of contact between conspiracists and the world.

If your mom is shouting about “Hollywood pedos,” it’s natural that you’ll end up discussing the relationship of this belief to observable reality. But while the content of conspiratorial beliefs gets lots of attention, we tend to neglect the significance of those beliefs.

To the extent that we consider why the beliefs exist and proliferate, the discussion rarely gets further than “irrational people have irrational beliefs.” This is a mistake. The stories we tell one another are a kind of Ouija board, with all our fingertips on the planchette.

The messages it spells out don’t describe external reality but they do reveal our internal, unspoken anxieties and aspirations.This is why we should read science fiction: not because it predicts the future, but because it diagnoses the present.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/26/meaningful-zombies/#oracles

Sf is an ever-mutating ecosystem of fears and hopes, and readers apply selective pressure to those organisms, extinguishing the ones that don’t capture the zeitgeist and elevating the ones that do, a co-evolution of our fantasies and our narratives.

http://locusmag.com/Features/2007/07/cory-doctorow-progressive-apocalypse.html

This is why Alternate Reality Games are so central to their players’ lives. They’re a form of narrative co-creation, with the players throwing out theories and the game-masters actually changing the story to incorporate the best of them.

ARGs are an environment where your coolest and most deliciously scary ideas become reality. It’s a powerful way to galvanize collective action.

As anthropologist Biella Coleman writes in Hacker, Hoaxer, Whistleblower, Spy, it’s the organizing principal behind Anonymous.

Anon Ops begin life as victory announcement videos. If the vision of success captures enough Anons, they execute the op.

https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/the-anonymous-ghost-in-the-machine

In other words, the degree to which a shared fantasy of victory compels its audience predicts whether the audience realizes its fantasy. Long before the alt-right, Anons were memeing ideas into existence (no coincidence, as both were incubated on 4chan).

On the Conspiracy Games and Counter-Games podcast, three left academics — Max Haiven, AT Kingsmith, Aris Komporozos-Athanasiou — analyze “conspiracy fantasies” (as opposed to conspiracies, e.g. the Big Lie behind the Iraq War) for what they reveal about late capitalism’s anxieties.

As leftists, they naturally focus on the relationship between material conditions and people’s behaviors and beliefs. This is an important part of the discourse on conspiratorialism that’s often missing from liberal and right-wing analysis.

Conspiracists aren’t just “irrational” nor are they just “racist.” They may be both of those things, but unless you look at material conditions, then the surges and retreats of conspiracism are mysterious phenomena, strange tides raised by unseen forces.

A decade ago, then-PM David Cameron — the architect of a brutal, authoritarian austerity — dismissed the Hackney Riots as “criminality pure and simple,” and demanded a ban on discussion of the relationship between austerity and unrest.

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/video/2011/aug/09/david-cameron-riots-criminality-video

But without that discussion, there’s no explanation. Even if you believe that “criminality” is a thing that is latent within some or all of us, what explains a rise or fall in that criminality? Is it like pollen that alights upon some of us, turning us bad? Or the full moon?

Likewise the “conspiracists are just racists” or “they’re just deranged.” Without looking at the material world, there’s no explanation for why that racism suddenly became more (or less) important to how conspiracists live their lives.

We can’t talk about conspiratorialism without talking about material considerations, and we have to talk about the form and substance of the conspiratorial belief. The ARG-like structure of Qanon is a hugely important part of its popularity:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/05/behavioral-v-contextual/#adrian-hon

Memeing things into existence in a game-like way is hugely compelling. You can tell when a D&D game is hopping when the players and the DM start co-creating the story, with the DM slyly altering the dungeon and the NPCs to match the players’ super-cool theories.

A recent episode of the CGACG podcast present a mind-blowing analysis of the interplay of the material conditions, mythology and structure of Qanon. It’s a two-part interview with Wu Ming 1:

https://soundcloud.com/reimaginevalue/wuming-one-1?in=reimaginevalue/sets/unmanageablerisks

https://soundcloud.com/reimaginevalue/wuming-one-2?in=reimaginevalue/sets/unmanageablerisks

Wu Ming 1 is part of Bologna’s Wu Ming Collective, the successor to the 1990s Luther Bissett net-art collective. Bissett did many wild, weird things,including publishing “Q,” an internationally bestselling conspiratorial novel in 1999 (!!)

https://www.wumingfoundation.com/giap/what-is-the-wu-ming-foundation/

The plot of “Q” involves a high-level government official, privy to top-secret info about a state conspiracy. It closely mirrors Qanon beliefs, right down to a call for a Jan 6 uprising (!!!!). The major difference is that “Q” is set during the Protestant Reformation.

In the interview, Wu Ming 1 talks about the proliferation of conspiratorial, ARG-like 4chan hoaxes that predated Qanon, and hypothesizes that the original Q posts were plagiarized from the novel.

The strange experience of seeing a novel turn into a cult prompted Ming 1 to write “La Q di Qomplotto” (“The Q in Qonspiracy”), a book that defines and analyzes “conspiracy fantasies.”

https://edizionialegre.it/product/la-q-di-qomplotto/

Ming 1’s interview digs into this in some depth, including setting out criterial for distinguishing conspiracies from fantasies (for example, a conspiracy doesn’t go on forever, while a fantasy can imagine the Knights Templar running the world for centuries).

I was taken by Ming 1’s discussion of the role that “enchantment” plays in conspiratorialism — the feeling of being in a magical and wondrous (if also anxious and terrible) place. He says this is why “debunkers” fail — they’re like people who spoil a magic trick.

Ming 1 and the hosts talk about replacing the enchantment of conspiratorialism with a counter-enchantment, grounded not in the conspiratorialist’s oversimplification and essentialism, but in the wonder of reality.

Ming 1 analogizes his “counter-enchantment” to the “double-wow” method of Penn and Teller: first they blow you away with a trick, and then they blow you away with the cleverness by which it was accomplished.

He describes how the Luther Bissett collective performed a double-wow during Italy’s Satanic Panic, creating a hoax satanic heavy metal cult and a counter-cult, promulgating stories of their pitched battles, then revealing how they’d faked the whole thing.

The action was taken in solidarity with actual Bolognese heavy metal fans who’d been framed for imaginary Satanic “crimes.” Luther Bissett wanted to demonstrate how a panic could be created from nothing, to reveal the method behind the real hoax with a fake hoax.

The double-wow method reminds me of Richard Dawkins’ manuever in “The Magic of Reality,” his excellent children’s book about the virtues of the scientific world, revealing how the numinous wonder of faith is nothing compared to the wonder of science.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Magic_of_Reality

The idea that conspiratorialism is a leading indicator of capitalism’s anxieties is a powerful one, and it ties into other compelling accounts of conspiracy, like Anna Merlan’s REPUBLIC OF LIES, which discusses the importance of trauma to conspiratorial belief.

Like Ming 1, Merlan stresses the kernel of truth underpinning conspiracy fantasies — the real aerospace coverups that make UFO conspiracies plausible, the real pharmaceutical conspiracies to cover up harms from drugs that underpin anti-vax.

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

In the podcast, Ming 1 and the hosts stress the importance of identifying and addressing the kernel of truth and the trauma it produces in any counter-conspiratorial work — that is, a successful counter-enchantment must address the material conditions behind the fantasy.

I really like this approach because of its empathy — its attempt to connect with the conditions that produce behaviors and beliefs, not to be confused with sympathy, which might excuse their toxic and hateful nature.

It reminds me a lot of Oh No Ross and Carrie, whose hosts have spent years joining cults and religions and digging into fringe practices and beliefs in an effort to understand them; they laugh a lot, but never AT their subjects.

https://ohnopodcast.com/

But Ming 1 brings something new to this discussion: an analysis of the role that novels have played in conspiracy fantasy formation: not just the plagiarizing of “Q” to make Qanon, but things like the Protocols of the Elders of Zion plagiarizing Dumas.

The interview also brought to mind Edward Snowden’s recent inaugural blog-post, “Conspiracy: Theory and Practice,” which seeks to separate conspiracy practice (e.g. the NSA spying on everyone) from theories (what Ming 1 calls “fantasies”).

https://edwardsnowden.substack.com/p/conspiracy-pt1

Snowden connects the feeling of powerlessness to the urge to explain the world through conspiracies, relating this to his experience of revealing one of the world’s most far-reaching real conspiracies, and then becoming the subject of innumerable conspiracy fantasies.

Snowden’s perspective is one that has heretofore been missing from conspiracy discourse — the perspective of someone who has been part of a real conspiracy and then the central subject of a constellation of bizarre and widespread conspiratorial beliefs.

These different works, focusing as they do on the character of conspiratorial beliefs, the nature of conspiratorial practice, and material conditions of conspiracists, comprise a richer analysis of our screwed-up discourse than, say, theories about “online radicalization.”

As I wrote in my 2020 book “How to Destroy Surveillance Capitalism,” the “online radicalization” narrative requires that you accept Big Tech’s unsupported marketing claims about its power to bypass our critical thoughts at face value.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

Claims to be able to control our minds — whether made by Rasputin, Mesmer, pick-up artists, MK-ULTRA or NLP enthusiasts — always turn out to be cons (though sometimes the con artists are also conning themselves).

But there’s a much more plausible, less controversial set of powers that Big Tech possesses. By spying on us all the time, it can help scammers target people who are ready to hear conspiratorial explanations.

By monopolizing our discourse, it allows SEO scammers to create default answers to our questions. By locking us in, it can keep us using a platform even if the discourse there makes us angry and anxious.

And by corrupting our political process, it creates “kernels of truth” for conspiratorial beliefs.

As with Scooby Doo, the monster turns out to be a familiar villain in a fright mask: a monopolist whose abuses and impunity create the anxiety that make conspiracy plausible.

#pluralistic

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