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ducktoo · 10 days ago

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First love…till not?

Aespa’s Giselle x M!Reader

Note: uhhh this is gonna be some angst stuff

You knew it was coming.

It was inevitable, really. The moment you felt the coldness settle between you like a frigid barrier, a silent warning that all was not well.

This wasn’t what you imagined when you thought of love as a kid, all those times you ran across the playground with her, climbing trees and scrabbling through dirt together, shoulders bumping and laughter rising. Those were the days when the world felt simple, like it was just you and her against everything else. But somewhere along the way, things changed.

She changed.

Each day felt like a new level of hell with her, a twisted game of push and pull that you never signed up for. The little comments that once felt like playful teasing morphed into daggers aimed right at your heart.

“Are you really going to wear that?” she'd scoff, eyeing your outfit with disdain. “You know I can’t be seen with someone who dresses like they’ve just rolled out of bed.”

You tried to laugh it off, but the sting lingered.

And then there were the late-night texts, the ones that should have been sweet but instead came wrapped in barbs.

“You’re still at home? Wow, I figured you’d have outgrown that loser phase by now.” She’d dismiss your attempts at conversation with an eye-roll emoji, as if your thoughts were nothing more than noise.

But it didn’t stop there. Every time you shared an accomplishment, her reaction felt like a punch to the gut.

“Nice job, I guess. But did you really think you’d be the best? Get real.” The first time it happened, you’d been so proud of yourself. Now? It just made you feel small, insignificant.

And it wasn’t just the words. Her actions stung too.

When you invited her to your family’s gatherings, she’d show up late, tossing off excuses with a smirk, leaving you to face your relatives alone while they questioned your choices.

“You’re not going to let them set you up with anyone, right? I mean, look at you,” she’d say, and you’d feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

When you confronted her about it, you’d been hopeful, thinking maybe she just didn’t realize how her words affected you.

“Aeri, it hurts when you talk to me like that,” you’d say, voice trembling slightly. But instead of a comforting response, she’d laugh, brushing you off.

“It’s just how I am. If you can’t take a little heat, then maybe you shouldn’t be so sensitive.”

Every insult chipped away at your self-esteem, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. You found yourself hesitating to share anything with her, fearing her reaction would cut you deeper. Wasn’t love supposed to lift you up? Instead, she made you feel like you were constantly on the edge of a cliff, teetering between despair and defeat.

The breaking point arrived like a thief in the night. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Giselle plopped down next to you, scrolling through her own feed. “Why do you spend so much time staring at that? It’s embarrassing to watch,” she said, her tone dismissive, like she was talking to a child.

“Just catching up on things,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but she rolled her eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside you.

“Just admit it—you’re wasting your life on this junk. You should be out doing something worthwhile instead of living in your phone.”

And that was it. That was the moment everything fell into place—the endless string of insults, the constant belittling, the nagging voice in your head that told you you were never good enough. You were exhausted, drained from the battle of trying to please her while she tore you down.

“Why do you talk to me like this?” you finally asked, voice soft but strained. “You… you didn’t used to. We didn’t used to be like this.”

For a moment, a flash of something crossed her face—surprise, maybe. But it was gone before you could even grasp it. She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Maybe you’ve just stopped living up to expectations. People change, you know. Or did you think you'd be the same forever?"

And there it was, her words hanging in the air like poison. You could feel your grip slipping, whatever shred of patience you’d been holding onto breaking apart. It felt like all those memories—the good ones—were slipping out of reach, fading like distant dreams.

With a deep breath, you gently pried her hand off your wrist, letting it drop. "I loved you, Aeri. So much. But… this isn’t love anymore. It can’t be."

For a moment, the silence was unbearable. She just looked at you, her gaze flickering between a hundred emotions that she was probably fighting to hold back.

But you couldn’t stay. Not this time. Without another word, you turned, letting the pain settle in your chest as you walked away. You didn’t look back—couldn’t look back—because if you did, you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep going.

And as you stepped out into the open air, the weight of it all came crashing down, the memories, the love, the heartbreak.

It was over.

The days after the breakup passed in a blur. It was like walking through a fog where time lost meaning, and every step felt heavier than the last. You’d try to distract yourself, burying your head in anything that didn’t remind you of her—work, friends, even old hobbies you’d forgotten about.

But she was everywhere, haunting your thoughts like a ghost you couldn’t shake.

Every morning felt like waking up with a hollow ache, like something vital had been ripped away and left behind a void. You’d lie there, staring at the ceiling, and the thought of her would drift in, unbidden. You’d remember the warmth of her laugh, the way her eyes used to light up, the small things you’d loved about her before everything went cold. But then, as always, the memories of her words would resurface—the cutting remarks, the icy looks, the way she seemed to take joy in tearing you down. It was a twisted mix of love and hurt, a scar too deep to simply fade.

Yet, every time you felt the familiar ache start to ease, you’d see something that reminded you she’d moved on faster than you could even breathe. A passing rumour, a social media post, or friends mentioning her out at parties, laughing and smiling like she hadn’t lost a thing. It felt like a punch to the gut every time, like she’d left you struggling while she skipped off, unbothered.

One night, as you were out with friends, someone casually mentioned seeing her with someone else, some guy you vaguely remembered from school. “They looked close,” your friend said offhandedly, not knowing the silent chaos those words set off inside you. You forced a smile, tried to shrug it off, but inside, it felt like reopening an old wound. She had already moved on, it seemed. To her, whatever you’d had was just another chapter easily closed.

But for you, it wasn’t that simple.

You’d thought you’d hate her for it, for how quick she seemed to erase you from her life. But all you felt was numbness—a hollow ache that refused to fade. You wanted to forget her, to move on as easily as she had, but that scar ran too deep. It was the kind of hurt that sat heavy in your chest, that kept you awake at night, wondering if you’d meant anything to her at all.

For Giselle, it was different.

She had always been good at compartmentalizing, at locking away her emotions somewhere they couldn’t hurt her. To her, breaking up felt like ripping off a bandage—quick, clean, and necessary. She had convinced herself that it was better this way, that maybe her words hadn’t been that harsh, that maybe you just weren’t strong enough to handle her. It was easier that way, to justify it as your fault.

The first few weeks were easy enough. She threw herself into her life, meeting new people, going out more, laughing louder, living harder. To anyone watching, she seemed fine—more than fine, even. But every so often, in the quiet moments, she’d feel the echo of your absence, a strange emptiness that crept in like a shadow she couldn’t shake.

She would scroll through her phone, accidentally stumbling upon old photos of you and her, looking so carefree, so close. Her thumb would hover over the screen for a second, maybe two, before she would snap out of it, closing it out and shoving the memories back down. Those images, those memories—they belonged to a time that was over, she reminded herself.

You were just someone she’d grown out of, that was all.

But as the months went on, that hollow feeling gnawed at her more than she wanted to admit. She’d be at a party, surrounded by people, laughing and smiling, but somehow, she’d feel like something was missing. She’d catch herself looking for you in the crowd, expecting to see your familiar face, only to be met with strangers. She’d brush it off, remind herself that she’d made the right choice, that she’d only been honest with you, even if the truth hurt.

But every so often, in the quiet of her room, she’d find herself staring at her reflection, wondering if she’d been too harsh, if she’d let go of something too quickly. She hated admitting it, even to herself, but there was a part of her that felt like she’d lost more than she wanted to.

As for you, time passed, but the scar remained. You’d tried moving on, had even gone out on a few dates here and there. But no one quite fit, no one felt like home the way she had. You were left with memories that haunted you, moments that hurt to remember but felt impossible to forget. You knew, deep down, that she wasn’t the same girl you’d grown up with, that the person you’d loved was long gone.

And yet, the weight of it sat heavy, like an invisible chain holding you back.

You stopped going to the places you used to frequent together, stopped listening to the songs you both loved. You thought distance would help, that if you could just put enough space between you and her memory, you’d finally be free. But the scar she left was too deep. The memories didn’t fade; they stayed with you, a constant reminder of a love that had turned bitter.

The worst part was, you realized, that you still loved her in some twisted way. The memories of her, of the good times before everything fell apart, were a part of you that you couldn’t let go. She was a scar you couldn’t heal, a ghost you couldn’t escape.

And maybe, just maybe, a part of you was afraid that you’d never be able to let her go entirely.

Giselle wasn’t sure what went wrong.

One moment, she was heading home after yet another bad date, heels clicking against the pavement as she clutched her phone, scrolling through a string of half-hearted messages from the guy who’d seemed like a good match on paper but ended up as anything but. He’d been polite, decent-looking, even funny at times. But the entire night had felt… hollow. Forced. Empty in a way she couldn’t quite put into words.

She barely noticed her own steps changing direction, her feet carrying her somewhere familiar, somewhere she hadn’t been in ages. And before she knew it, she was standing at the edge of the old playground where you and she had spent countless afternoons together, racing down slides and swinging as high as you could go, daring each other to jump off at the last second.

The place hadn’t changed. The swings still creaked in that comforting, rusty way, and the worn-out slide was the same as ever. A wave of nostalgia hit her, stirring something deep inside. She almost smiled, but the ache in her chest was too sharp.

What had she even been thinking, she wondered, letting you go like that? She’d told herself it was your fault, that you’d been too sensitive, too weak. She’d built up a wall, convinced herself she’d done the right thing. But standing here, she felt the cracks in that wall spreading, threatening to bring everything down with it.

Her hand brushed over the chipped paint of the slide, a strange sadness bubbling up. She could almost see you there, hear your laughter, the way you’d tease her for being afraid to jump off the swing while you soared through the air without a second thought. Those moments had felt so simple, so… real.

She realized, with a sinking feeling, that maybe she’d lost the one person who had ever truly understood her.

She glanced around the empty playground, a hollow sense of regret settling in. She had dated since then, had gone out with people who showered her with compliments and treated her well enough. But none of them had ever made her feel the way you did. None of them had seen her the way you had. She tried to shake the thought away, but it clung to her, a stubborn ghost that refused to let go.

Meanwhile, you were… okay. Better than okay, actually.

It hadn’t been easy, getting over her. For months, the weight of her memory had felt like an anchor, dragging you down, keeping you tethered to a past that hurt to remember. But somewhere along the way, you’d managed to shake it off, bit by bit. You’d thrown yourself into new things, surrounded yourself with friends who brought out the best in you. Life was lighter now, free of the constant ache that used to sit heavy in your chest.

You’d learned to enjoy your own company again, to go out without the shadow of her looming over you. You went to new places, met new people, tried things you’d never thought to try before. There were days you didn’t think of her at all, days when you felt like yourself again, like a weight had lifted and you were free to be whoever you wanted to be.

One night, while out with friends, you found yourself laughing so hard your stomach hurt, genuinely, for the first time in a long time.

It was strange, realizing you didn’t miss her anymore.

The ache had faded, replaced by a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of what was and what could never be again. You were okay with it. You were happy, even.

You hadn’t looked back at the old playground in months, hadn’t let yourself go back to the places that reminded you of her. You’d finally put that chapter behind you.

And it felt…liberating.

Back at the playground, Giselle sat down on one of the swings, her hands loosely gripping the chains as she rocked back and forth, letting the memories wash over her. She could almost hear your voice, the way you’d laugh as you tried to push her higher, always challenging her to go beyond what she thought she could. Back then, she’d loved that about you. Now, she felt the loss of it, sharp and unrelenting.

She was supposed to have moved on. That’s what she’d told herself, what she’d wanted to believe.

But in the quiet of the night, alone in a place filled with ghosts of what used to be, she felt the sting of regret settle in her chest like a wound that wouldn’t heal. It was different from her other breakups, the kind that left her with nothing more than a faint memory, forgotten after a few weeks. This one hurt in a way she hadn’t expected, a scar too deep to ignore.

Maybe the both of you were childhood friends? Maybe the both of you were each other's first love? Maybe this was you two's first break up?

It hit her, suddenly, how much she missed you. How much she missed *everything*—the quiet talks, the shared laughs, the way you’d been there for her, even when she pushed you away. She’d tried to bury it, to pretend it hadn’t mattered, but now, sitting alone in the darkness, she couldn’t escape it.

And maybe, she realized with a bitter smile, this was the cost of letting someone who truly cared about you slip away. The echoes of what could have been lingered, haunting her with every swing of the chains, every quiet creak.

She wondered if you’d forgiven her, if you’d moved on the way she was supposed to. The thought hurt more than she wanted to admit, but she knew she’d never get an answer. You were out there somewhere, living a life she wasn’t part of anymore. And she had no one to blame but herself.

The playground was empty and silent as she rose from the swing, feeling the weight of her own choices settle in, unshakeable.

The tunes whistled from your mouth were light and airy.

You decided to take a break from your routine one evening, heading out to grab some groceries. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the streets as you walked down familiar paths, feeling at ease in the skin you were slowly rediscovering. Life felt good, lighter without the weight of your past relationship clinging to you. The grocery store was just around the corner, and as you pushed through the automatic doors, the familiar sounds of carts and chatter surrounded you.

You grabbed a basket and began making your way through the aisles, casually tossing in essentials—bread, eggs, some snacks for your late-night snacks. The mundane act of grocery shopping was comforting, a small, simple pleasure. But as you rounded the corner into the liquor section, you froze.

Giselle.

Arms full of booze, like she was gearing up for a rough night. She wore the same careless look she’d always worn, lips slightly pursed, eyes focused on the labels with a calculated indifference. And then, without thinking, you let out a small, involuntary laugh.

It was almost comical, really.

After everything, after the breakup and the haunting memories, here she was, acting like nothing had changed. Like she could just keep moving on in that easy, self-assured way of hers. But something about the way she clutched that last bottle, fingers trembling just slightly, caught you off guard.

“Hey,” you found yourself saying, before you could think better of it.

She looked up, eyes widening slightly, then narrowed into something unreadable. “What are you doing here?” Her tone was sharp, almost mocking. Same old Giselle. She gave a short, cold laugh, tossing her hair back as if to brush you off like you were nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience.

“Just… groceries.” You shrugged, feeling the awkwardness settle between you. But something kept you there, rooted to the spot. Despite everything, you couldn’t walk away.

She watched you for a moment, her mouth twisting into something almost like a smirk, but there was a crack in her facade that you could see now—a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. She tried to hide it, tried to carry herself with that same arrogant pride, but it was different. Her eyes looked hollow, a little desperate.

Without another word, you took some of the bottles from her, your hands brushing for a second. She didn’t resist, didn’t argue. She just looked away, almost embarrassed, and it was the most real she’d been in a long time.

“Let me at least walk you back,” you said, more of a statement than a question. "You don't want to just sleep on the street now, right?"

“Suit yourself,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Not like I need your help, though.” Her voice was cold, dismissive, but the flicker of pain in her eyes betrayed her. She’d always been too proud to show any weakness, to admit when she was struggling.

The walk was quiet, filled with that uncomfortable silence that you both knew too well. She stumbled once, catching herself on your arm. You didn’t say anything, just steadied her, feeling the weight of everything left unspoken between you. Her grip tightened, and you could feel her fingers digging into your arm, like she was holding on to something more than just her balance.

After a while, you realized where you were headed—a nondescript hotel on the edge of town, the kind that began to run down after a few years, the kind with rooms that can be comparable to a prison cell. She let go of your arm, a bit too quickly, her face flushing as she fumbled with her keys.

“Staying here?” You couldn’t keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Just for now,” she replied, jaw clenched, defiance in her eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Why not just… I don’t know, go home? Or crash at a friend’s place?” You tried to keep the curiosity out of your tone, but the question hung heavy in the air.

She scoffed, but it sounded hollow, forced. “Why would I? I can take care of myself. Don’t need anyone.” But her voice wavered, just slightly, and for a second, she looked like she might break. She didn’t want to admit it, but you could see it in her eyes—she was struggling.

You sighed, a mix of frustration and pity welling up inside you. “Aeri… what are you doing?” You shook your head, feeling the weight of everything come rushing back, all the hurt, the pain she’d put you through. “This is just… horrible. Why are you even putting yourself through this?”

Her eyes flashed, that old arrogance flaring up. “What, you think I need you to tell me what to do?” She crossed her arms, glaring at you, but you could see the hint of desperation beneath the bravado.

“Actually, yeah,” you shot back, feeling your anger rise. “Because this? This isn’t strength, Aeri. This is you hiding, pretending like you don’t need anyone. Like you didn’t just ruin everything because you couldn’t handle being honest.”

She laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “Oh, and you’re the expert now?” Her voice was mocking, but her eyes betrayed her. “You don’t get it. I did it for us. I thought… I thought if I made you think I was all you had, that you’d never leave.”

You felt your chest tighten, anger flaring up like a wildfire. “All you had to do was be real with me! All you had to do was let me see the real you, not this… mask you wore every day. You broke me down, Aeri. And for what? Some twisted idea that I’d stay because I had no choice?”

She looked away, her hands clenched at her sides, her mouth a thin, stubborn line. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think you’d actually go.” Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with a raw vulnerability you’d never seen before.

“Well, I did. Because you left me with no choice.” You felt the weight of those words, felt the pain they carried. “And now… it’s too late. I can’t go back to who I was with you. You broke that part of me, Aeri.”

She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but no words came. Instead, she just stood there, staring at you, her pride shattered, her arrogance stripped away. And for the first time, you saw her—really saw her—raw, broken, and alone.

You stepped back, letting out a shaky breath. “Goodbye, Aeri. Our love was great…until it wasn't. ”

As you turned to leave, you heard it—a faint, choked sound, like the start of a sob. You didn’t turn around, didn’t let yourself look back. But in that moment, you knew. She was crying, silently, the first real tears for everything you’d both lost.

And you walked away, leaving her with the fragments of a love that could never be whole again.

#aespa #aespa x reader #kpop #aespa giselle #giselle #aespa x you #aespa giselle x reader #aespa x male reader #aeri uchinaga #giselle x reader #x reader

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asklesbianonceler · 5 months ago

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My Analysis on Count Ymir and Metyr

This is my personal analysis on the lore and plot as a whole, Carians vs other sorcerers, an Ymir character study, a Metyr study, and my take on it in regards to gender and deeper themes and motifs. (From a positive lens)

Blue is for things added later: last updated 8/20

I've made a post on sorcerers and their downfalls prior to this and it is still extremely important to look at the differences between sorcerers who go too far like Sellen, Azur, Lusat, and graven masses as a whole vs Ymir. Because Ymir is most closely related to Rennala, literally and narratively. They are both Carians and experience "corruption" via a similar outlet.

Sellen, and the others who looked into the primeval current, only craved knowledge. They were far more detached from the beauty and divinity of everything around them and aimed to know too much. Graven masses are students who go too far. Even Thopps somehow dies from studying too hard. This happens because of their own actions. We don't kill or fight them.

There's one thing that is consistent with all Carians. Their downfall is their hearts. Ranni makes this so clear with her poorly veiled attempts at avoiding attachment with our tarnished. She tells us to tell Blaidd and Iji how much she loves them. She is detached because she knows she must be but she is terrible at hiding that she still has a heart. Rennala was consumed with grief and loss after the golden order presumably caused her and Marika (Radagon) to miscarry as well as forcing the love of her life away from her. She also loses all of her children to their own ambitions (they move out and do their own thing) Regardless, she is a husk because of love. Rellana abandoned her home to chase after love which was likely unrequited and still she forged swords of matrimony that she wields alone until her death, ever loyal to protecting the man she fell for. Rennala understood Relanna was chasing what her heart desired and sanctioned it. This is just a known fact about Carians. They get it. Their downfall is not knowledge but succumbing to love.

We know that prior to his involvement with finger sorceries Ymir was far more of a romantic than other sorcerers. Beloved Stardust's description is from a recitation he gave as a teacher to the Carians and it states that "One need only envision the romance of the stars above with adoration for stardust in one's heart to become a greater sorcerer. Do so, and you will know love."

He tells us it's only natural to want power and the truth but to no extent is this like Sellen's quest. He is not asking us to enable him like she is. Yes, he moved on from his studying of the moon, but it was not the same way she did. She wants to unravel it all and lay it bare, pick it apart. She is also driven to understand the elden ring which is very golden order centric. (want to be clear. I love Sellen)

She wants to dissect the life in the stars. Ymir wants to appreciate it's beauty. It is a clear clinical vs whimsical, both to negative extent. Sellian vs Carian.

We have no way of knowing his history in the lands between. He looks extremely similar to the figure on the Carian inverted statue and also has ties to Miriam, but that's all we can know for a fact. We also know for a fact that there are fingercreepers in both the gardens of Caria Manor and the flipped elevator of the Carian Study Hall.

I saw someone suggest recently that these were here as original assassins of the greater will to thwart Ranni back when the Greater Will still spoke to Metyr. I do like this. I believe the fingers were there for a very long time trying to accomplish something. Further I would suggest this is where Ymir first began to question them as he was no doubt in at least one of these Carian locations pre move to the Lands of Shadow.

We also don't know his early history in the lands of shadow aside from him teaching Rellana which he likely also did in the Lands Between. It seems clear Rellana brought a few Carians with her (the handful of white robed sorcerers, Moonthryll, and her teacher Ymir)

But we can come to two possible ideas from Manus Metyr and both give us a similar end point.

A. he had his own family and a child named Yuri who died very young and was buried in the graveyard, perhaps the only family he brought with him when he left everything and moved there.

B. Yuri was always just the fingercreeper and the fact that we can read the grave pre-quest is A an error. (odd but still completely possible) Or B this implies he has been continuously trying to birth the same fingercreeper over and over. The original fingercreeper child, Yuri, that he came to love dearly that never lived long being the main grave and the others all potentially being the additional failed attempts

Later on, during his research into the fingercreepers/two fingers he learns everything he knows in present day Elden Ring, becoming a high priest of Metyr and learning many of her spells. It is also during this time that he seems to beg Metyr/The Greater Will, to allow himself to birth fingers of his own.

This can be interpreted two ways as well. And we'll go in order from our last A and Bs.

A. He loses his only child in the land of shadow and is aware of Metyrs abilities. The GW (Or Metyr?) takes pity on him and shares power with him, allowing him to birth the fingercreeper Yuri. It is up for interpretation whether Yuri actually has the soul of his lost child in it or if Ymir is just so thankful for this new child that he projects his dead son onto him. I don't think there's any emotional distinction here.

B. He wishes to become the new envoy of the greater will from the start and is given one singular child, or just one child who lives, again, likely out of the desire for connection, pity, or perhaps pettiness of Metyr. (i'll come back to this in terms of Metyr giving him power). Through this he inevitably comes to love Yuri because obviously he is going to love his first child more than life itself.

As i said, the end point is the same. He is a Carian. He loves too fiercely. His original goals are pushed aside by the love he has for Yuri. In private he only talks about Yuri. He doesn't muse on and on about clinical knowledge or his desire to replace a god. He does not speak with any hint of madness, just utter devotion that I could see being seen as unhealthy. (i don't interpret it this way at this point but i get it. Just remember he is someone who is nearly completely alone in the land of shadow who has potentially experienced loss of severe magnitude before)

I also think that what we overhear at Yuri's grave sounds completely normal for grief. He wishes to be left alone and when he talks to Yuri he talks about only wanting to be his mother. He laments failing and promises to try again for him. This also lends to the idea that he believes there is a singular soul being moved around.

He only talks about Yuri. He isn't talking about replacing Metry and these are his most private thoughts.

I have seen theories that suggest he did not birth Yuri himself and perhaps stole him. His dialogue in private heavily implies he birthed him himself. As well as his unaltered robes which say they conceal an abundance of squirming beneath. So he had those fingers under there the whole time, definitely not as large and efficient as the ones during his boss fight, but they were there... and they were functioning.

I also don't think he ever comes off as this delusional? that might just be me but everything he says and everything Jolán says about him contradicts this. If there's any delusion it's the denial that comes with grief where he could believe his child's soul is in the baby fingercreeper.

But back to his quest- when we meet him he knows that the fingers that told Marika what to do were corrupt because Metyr is corrupt. He is exclusively blaming Metyr for this source of sickness. (this is an instance of him being a not fully educated narrator. He is slightly right, but needs to go further, a further we only learn from item descriptions where we learn the GW no longer wants a finger mother* i'll get back to this. But also THIS IS SO IMPORTANT WE LITERALLY LEARN THAT THE LANDS BETWEEN LOST THE PLOT AND THE FINGERS AND ANY ENDING THAT FOLLOWS THEM IS WRONG)

I believe at this point he thinks he birthed Yuri through the powers of the greater will and himself exclusively. I don't think he believes Metyr was involved because he knows Metyr is sick. He thinks the GW still wants a finger mother to send new messages.

We do his quest, we bind ourselves to our fate in the stars and of course that fate leads us to slay another remembrance boss. We need to clean up all the failed ideas of the GW so they aren't sticking around and causing trouble. Classic tarnished shit. iykyk.

EDIT: there is dialogue I missed and it seems dialogue a lot of people missed. If you talk to him after fighting Anna but before Metyr he asks you if you saw something down there, referring to Metyr. He tells you to remove it and any misconceptions from your mind lest it bring woe upon the both of you. (This is paraphrasing I don't completely remember the exact wording rn but it's essentially this). He doesn't want you to mess with Metyr. He has his own plans. He knows something bad will happen and he tells you to forget about her.

So why is Ymir hurt by you fighting Metyr even though the quest lead you hear? Irreparably hurt even? (1 and 2 can exist together still. they are not exclusively one or the other)

He had pushed aside this loftier goal and was still grieving for Yuri and only wanted to be his mother. The mother of one child. (To me that feels like it isn't taking it far enough. I do think he firmly believes he can do it better still. He hasn't realized the full truth. I just don't think this is at the forefront of his mind at this moment. He still wants to be The mother. His high opinion of himself makes it clear he believes he can do this)

He did not know that the GW had no need for Metyr any longer and that she had been broken and abandoned. He merely thought she was corrupted. So when he is possessed BY Metyr this is awful. He wanted to be a new mother. Not the same one.

GOES WITH MY PREVIOUS ADD ON: he may be aware he is using Metyr as a power source and believes killing her will affect him negatively. It is unclear if he knows the type or extent. Perhaps believing it will take away his power or perhaps aware it could be too much for him. He is also learning from her, so her untimely death would also be bad simply for this reason.

Okay now it's time for me to talk about Metyr in greater detail

The Staff of the Great Beyond says Metyr was broken and abandoned but still kept waiting for messages. This is also what the spell fleeting microcosm says which is likely referring to both Ymir and Metyr at this point since it is a spell that can be purchased from him as well as one Metyr uses, going on to say "The broken and discarded are fully willing to cling to fleeting simulacra, earning them some modicum of sympathy" He is a clearly broken person who thought he was grasping the GW's truth but wasn't and Metyr was clinging to her old life hoping for it to come back and for her to have purpose again despite being abandoned by her own mother. Metyr is unique and incredibly complicated which is interesting because her closest equivalent is the Elden Beast and other falling stars. Her items make it clear she had complex feelings- anger, grief, loneliness, resentment, loyalty. She WAS the magnificent gleaming daughter of the Greater Will. She was once loved and she knows that. Her other remembrance weapon is called Gazing Finger, but it's the name of its move that tells us the most about her. Kowtower's Resentment. She showed unwavering respect to the GW but she grew to resent it. We learn so much about her that only further ties into the overall themes of motherhood in Elden Ring. Imagine how Metyr must feel. Aside from the brewing hate inside her caused by the GW directly TOO her she is also forced to watch her children either grow increasingly more and more corrupt over time or slain. She knows her children aren't going into the world to be loved any longer. She knows she's sending them off to a terrible fate and still she must do it. Her children are purposeless. When we tie our fate to the stars- the great cosmic will- the new plan, it brings us there and it prompts us to kill Metyr and clean up its loose ends. But instead of letting herself be killed outright or leaving the lands between/shadow, she goes somewhere else because she is angry. She wants to be loved and needed. She is desperate to receive messages again. She wants to prove herself. We can say for certain that it is Metyr that possess Ymir in our fight because the GW has no desire to make a new mother of fingers and Metyr had already been lending him her power. There is only one and we clearly don't kill all of her at first. Is this her last effort to best the GW or merely her defiance to continue on living? Waiting to be of use again? Alas, we kill Ymir as well. ALSO- just mentioned Metyr to my wife and she said "Yeah Metyr is so similar to Messmer" and I literally said OH FUCK. YEAH! So let's touch on that: Both of them are abandoned by their mother, trapped somewhere, enacting her original design, spreading her original message all while never hearing from her ever again and still remaining fiercely loyal to the end.

Now back to Ymir and Metyr

Was Metyr sharing her powers with him out of loneliness or spite or simply curiosity?

It's definitely something that's up for personal interpretation because I don't believe these are spells just anyone can use or learn. The simple glintstone nail spells even say Ymir thinks they are "child's play" but fleeting microcosm and Cherishiny fingers are very different. The nail spells are ones others may be able to learn but the other two are unique to finger mothers. Also the act of birthing fingers is not a spell. It's Metyrs own unique ability and purpose- so clearly Metyrs power directly from her.

Did she long to be understood? To share what she was going through with someone else? Was she trying to show him that it wasn't her that was broken?

Did she resent him for blaming her and studying her? Or did she herself think she was to blame? Did she share her grief with him out of spite? Making him too experience loss via Yuri?

Or did she also have a bit of hope that maybe through a new vessel she would be seen again by the GW? Maybe her children wouldn't be cursed.

She certainly shared quite a lot with Ymir for it to be out of spite and their items and spells mimicking each other in descriptions really makes it feel like she wanted him to understand her. Both of their staffs show a microcosm but receive no answer. She lets him birth her children.

And Yuri is clearly aware of this. He's likely never seen Metyr but still has nightmares about her. Ymir telling him to "put that tangled mess out of his mind" He's torn quite literally about his origins. Ymir is his mother but Metyr is a presence he is aware of and in unfamiliar with to the point of fear. Perhaps this is what brings about his early death- that incomplete or splintered origin.

On to Ymir boss fight speculation/ theory

We have our ideas on why Ymir was hurt and upset by us fighting Metyr. Him taking on her corruption and learning GW truths as well as his own grief already being too forefront. But I wonder if when Metyr possessed Ymir he took on her grief and loneliness as well. Would he be able to cope with her literal cosmic scale of loss and heartache? Being misunderstood? Being abandoned by her own mother? I think it's a really interesting foil to have Sellen and co. destroyed and driven to insanity by knowledge and Ymir driven to insanity by grief and love. It makes the tear streaked makeup on his boss model hit a lot harder that way and feel far more intentional as tears which is what the dripping black really evokes (despite is being part of the tattoo category of character creation which is definitely just character creator limitation)

When we fight Ymir he also has a really effective voice inflection change as well. Props to his voice actor for almost making him sound completely different and just gone.

But yeah it feels clear that his fight is the built up madness of both him and Metyr's greatest desires manifested. They're consumed by loss and anger and a desire to be wanted and seen in the eyes of the greater will. They both want to receive messages and be The Mother.

Then we get his normal voice when we kill him where all he can think of is Yuri again and wanting to be his mother. He isn't thinking about being THE mother. Literally just Yuri. What is most important to him. The true Ymir. And of course, it's similar to Rennala's true voice coming through when we beat her, speaking about her beloved daughter, just HER daughter, not the sweetings.

I truly don't think he was as insane or gone as people think he was in nearly the entirety of his quest. and I honestly just think people default to saying "oh he's insane and delusional and freaky" because he is a "man" who is a mother.

okay thank god i can finally get into the gender of all this.

What do we know about Ymir in regards to gender?

Names are intentionally chosen in fromsoft games. Ymir was a norse giant who, though using masculine pronouns, was considered neither male nor female because he could birth children of his own.

He is named after an agender mythological figure who also has a moon named after him.

So we can read into Ymir being agender. He uses masculine pronouns, wears headwear that is strictly feminine, very neutral royal attire (we don't know enough about Carian clothing to have an opinion on the robe, gloves, or pants), a little makeup, and has no hang ups on being able to be a mother.

I, as someone who is nonbinary, have my own unique connection to him as a character that makes me really like this about him. In my brain gender means nothing which separates me from my trans wife where gender and expression mean everything. I have never had a mental connection to gender. I have presented many ways in my life since coming out. My outward appearance does not dictate my relationship to gender nor what I can do. In fact I think about gender very little.

Motherhood not being synonymous with female pronouns here is cool to me as well. it is nice gender non-essentialism.

But if we get into Elden Ring as being about women and the feminine divine as a whole, we can also read into him differently.

I've seen many people tag him as being trans to them! And I like that just as much.

He studies the fingers which are exclusively ruled by women. Metyr is their mother, finger readers are all women, then of course finger maidens. Even further, Metyr is a daughter of the GW. He says we ALL are her children. The GW is the original mother of all things. The creator of all life because she created stardust and to study the stars is to study the life in all things. Nearly all societies in ER are led by women. There is an innate power in womanhood in ER.

He gazed into the stars with adoration in his heart and knew true love. He felt loved amidst that divinity and sought to follow that path for himself. He embraced something that meant everything to him body and soul. He underwent true physical change for it. And with Yuri he was happy.

And of course, as all soulsborne games, it has to be tragic for us to see beauty in it, so he, just like nearly everyone else we know, faces a terrible end because of the fate of our tarnished and the GW's goal. He isn't a villain because he has a unique relationship with gender and it is kinda wild i've seen someone say that.

My additional thought on this is that it feels unnecessarily detailed for his robe description to talk about the ruff that "sparkles like a flower wet with dew" We really only get two other characters specifically connected to flowers and that's Malenia and St.Trina. Both are related to feminine identity, divinity, and true self. Malenia becoming the Scarlet Aeonia, her true form as a goddess, and St. Trina literally being the woman Miquella was meant to become. A literal transition could have saved her narrative.

So yes, I can absolutely see people interpreting Ymir through a trans woman lens as well. I love that different people can identify with this character differently and see parts of themself here and if other people have different takes on this character's gender identity and it making them feel represented, that's great! I just can only talk on my personal take and the discussion i had about him with my wife.

Can I see why people wouldn't like him? Yeah, so long as it isn't based on a lack of knowledge of the plot, items, and dialogue, or based on extreme pre-existing biases. Because I have seen a bad take or two that boil down to this kind of misinformation which is really frustrating.

There is no evidence in the text that he is a bad person. Jolán respects and cares for him immensely. She doesn't reveal to us any actual feelings about Anna and this is all very vague. Yes Anna is a puppet but Nox are the only people we know of that did willingly become puppets. She is also a recusant which is interesting as well. Most invaders are just invaders. Recusants specifically are invaders with a job (recusant fingers only come from Rykard but are snake scaled so potentially also Eiglay? Base Serpent? She may have just served another master). There may also be a reason for this due to game function alone or there may be the narrative reason. We really can't know much about them as they are side, side characters. But them being Nox i think is telling. He was also clearly a very respected Carian sorcerer and was a teacher to Rellana. Textually, he is never portrayed negatively by others nor in his items.

Here are some final add-ons

that i don't want to complicate my earlier jumble with that whether important or not, are worth seeing. I just didn't know where to add them. Also I do not have a final interpretation of these things in the greater context:

An item I would like to touch on as well as an item that goes hand in hand with it (pun intended) is the spell Cherishing Fingers as well as Fingercreeper Ashes. Cherishing Fingers says "The dear fingers look after their mother, or perhaps that is merely what the mother wishes to believe." but Fingercreeper ashes says " They are ever so fond of their mothers at this tender age"

These two items kind of contradict each other, implying the fingers DO care about their mother. But the intentional doubt is interesting. Fingercreeper ashes, as well as Yuri being in his arms really makes it feel like they do care, but perhaps as they grow older they don't? Or this can help drive a "delusional" narrative. But fingercreeper ashes really make it seem like it goes both ways.

Also, Why are the ruins (Miyr) beneath Manus Metyr just an anagram for Ymir? Did he name them that? Did he name himself Ymir? Is it a cool coincidence that he pogged at when he found out? Is it just a random world building choice? This I literally cannot interpret.

I thought of the name change thing and that lead me to investigate every single rise on both maps to see if one could have been his but nothing seems likely. but on to Rabbath's rise

Anna's puppet body is there. Rabbath is a known sorcerer who was a spellmachinist. Being a machinist is very anti everything Ymir does and is into. Is Rabbath the person who designed the marionettes? That is a loose end we don't know the answer to and being a machinist is telling but this is extreme speculation. I saw someone suggest he and Ymir may have been either friends or rivals- both could give potential case for Ymir's puppet being there. Again. JUST speculative interpretations of this because we also do not know enough about Anna either. Rabbath also, like many other Rise owners, doesn't appear to be dead. Some Rises have a gravenmass in them which feels clear was the original owner. But Rabbaths is empty and something different about Rabbath's rise in comparison to most others is that all the candles in his rise are out. I don't know what this means. Why is Anna in a part of his rise that is nearly inaccessible? To me this makes it seem like she’s exclusively there to be kept safe as this place can only be accessed by us on torrent… literally no one else.

I'd like to add some additional, after the fact, thoughts and observations I have no place for as well

In terms of Jolán I’m confident her loyalty to Ymir stems from the Nox’s belief that one day their lord of night will come to them, bringing with them the age of stars and the fate that the Nox had been stripped of after their banishment. She refers to Ymir as her shining star and after he is gone she only sees darkness. I could very well see her believing Ymir is the promised lord of night as he so heavily believes in the fate of the stars and brings stars to her life personally.

But by all accounts the Nox hate the GW and were the ones who created a blade to slay its vassals, which Metyr is one of. Perhaps this is where Jolan and Anna disagreed. Perhaps this is why she is a puppet now. Anna may have stayed true to their beliefs where Jolan instead saw the promised liege and pledged her service to him. Again, anything with Anna is still speculation but it would make sense if she and Anna and the other swordhands of night were initially there for a reason as they are the only Nox in the lands of Shadow and wear fingerprint armor independent of their connection to Ymir. Perhaps the fingerslayer blade was made for Metyr, the source of the GWs words. Perhaps this is the cause of the injury on Metyrs chest. This is something I could get far too into speculation on though. But it is interesting to speculate on as the location of her injury is not somewhere she would have fingers, so likely not Ymir’s doing, and is also a real “going for the kill” location. Again, chew on this one as you will.

Cherishing Fingers: I thought about this A LOT and I wish it was easy for me to fit it into the upper main post. Cherishing Fingers is "one of Ymir's spells" so why isn't it in his bell bearing? We get it not when he dies but after. It isn't dropped with his death loot and it only shows up after we rest and it doesn't show up on his body it shows up at Yuri's grave. And I know you could say "Well characters like Rogiers items are gotten from where we last saw him sitting even though he's gone) but we already got all of Ymir's things. Literally 6 items worth of loot. This is intentionally somewhere else. So two theories. This is not Ymir's final item given to us but Yuris. The fingers no longer have to protect their mother and are no longer trapped in rebirth so they leave behind a spell after they too finally pass on. Theory 2, Ymir, after our fight, chooses to die by Yuri's side, at his child's grave, leaving behind a final spell to remember him by. Regardless there is a reason this spell is separate and special. It's description that can sew doubt, to me, is negated by the positive description on the fingercreeper ashes that confirm they do love their mother. This also being found at a fingercreepers grave is also very telling.

The caged fingercreepers: if you look close and really work your camera, there are a handful of cages only near Ymir's throne that have fingercreepers in them. Are they still alive? Are they in there for their safety or because Ymir thinks differently of them/they aren't as important to him as Yuri? I do not have a final interpretation of this but it's important to note here. I have my wide reaching headcanon about this of course but it isn't something I'm confident presenting the way I present these interpretations.

Ymir’s neck ruff: this is only coming up because I’m writing a full over the top clothing analysis for him, but this one is connected to the lore, not the independent character design choices and it’s actually quite interesting. Aside from its description as a flower, which I mentioned in my gender portion, it also uses the word dew, something that has a specific and loaded meaning in ER and there are a lot of important Dew items. The new item dewgem, being connected to sprites, the dewkissed herba and Celestial Dew from the eternal cities, and Blessed Dew and the icon shield depicting erdtree boons and a divine age. Because dewgem is very hornsent adjacent I'm more inclined to connect it to the latter two types and I think I'd like to connect it to them both at once instead of picking but feel free to side with either. I'm just telling you how I feel. The allusion to celestial dew and glowing like a star, mentioning fate in the night sky, and being the dew of absolution is all interesting and this would be one additional connection to Joláns adoration to him, seeing the resemblance and iconography of her stars on his person. Creating familiarity. His mentioning of redemption and desire to break the cycle of corrupt messages also ties well into the idea of absolution and new beginnings. He is obviously tied to the stars, but the ruff is gold much like the blessed dew items which are described as divine, depicting ideas of eternal prosperity and blessings which paint dew as a concept as something extremely symbolic and sacred. Dew in both forms represent a new age and gifts of that age- one being absolution and fate, the other prosperity and divinity. Ymir believes in all of these things. Unlike the Nox he values the Greater Wills goals and words. He wishes to help bring about a new age, guided by the stars, via the Greater Wills untainted words. So the connection to blessed dew wouldn't be "erdtree good" but moreso how dew was viewed during that time and to those who believed in it. It seems more like a nod to the prosperity possible in a new age with roots that are not tainted and mad. A motif intentionally conveying similar ideas that others already have positive connection to. (You thought that erdtree was good? Imagine a tree that isn't corrupt)

OKAY ANYWAYS THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!! If anyone stuck around for the whole thing I will be truly baffled but thank you if you did! Love Ymir with all my heart! if there are any typos or repetition please understand i really just kept going train of thought style here and its a lot to reread 4 times over to keep double checking as every time i got sidetracked.

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artbyblastweave · 2 months ago

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One interesting thing about The Hulk's role in the Hickman Ultimate Universe is that he's close to an inversion of his character in the original Ultimate Universe.

In the original Ultimate Universe, the gag surrounding Hulk- and much of what went into The Ultimates should be understood through the lens of a gag- was that his uncontrollable rage and homicidal toxic masculinity made him a millstone around the necks of the rest of the roster, their first major deployment being to get him under control after he loses his shit and kills 800 people in New York while trying to kill and eat Freddie Prinze Jr- an embarrassment that gets hushed up after the fact. In the grand finale of the first volume they barely, barely manage to get him aimed at the invading aliens by telling him the aliens called him gay, and then he still nearly eats Hawkeye before the tranqs kick in. He's less a part of the team than a barely directable bomb, emblematic of the fact that the Ultimates, collectively, do not have their shit together-it's a rotten idea to the core.

In the New Ultimate Universe, he's the one member of the classic Avengers lineup who's thrown in with The Maker, again standing in opposition to the rest of the team, but for the complete opposite reason. He's very visibly a road-not-taken of the Ultimate Hulk- same color scheme- but he worked his shit out, he found a self-help book, he became less insecure, less self-absorbed, altogether more functional. And it turns out that a "functional" version of that hulk comes out the other side as an Adrian-Veidt style of holier-than-thou Compassionate-enough-to-Kill-thousands-for-the-greater-good kind of figure, who callously tests the mutagenic effects of gamma exposure on isolated indigenous populations on the side. Fucker built nukes for the army- were we expecting a saint?

Anyway, this sort of leads into a thought I've been having about the comic in general, which is that with superhero comics it can be genuinely really hard to judge the dividing line between something that's cleverly meta and something that doesn't have the strength to stand on its own as a narrative without being composed of one million billion deep cut references. All the best cape comics are about cape comics. The actual stated project of The New Ultimate Universe is to create something so inextricably embedded in batshit comics continuity that no MCU adaptation is at all plausible, so, uh, mission accomplished? I tried to explain this specific Hulk-inversion beat to a non-comics-reading friend the other day and by the time I'd gotten through all the requisite context I was giving real Charlie Kelly without even the dignity of a good conspiracy board as a visual aid.

#new ultimate universe #ultimate comics #thoughts #meta #jonathan hickman #deniz camp

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emmaofnormandy · 4 months ago

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Imagine Aegon comes to comfort you.

Warnings: drama, angst because of reasons; fluffy though because we love writing fluffy Aegon. Long post.

***

What a strange bond you and the lord Aegon share. As the daughter of Ser Gwayne of House Hightower, you were raised as part of the Targaryen family since you could remember—but comparison, implicitly as it was, was always there.

You always aimed to please so what else could you do if not doing as told? You were raised to be like your royal aunt but your sweet nature prevented to emulate her flaws. Indeed your wit was as sharp as knife and your tongue could ricochet when provoked, but only your looks could tell what were you doing amidst an incestuous family.

Nevertheless, against all odds you did get well with them. How could it not be? You were raised with your cousins, but it was Aegon who climbed your walls and knocked them out.

Though he’s expected to marry his sister, it’s you whom he follows everywhere. There are whispers at court, but, as you told your aunt once, where there are tongues, words will be spoken.

Yet… now you are a young woman, in an age close to marry. You have no dragons to ride and all you can brag is about winning Aemond over poetry competition.

At times you are next to Helaena, but you feel outshone by your sweet cousin.

What is this, what is this that torments me so?

You have demons to fight underneath your mask of duty and you do not like when they crave their claws on your flesh. So today you withdraw, certain that no one is going to notice your absence.

When you do so, melancholy has you on its trap. You are swallowed by it, there staying whilst your footsteps automatically sway out of their view. You dissociate, rewinding the times you disappointed every one you know.

Perhaps what is worse is the day Princess Helaena and Prince Aegon’s betrothal is announced. You found yourself wishing to be in her shoes, the perfect Princess.

Disgusted by mundane sentiments you are suffocated when confronted by your imperfections. You need some air. Perhaps the gardens will offer some solution.

Barefoot, your Hightower curls are blown off your head the more you run into the labyrinth of green towers of leaves and pomades. Tears roll out, uninvited, as if the grip around them is now loose. Because at the center of this rarely visited labyrinth lies a cold stoned bench where you sit and burst into silent, painful tears.

Even a merry prince as himself needs some moment to himself. Regardless of how fearful he is of loneliness—which is usually mistaken as a moment of fragility—, Aegon feels in the air that not all is well as it should.

It takes no more than a few minutes to notice the lady Y/N Hightower’s escape of the court. He sighs. Thus the recollections begin as the silver haired Targaryen royal retraces your steps.

I remember well, my lady, when we bonded. It was odd that someone laughed at my sarcastic remarks; that a relative would appreciate my fierceness, or even compliment my efforts in reading messy words.

Whenever I was faulted for not being hard working like Aemond, or when envy consumed my poor soul for being overshadowed by Rhaenyra, you stood for me. You held my hand, dismissed my fragilities and reassured me I was as good as any of them. You encouraged me flying with Sunfyre when I was anguished before the Strong boys. You never failed to surprise me, a deed few—if any at all—accomplished.

But I was so selfish…. When you fell, where was I? When you wept, where was I? When your strength was shaken, I failed you. I blinded myself because I supposed you and Aemond were too bright to burn. I whored because the idea of you led me to believe I was unworthy—as my mother often remarked that she found our friendship rather unusual, uncommon, unmatched: you, the perfection; me, the broken man.

Indeed she has been correct in her judgement. But reason often tormented me because I am too weak to surpass myself. Where there are obstacles, I see an invitation to encourage my sins; where there are defiances, I convince myself I lack capacity to overcome them.

I am not brave. No, my precious lady. This errant prince is unworthy of your affection. Nonetheless… I will rescue you. You will see that I am capable of loving, even if this means to admit I cannot be loved.

The sight of you in complete distress makes him rush his steps. Part of him is relieved to see you haven’t done anything imprudent, but another prays anxiously for whatever deity that he is not the cause of your atonement.

“Goodness!”, you almost cry out when you see Aegon. You stand quickly, trying to recompose yourself. “A-Aegon! I mean, my lord cousin.”

You try desperately to omit your distress, to conceal your anxiety, but Aegon sees through you. The prince holds your wrists and pulls you against him.

“Don’t. Don’t do this, Y/N.”

Still holding a hand over your right wrist, he releases his free hand to gently brush away your eyes, after lifting your chin so he can read the pain in them.

“We’ve already surpassed this phase, haven’t we? It’s long gone since that day where… well, where we had mutual accusations of distrust”, says he, pleased to make you chuckle lightly.

“True. We are not children anymore”.

The distance is short. Shorter than what usually is. You can smell his scent, which only infuriates your racing heart.

“Then why are you running away?”

You sigh. Something about his long gaze at you, at the kindness behind his lilac irises, at the soft smile on his lips… is enough to disperse your insecurities.

“I am not running away.”

It’s a weak protest, a lie that Aegon knows what it really means. He once used it to shy away everyone who dares to approach him. For some reason, this old tactic never worked with you. It is only natural that it has no success with him as well.

“You are not well. What troubles you, my sweet? Always the dutiful daughter, always the merry one of us all, the prideful daughter of Old Town.” He strokes your cheek once more. “The stories we created, the past I was part of… cannot be just that.”

“We forged a very good bond, didn’t we?”

“Indeed.” Then a flash of hurt crosses his gaze for a moment. “Is it what it is, though? A good bond is what we have?”

And just like that you set yourself free of his touch. Where there was warmth, now there is cold.

“I cannot… Do not make me say what I may regret. Leave me to my pain, to be tormented by my delusions.”

“I may be many of the things I am accused of. However, to be careless is not one of them.” Aegon takes you by your arm, forcing you to turn at him. “Tell me I am only a memory, that we are nothing.”

“I was always yours, cousin. But you were never mine”, you burst out what’s been killing you. “I am not Helaena. Nor a Targaryen can I be considered! What am I? Who am I? Somewhere along the lines I became what is expected! But I lost myself in the process.”

“I will not sacrifice us for duty!” He holds you against him, your frame tied in between his arms. You find the same anguish in his eyes, the old desperation that equals yours, an entire ocean of profound sentiments that invite to an inevitable drowning.

Cupping your cheeks with his hands, he stares back at yours.

“It pains me that I am not able to take away your suffering. Miserable is the man who cannot uphold a sword to battle his damsel’s torments. For years I accepted that I failed before the world. But when it comes to you, Y/N, I am not afraid of the dark. I am not that fucking cunt. You never left me on my own. Unworthy as I am, hardly magnanimous as others might suggest to make me their jest, you remain.”

“I am a sinner, Aegon. Filth with…”

He covers your mouth, impeding words to come out of your disgraced soul any longer.

“For years we repressed it. Nay, Y/N. Do not make us miserable anymore. I shall make you mine at the cost of all.” And yet when battles seemingly obstinate at the cost of your breakdown, he holds you close. “Come here. Let us leave this world, uh? I know exactly what you deserve.”

You stay there for a moment, taking his words as what you need to hear. What you need to heal. Aegon is your balsam, and this is touching in many ways.

The rogue prince, rejected by all of those who, by blood, are moved by this familiar pretense of loving him, is someone else’s solace. You, often the strong one, so sensible and reasonable, rely on his feeble, meek prince whose divinity is nothing but a mask.

Thus you stay. And he loves you more than he can admit.

Sunfyre seems to smile at you when Aegon gleefully takes you to him.

“Come now. He won’t bite you!”, your rogue prince beams at you. He extends his hand at you. “Do you honestly think this is a privilege I give everyone I know?”

His golden scaled dragon seems to huff as if to say: “Indeed, my lady. Do you honestly think I would allow anyone to ride me besides Aegon?”

You giggle softly. Aegon sees you blushing, the idea of enjoying a privilege few would ever do makes you suddenly shy. Your face is adorably pink, a great sight to behold when adding to it your loose curly red hair.

“Well?”

“I do not mean to keep you waiting”, you take his hand, enjoying the warmth of your fingers locked. “Thank you for having me, Sunfyre.”

The winged creature looks at you pompously, a very adorable sight that makes you smile.

“How can one not smile before the most beautiful dragon there has ever been?”, says Aegon, resting his face against Sunfyre’s forehead. “Heavens know this is just… unmatched.”

“You have a very strong bond with this one”, you observe, smiling.

“He understands me like no other”, Aegon smiles as Sunfyre confirms him with its own way of showing tenderness. “We belong to each other.”

“Indeed. I am pleased he takes you as who you are. It is what it should have always been.”

“Come now. Let us fly!”

You take the hand offered even though you are not dressed for the occasion. As Sunfyre opens its wings and begins to fly, his hands around your waist ensure you that you are safe.

“You may be Targaryen in your own way, Y/Nickname”, Aegon whispers in your ear. “But I prefer you being Hightower. It has a better ring to it, hasn’t it? Lady Y/N Hightower.”

You giggle like a little girl. Oh, once upon a time you dreamed of this moment. It is unique, indescribable. He is so close to you, carefree and merry.

His arms around your waist as he leads the way when pulling the reins of Sunfyre, at the same time letting it be leaded by this beautiful golden winged creature.

Wind blows your hair, messing it all the way as you fly higher and maybe a choked sound comes out of your throat. Adrenaline runs in your veins and for a second you fear you are about to fall.

“Trust in me, my lady! You are safe with me!”, Aegon chuckles quietly.

You can only nod. Despite the fear, you trust your guts, and delegate all the power to him. Aegon’s face is close to yours so he can read your expressions, the subtle change in your countenance quite clear. And yet when you relax, when your shoulders are light again, he knows the value of your trust.

Taking the opportunity to surprise you, he is bold enough to press his lips against your cheek.

“Oh, Aegon!”, you blush, batting your eyelashes timidly.

“Are you enjoying this adventure?”, Aegon looks so content like he hasn’t been in years.

When your gazes meet, you forget that he is promised to another. You are led to believe he is delegating his heart to your possession. Against reason, you nurture hope.

“More than I deserve. Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Anything for my lady”, and even up in the skies he takes your hand and presses a kiss on it.

This time Sunfyre flies slowly, stable as it is up in the air. It is when Aegon takes his time to enjoy it with you.

“Aegon…”, you hesitate.

“Yes?”

He waits. When he does so, eyes are locked in a long gaze. He notices the color that paints your irises, the red that paints your curls, your long nose and heart-shaped face. Sweet features that mirror the kindness within. Your lips tremble and the prince is eager to hear those words.

Those three words that he too is eager to pronounce, tasting them for the first time in a lifetime of rage and frustration.

“I am scared to speak my mind.”

Aegon puts a hand over your chin, his callous hand moving higher to cup your cheek. To fight away the remaining shadows of your heart, right at the twilight, he knocks his pride down when choosing to be the one to say what must be said.

“Y/N Hightower, throughout these years my cold heart has been endeared to a new sentiment of a kind I never experimented before, often judged to never feel it because I was deemed unworthy of it. The root to my heart has been uneasy, I know, and yet you took it with the bravery of your gentleness.”

As the words come out so naturally, you blush deeper. You’d look away if he doesn’t make you stay and see the truth in his gaze.

“You, the very center of my heart, have grown more than a companion, a cousin, someone with whom I share blood. Nights grow cold without you, I sinned hopelessly because I thought…” Aegon sighs, impatient with himself. “All of this is to say that I love you.”

To his surprise, you cup his face with your hands and lock your lips with his. Right as the sun starts to go down, as the colors of twilight begin to paint the skies, every doubt is solved, every shadow dissipates.

It is a peaceful kiss, perfectly paired even if it starts sloppy. Sunfyre hums happily as if to put a soundtrack to this moment where Aegon Targaryen is genuinely happy for the first time in years.

“I love you, Aegon”, you rest your forehead against his. “Whatever it comes, never forget how endeared you are.”

He cannot argue when you say in such a sweet manner. You convince him that with patience and time, love flourishes.

And you stay like this for a while.

***

Aegon’s eyes are glued in you. Today you are dancing with Princess Helaena by her side at a feast that honours the king’s name day.

“Lady Y/N must be a witch”, muses Aemond out of the blue.

“What for?”, Aegon casts a frown at his younger brother. “Do not dessacralize her name like this, Aemond.”

“Oh. So you are far more smitten than I have assumed”, Aemond raises his eyebrows. “And here I was presuming you’d make her one of your mistresses…considering whom you are betrothed to.”

“Assume what you want. Lady Y/N is not a mistress, no.”

His brother cannot believe his ears. Is this an scandal in the making?

“You cannot be serious. Aegon…”

“What? All I can do is displease others as it seems. They are not content when I do as told. It is time to take my life with my own hands.”

“This will not end well.”

“We shall try and see.”

Aegon stands impatiently and moves to where you are. He knows all eyes are set on him: courtiers hold their breath when you come at his meeting. But what do they know when love is clear in the eyes of the Cupid’s victims?

Helaena, who knew from day one where this would go, smiles to you and excuses herself to Aemond’s side—which only served to leave Alicent astonished, but not entirely displeased since she likes you.

What indeed comes out as a shock is that Aegon has eyes to no other but you.

“We are making it obvious”, you murmur.

“Let it be so. I have no shame in showing my affection for you.”

“Aegon, but you are promised to another”, he sees the pain it comes when acknowledging this fact.

Hands are held and bodies dance when he says calmly:

“Betrothals are often brokered. It happens under uncertainties until marriages are certain.”

You cast him a long wide gaze.

“You cannot be serious..”

Aegon smiles at you in a way few have seen it. The dance comes to an end and he bows before you, lingering a kiss on your wrist without parting gazes.

“I am most serious in my intentions, lady Y/N.”

***

You are occupied with embroidery, lost in your thoughts by the time the queen comes to meet you.

“Y-Your Grace, my aunt”, you dip to a gracious curtsy, blushing as you do so, aware of the reason why she suddenly came to see you.

“No need formalities, child”, she gives you a small smile. “I came to talk to you. I believe you know why.”

As you mutter some answer, Queen Alicent is reminded of herself. You could have been her daughter had she been married off to a nobleman of a house like Tyrell. Not only that but some traits you possess makes her lament how she wasted her youth being a puppet to serve her father’s ambition.

Painful remembrances. And yet… you are tracing a better path than she ever did.

“I am not angry at you, dear child. I should have assumed any of this would result. To be honest, your grandsire was hoping to marry you to Aemond, seeing how similar you are.” Alicent smiles, clearly judging otherwise. “Well, Helaena was closer to Aemond than you in any case.”

“I have nothing to say against lord Aemond, my queen, but it is true that I am closer to lord Aegon.”

“I neglected to consider your sentiments in these matters much as mine were discarded by the time… Oh, never mind. It does little good to dwell in the past”, she now takes your hand. “Aegon surprised me for the first time. He is strongly decided to make you his wife.”

“Oh”, you cannot disguise your surprise. You have to put a hand on your heart as if to prevent you to pass out. “He actually means it!”

Queen Alicent chuckles at your reaction.

“I was shocked too myself, but the king and I are happy to see a change in his comportment. For which on behalf of the crown I thank you and officially welcome you to this disfunctional family, dearest Y/N.”

You laugh quietly. For the first time in a long time your demons are defeated and you taste a safe victory. This is not about comparisons anymore, nor to be gushed by insecurities. Aegon has helped you heal in many, many ways.

***

A few moons later…

“I thought I was not born for happiness”, you confide him right after you landed with Sunfyre.

Since the day Aegon and you were married, the king granted the newly weds a household so you could enjoy your privacy. Ever since this day, Springhall has been your home.

“Why would you say that, Y/Nickname?”, he holds your arm against him as you two walk side by side back inside. “Stealing from me the typical phrasing effect?”

You chuckle quietly.

“No, I mean every word I said. When circumstances forced me to acknowledge my feelings for you, Aegon, I never thought you’d correspond. I felt as if I loved a star too high to grasp.”

It is your way with words that move his heart. It is how these echo the sincerity with your devotion that bends a prideful man like him. Aegon stops the pace and turns you around.

“It pains me that you have gone through difficult months, withdrawn to a heavy pressure of expectations your mother and father laid on you. Even more that I disappointed you with my wayward manners”, he takes your fingers and kisses each for a long time.

Summer breeze blows his hair, and you seem to notice this day he is not dressing dark shade of green, but a light one instead, which matches yours.

“We tend to get lost in our way when we are not properly guided, I’m afraid. But I cannot excuse my past, when I was given the chance to write a better future. Your unending loyalty to me, Y/N… Gods. I could list to all of your virtues that charmed me… In fact, let me do it.”

He keeps his words. Your self esteem has never been higher. A man like him to praise yourself in this manner… Oh, how many skeptical persons would have mocked this possibility?

To be loved like a fair damsel in these stories you read is a reality you’ve thought impossible. You knew your dreams were prompted to be sacrificed by the duties to serve your family, but alas! The impossible is now possible!

“What a joy you give me to be your wife”, you say more tearful than you know.

“You are my heart’s queen, my heart’s gleam, light of my life, my sun and stars. I am devoted to you until the last breath of this body.”

You take his hands and plants a kiss on each, holding his fingers firmly as you look at him with a spark in your gaze.

“My best beloved, I could not find happiness elsewhere but with you. My soul rejoices when yours is close to mine, when day and night I can love you right. Oh, you light my life and lead the way to Seven Paradises!”

“My poetess!”

And saying so, he kisses you under sunlight.

***

• Epilogue.

Prince Aegon’s marriage has not only proven to be a great surprise to many and a true delight to all, but in many ways it was scandalous too.

Specially because he formally abdicated of his rights to the crown to spend his lifetime with you. By giving these to his younger brother, Aemond, well… Ser Otto Hightower might have to adjust his plans. And your sweet demeanor makes it difficult to be blamed for such a decision. Besides, you found in your father a good supporter at court so all is well that ends well.

Before the great series of events that are coming, you give Aegon a number of children to occupy yourselves to. These are:

1. Aegon, named after his father.

2. Rhaena, his twin.

3. Alysanne.

4. Daena.

5. Daeron.

6. Jaehaerys.

7. Maekar.

8. Daenys.

And two miscarriages. What is intriguing is that by the time King Viserys’ death, you and Aegon are found living your lives quietly in Essos.

So when war comes, Aemond starts to question himself.

Where is Aegon? Can he be counted on for this war? Or should he better be left in his domestic affairs?

But these speculations run out of this scope. Besides, it’s not as if Aegon and Y/N Targaryen would pose any danger to Aemond and Helaena’s inheritance… Right?

Whatever it is, some things are better left unsaid. And you and Aegon content yourselves with this very peaceful scenario…

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x you #king aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aegon ii fic #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii x female reader #aegon ii x oc #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x reader

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aurumacadicus · 3 months ago

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Reading levels only serve a purpose in schools if you want to read that novel aimed at middle schoolers as an adult FUCKING READ IT. Who's going to stop you? The book police? Fuck 'em. If it'll get you to read, who fucking cares?

I am still mad as hell at thirty-three that I didn't get to finish the Clifford series in elementary school because my teacher told the librarian not to let me check them out anymore because it was below my reading level. The librarian even shooed me away from the shelf it was on when I just tried to read them during library time. Like they did not take a moment to ask if I was reading more difficult books (I was, at home, my older sister let me borrow hers), nor did she ask me WHY I was reading them (I was reading them because they were easy AND happy because we were reading Bunnicula in class and I was scared). I didn't read another book at school for the rest of the year that wasn't for class. What did my teacher and librarian accomplish? Teaching me shame about the books I enjoyed reading.

Read what you're fucking interested in.

#books #reading #remembered this randomly while buying the one and only ivan today

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astrid-sama · 10 months ago

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What if a reader x carmilla but reader sold their soul to Carmilla as a show of love and devotion to her? Like either they were already dating, or they confessed and gave her their soul when she accepted.

(Hi, thanks for your request, I'm sorry it took me so long to write it, but I wanted to give context to your request)

Carmilla Carmine x fem reader

The first thing I thought of when I realized I was in hell was "what did I do to deserve it?", even today I can't give myself an answer, while alive I had always been told that to end up in hell you had to have accomplished horrible actions, but I had never done anything wrong; the only blame that can be attributed to me is my death, I was killed, due to my naivety, by what I believed to be the love of my life.

At first I was quite surprised by hell, I imagined it as a great chasm that descended to the bowels of the earth inhabited by sadistic demons whose aim was to make your eternal damnation an agony, but instead it was a large city and to make your eternal damnation and torment were not demonic creatures but other sinners.

When I had resigned myself to my eternal "life" of suffering, I met the person who made me feel like I was in paradise without ever having even seen the golden gates of heaven.

The first time I met Carmilla was during the extermination, I had recently arrived in hell and I didn't know that once a year the angels came to kill sinners.

I was about to be killed by an exterminating angel but then she came and saved me.

When, after having made the angel flee, she held out her hand to help me stand up and asked me how I was, I felt my heart skip a beat. I don't know exactly what Carmilla liked about me, but after that day I was no longer alone in hell, at first I found an acquaintance, then a friend and finally a lover.

Carmilla had introduced me to her daughters before we even got together, she was very happy when she saw that we got along well, in fact within a few months I had become their "second mother".

The day Carmilla confessed her love to me and asked me if I wanted to be her girlfriend was the best day of my life.

Our relationship was perfect and made me realize how different our relationship was from what I had had in the past, Carmilla was always kind and loving to me, she gave me black roses (my favorite flowers) because she wanted to and not as as a sign of apology for hitting me, she never had outbursts of anger because I went out with my friends or because I didn't answer her phone calls; and the more time passed the more my fear grew that one day all this would end, it wasn't often that I was able to express my love for her to Carmilla and I feared that if I wasn't able to show her that I would be hers forever she would get tired of me (like my ex who had finally killed me).

I began to think about the best way to show her my undying love for her and finally decided that I would give her my soul.

I had organized a romantic dinner at our house and asked Clara and Odette if they could leave us alone for the evening.

My heart begins to beat faster with anticipation when you hear the door open symbolizing Carmilla's return.

-Welcome back-

I said and Carmilla greeted me by kissing me tenderly on the lips.

-How was your day?-

-Good now that you are here with me, mi amor-

I felt my cheeks heat up at the cute nickname, oh how I loved when she spoke to me in Spanish.

-Come love, I gave you a surprise-

-Did I do something special to deserve a candlelit dinner?-

-Why can't I treat my girlfriend well? Come let's go eat-

The dinner was very pleasant and Carmilla's hand remained on top of mine the entire time.

After dinner, Carmilla and I sat on the couch so close our knees were touching.

-Carmilla, I wanted to give you a gift, since you usually give me gifts-

-Mi amor there was no need, you are enough for me-

Carmilla said and then kissed my hands.

-Of course there is a need. I wanted to give you something that could show you how much I love you and that I would do anything for you; I want to give you my soul-

I expected Carmilla to be happy, but instead the emotion I saw on her face was bewilderment.

-Mi amor, don't joke with certain things-

-I'm serious -

-Why do you want to give me your soul?-

-I want to show you that I love you and that I will love you forever and there is no better way to do it than to give yourself to you-

-Mi amor why do you think you have to prove something to me?-

-I I...-

I didn't know what to say, I wanted to show Carmilla that I loved her as she always did for me and I had believed that giving her my soul would be the best path, I wanted to avoid having doubts about our relationship, I wanted to avoid it ending up the way it ended with my ex because maybe if I had shown him how much I loved him he wouldn't have had any doubts about us maybe he wouldn't have killed me maybe...

-Mi amor please tell me what pushed you to do something like that, you know you can tell me everything.-

Carmilla looked very worried.-

When I was still alive I had a relationship, he was very possessive and wanted me to prove to him that I was his but I didn't do it and I ruined everything and in the end he killed me; I was afraid of ruining everything with you too-

-Mi amor possessiveness is not a sign of love, the person you were with before was toxic and if he had really loved you he wouldn't have killed you. I don't need you to give me your soul to love you, I just love you-

-Please forgive me, I didn't realize how toxic what I wanted to do was-

-It's not your fault mi amor, it's the fault of that bastard who made you believe that those things were normal in a relationship. Mi amor I love you more than my life, if you want I will always be by your side and I will help you overcome the wounds that your past reaction has left you.-

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x fem reader #carmilla carmine x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine

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circeyoru · 2 months ago

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Collection of Overlords _ Epilogue = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13 — Part 14 — Part 15 — Part 16 — Epilogue (here)

Charlie’s face grimanced as she watched Alastor and Husk at your services whenever. Even Angel was comfortable around you now. Her stare shy away the moment your head turned to her direction, even though your eyes were closed, she could feel that she made eye contract with you. You gave her the same soft and gentle smile with a nod, she nodded back but her eyes lips pressed to a tight line.

She moved when she heard the lift ding to signal its arrival, she got in and pressed her desired floor, looking out as the doors closed at the press of a button. Her eyes met yours as the doors slowly closed like time was slowed or paused, the longest wait of her life was this. You maintained your stared until your attention was called away and Charlie immediately let out a sigh of relief.

The dear princess steadied herself, she has to do something. She was the one that brought along this hotel, she was the one that brought along all her friends, she was the one that survived that hellish experience with the exterminators. So why was it that the moment you arrived that she felt a change? Saw a change.

She knew she wasn’t enough, that there was more to do as the Princess of Hell. She lacked so much that her people hardly see her as the Princess, the heir to the throne. When she saw your commanding presence in action, she thought she could learn from you. Yet, she found herself unable to get close to you.

She saw how Alastor was always with you, treating you in a way that was never shown before your arrival. She saw how Husk was more actively attentive without that sharp edge in his tone and words. She saw how Angel was more respectful and mindful of his words and actions, being more open and kinder like a cageless bird. She saw how Vaggie was less angry and tense, even with new guest, also having at least a small smile on her face. She also saw how much more cheerful her father, Lucifer, was after your arrival.

And Niffty was Niffty but more tamed, if one could believe it.

These were all things she wanted to do, things she was aiming to help them change. Granted, she knew it’d take some time to achieve, but that’s what the journey will teach them, that things take time to change. She just can’t understand how you brought along this change in the short amount of time you were here. She saw what you have accomplished without even trying to be impossible. A miracle.

“Dad, you got some time?” Charlie knocked on the door to Lucifer’s workshop, another renovation that you granted to her hotel along with a few other special rooms after your identity was revealed by Lucifer. “Can we talk?”

Charlie flinched as she heard stuff fall and crash behind the door, then she could make out her father stumbling to the door before it opened and Lucifer was standing there with an awkward but excited smile, “Charlie! Of course! Come in, come in.” Lucifer moved to the side to let his daughter enter and closed the door behind her, “Weird that you’re free to chat. Ah, not that I’m not happy or bu- I mean, don’t you usually have some friendship or moral class now?”

“Uh… Well, The Coll- Silver offered for a day off for me since I’ve been working too hard and everyone else agreed. Husk’s teaching everyone to be careful for themselves and others, you know, like lies and tricks?” Charlie felt like she was choking as she admitted that, it was like she was slacking off, like her purpose was being taken from her.

Lucifer sighed, bringing Charlie to sit down at a tea table and sat down himself. With a snap of his fingers, drinks and snacks appeared on the table. He pushed a cup to Charlie before sipping on one himself. His smile dropped as he noticed the obvious frown on her face. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Why are there so many changes after Silver came to the hotel?” Charlie blurted out, Lucifer blinked before getting to respond or given the chance to, Charlie continued, “Not that the changes are bad, but they are the changes I thought I can do it with time. Hell’s my home, this hotel and everyone here is my family and friends, I thought… I thought I can finally pull my weight and help… You know, do my part and be the Princess of Hell.”

“Charlie, you need to understand.” Lucifer got up and went to her, kneeling down so that he was looking up at her, “The throne was never ours.”

The princess gasped. “Then why—”

“We’re only given the title. It means nothing to anyone other than the Sinners.” Lucifer explained, “You never been to the other Rings, but there, you’d be no more than a minor significant figure. We only manage the Sinners, the souls sent to Hell after death, we’re the King and Princess of Sinners. Not of Hell.”

“Then who…”

“Charlie, you’re important to me and I know redemption and this hotel is important to you. But like I told you before, you can’t protect anything without power and authority, you can’t change anything with those as well.” Lucifer got up and opened his six wings, “We’re given this title to protect ourselves, Lilith and I, it never extended to you because you were never there in the beginning when the words were spoken. It was never agreed that our place will be taken over by an heir.”

Charlie got up, feeling like everything was being taken away from her, “So what. Am I nothing now? I can’t amount to anything?”

Lucifer held her hands in his, giving her an encouraging smile, “No. I never mean that. All these changes you’re seeing means potential and interest in rising you to be the next Queen. Teacher doesn’t throw away anyone.” He chuckled, “I had nothing when I came here, Lilith too, but Teach gave us so much. Teach is also giving you so much too. Where this hotel is built, this land was untouched the moment you were born. Until you said to move out, this land is yours.”

Charlie blinked, her heart ached as her eyes pooled up, “Then I’m not being thrown away? I’m not..”

“Never. Everything Teach may be, Teach isn’t pure evil. Otherwise,” Lucifer smiled brightly, “We’d all be dead where we stand.”

Charlie chuckled along, but then froze, “Wait, but then, that means Silver’s the real… Oh my… But you tell me all this, aren’t you in—?!”

Lucifer patted Charlie’s hands, “These are secrets meant for your ears now, Teach said when you ask then I can tell, it was time you knew. Because more challenges will be coming for you in the future.”

“The Princess is ready for her test. For this stage, it’s vital for her to grow. To do that, we need some friction. Between the hotel and the new Overlords.” You turned to the three kneeling Overloards behind you. “The former Vees and Alastor. Your history with each other, Vox and Alastor, would be of great help.”

Alastor, Vox and Velvette all raised their heads as they meet your attention.

“I won’t disappoint, My Sovereign.”

“I’ll do as you command, My Sovereign.”

“Everything will be as you wish, My Liege.”

Note: Okay. This is really really the final part. Say bye bye to this series everyone. I have no idea if it will continue when Season 2 is up cause of all the changes I did for this series. Thanks for sticking by this story till the end everyone.

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @snowy-violet @charlottesskiss @plutobots @ray-rook @thealienartist @serenity-songbird @galaxydreamer468 @raynerrold @wen01203 @hikari-michiko @colecreo @myromanempiree @xsamkuro @yourdoorisunlocked @clavelina @jono723 @cursedcattalastor @an-idyllic-novelist @flamiohotman2024 @rea-grace @myromanempiree @veroneverleft @lousypotatoes @crazysuityouth @jellyedkazoo @wat4r @kiraisastay @thealienartist @chefysawesomeideas @wtvbabes @patronizingbitch @koshi-kazu @craftyperfectiontragedy @scr4luv @chrollobb @mysterypotatoink @callmefe @dokukg69 @ratchetprime211 @freejayde @prettyprincess-ily @cgmajor @mook14 @ace-spades-1 @yuuandtheghost @abbiesxox @martinys-world @kiraisastay @umbreon-worshipper @crimsonflameproxy @the-gay-trash-gremlin @ratchetprime211 @soggyb0nes @newkatzkafe2023

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spiral-lemur · 2 months ago

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OK THE ANNUAL’S OUT AND I JUST NEED TO BABBLE ABOUT STUFF SOOO SPOILERS AHEAD READ AT UR OWN RISK ETC ETC ETC

OK STORY NUMBER 1.

Ok wow. No it’s fine really. Go ahead. Go ahead and BREAK MY FUCKING HEART right off the bat. They don’t even know later in they’re subconsciously Still following the path Starline mapped out for them by still aiming to replace Sonic and Tails. Like yeah this time Eggman is on the chopping block for real which would make Starline lose his gay little mind but GODDDDDDD

Also it’s really funny that the general perception is that Kit is the more mellow of the two. Appearance wise? Yeah. Mannerisms? For the most part yeah. But deep down this little guy is FUCKED UP.

Like every so often the comic just reminds you “see this cute little guy? he can and will drown you for nothing more than surge’s happiness if he sees fit.” Lil dude does NOT care. Genuinely curious as to how this plotline will develop later on since Kit is clearly misguided. Yes he wants to help Surge and she’ll be happy for a while with this arrangement…as long as she doesn’t find out. What happens when she finds out though? I doubt she’ll be very happy to know all her “accomplishments” were part of a carefully constructed narrative set up by the very person who was meant to support her. I’m just RRRRRRRRGGHRGGHHHRTHHHHHH about them yknow? Also I think it’s interesting that this is set sometime after issue 75; very curious about what “he had to drag them out of there” means for the safety of Restoration HQ and I’m even more curious about where Surge and Kit are right now. Are they still there? Bunking somewhere else? What happened with them and their ties to Clutch and Mimic? Lots of questions to wait and find out. Very excited to see how this goes.

Now for the Knuckles story; admittedly this one isn’t spinning around my brain as much because of the other two stories, but it’s still a lovely read. It serves as some insight for Knuckles’ thoughts about his current life and relationships with his friends and it brings a good ol’ smile to my face.

The art FUCKS as usual when ABT is involved. Like this page? This page right here. Gorgeous. Would be a very fun redraw I think. And I feel it says a lot about how Knuckles feels about these characters without having to say anything which is nice. Rouge, for all the trouble she gives him, also gives him an outlet to blow off some steam and a reason to keep up with his training(aside from Eggman of course), and she obviously wouldn’t be there if he didn’t respect her to some degree. Sonic is someone Knuckles views as a worthy rival, but he’s also a treasured friend alongside Amy and Tails. They may clash, but he knows that at the end of the day they’ve got his back, and he’s got their’s. The Chaotix are a little trickier to pinpoint, but they’re here for a reason. I believe they add a dash of excitement and companionship to his life. They might be a bunch of clowns, but they’re HIS clowns and he cares about them just as much as everyone else here. He knows he can depend on them when it comes down to it, which is what I believe the Master Emerald was trying to get at here.

Also Sonknux enjoyers got a little snack here. A little treat even. But it’s nice to see that just like these guys are still on Knuckles’ mind, he never left THEIR minds either. It’s nice to see that they aren’t just trying to get his help for something and just giving him a friendly visit because 1.) We get to see Knuckles and 2.) The dude could use a day where they don’t bring trouble to his doorstep LOL

Also what the FUCK happened to the Tornado guys I JUST said you weren’t bringing trouble to his doorstep you better keep it that way—

And then it ends with the gang catching Knux up to speed on their latest shenanigans. Like I mentioned earlier I think this story serves as a look into how Knuckles views his current situation, and it’s very heartwarming in my opinion. I think this sequence really sums up the big takeaway from this story:

sorry the quality is ass it’s hard to do these things on a phone

There was a moment where I thought that bright light echidna was Tikal, and I’m a little disappointed it wasn’t. It’s still nice but if it’d been her, you’d best believe I’d have a lot more screamy words about it. It’s not a bad story at all though, and if you’re a Knuckles fan who loves digging into his deeper thoughts I think this story is a good read for you. Also YIPPIEE KNUCKLES CONFIRMED FOR ISSUE 80!!!

Now for the story that I(and I’m sure many others are) am currently foaming at the mouth the most over. It’s no surprise at all that a look into Mimic’s backstory would be something I eat the fuck up as a massive fan of Tangle, Whisper, and everything relating to them. But holy WOW this story had everything I could’ve wanted and I will be using this as fuel for my Diamond Cutter Autism™️

Okay, starting off with him being an actor before joining the Diamond Cutters. This may not seem as relevant to people compared to literally everything else in this story BUT you guys. You guys. When I tell you I lost my shit. Why? BECAUSE I FUCKING CALLED THAT SHIT.

This excerpt is from a (now scrapped) fic where I tried tackling a possible redemption arc for Mimic. We hadn’t had any backstory for Mimic so I’d tried making one up that tied into his shapeshifting. I ended up scrapping the whole thing because Mimic kept getting worse/more irredeemable as a character and I didn’t feel like trying to keep it going; and I feel the need to bring up that Tangle and Whisper would’ve never fully trusted or forgiven him(like. at all), he just would’ve gotten over trying to kill them by the end. I swear I wasn’t aiming for a “you did this horrible shit but it’s ok you feel bad about it so we’re buddies now :3” type deal. Anyway, that useless bit of info aside, I wrote this thing back in 2022. It’s not EXACTLY the same way obviously, but seeing this after having written him as a former actor made me actually stop and gape for a second before scrambling to find that old draft. I guess I could just SMELL the washed up actor on him. And yeah maybe it was the most plausible thing, but I’ve been given an inch and just this once I’m going to run this mile in circles.

After the whole acting thing, the war started, Mimic wanted to show off, left some other teams for dead, etc etc and then he met THEM.

This…houghhhhhhhhh

Do you think Whisper ever thinks back to this day? Do you think it’s ever crossed her mind that if she’d never invited him, her friends might still be alive? Do you think this thought eats her alive on bad nights? Whisper honey I am so fucking sorry. It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known how fucking shitty this guy really was. You didn’t deserve that.

FUCK!!!

Ahem. It’s really bittersweet looking into how these guys acted not just as a team, but as friends. We got a better look as to how these guys were personality-wise and it just stings knowing that this little found family is no longer here because one of them just couldn’t handle vulnerability. Smithy was like an older brother—wise, but just as goofy and playful as the rest of them, and just as ready to tease his little twerps. Claire was like an older sister; similar to Smithy, always looking out for the others, but just as ready to make fun of them. She was probably the straightman in a lot of their antics, but with that loving “oh, you” sense to it. Slinger was the goofy, cocky younger brother. Ready to go for the biggest thing he could find, and usually needing to be saved from his own ambition. He’d make up for that trouble by bringing in a lifetime supply of laughs for all of them. And Whisper…honestly I’d go as far as saying Whisper back then was just like Tangle is now. Optimistic, eager, bubbly. I wonder if that might be why she gravitated towards Tangle rather than the other characters she was friendly with; even before their miniseries. I’d show more images for this part but apparently I can only use 10 images on a phone and my computer still isn’t up so that’s just SWELL. For the last image I’ve got, I’ll just use this:

It just stings so HARD when you really think about what was taken from her. We might have gotten the Whisper we know and love because of it, sure. She may not have met any of the people she holds dear now if it hadn’t gone the way it did. But the fact that she had this little family, the fact she loved them so dearly, the fact she’d put so much trust into them—only to have it ripped away in one selfish decision? That’ll hurt forever. That’ll haunt her for the rest of life; it’ll haunt me too. God the Diamond Cutters sting so good.

Now let’s get Mimic’s little monologue in here. Ahem.

“I got what I wanted. Did I just crave validation? Was it ever about the spotlight? I can’t be myself around them. They don’t know what I’ve done…friendship is supposed to feel good. Solid. Like a foundation…so why does it hurt so much? They don’t see I’m a walking contradiction. One look p-past my facade and I’ll be thrown away! I can’t afford to be so fragile. I look back at my acting days with a soul-wrenching truth staring back at me. The more things change, the more they stay the same. It’s a rehearsed charade! They are all mirrors, saying what I want to hear until they get what they want. They can’t be trusted. I refuse to play this game anymore.

The moment an opportunity to be rid of these nuisances came, I readily took it. The Diamond Cutters would be gone from this world and mine. I could clear my mind and never feel such visceral pain from their fake smiles. Attachment was erased, like weeds pulled from a garden, as they perished. The pain inside nearly vanished, a good sign for my healing journey. Yet…there was a single, terribly annoying headache left to deal with. I can’t fix what that team did to me until I shatter every last one. Only with this knife, will I finally be cleansed.

I can’t think straight tonight. What is the point of reflecting on all these memories? Am I afraid? Or am I just…tired? Soon, that pain deep within myself will be washed away. And this can all be a bad, bad dream. I’m selfish, arrogant, and colder than a frozen lake. I enjoy the chase, watching others struggle, and I love that about me! I know what I am, so…who are you?”

Man…a LOT to unpack here.

Mimic is a coward. There’s certainly vitriol to my words, but it’s also just a fact based on the evidence we’ve seen. He’d been burned so many times chasing the spotlight in the past, he’d grown to view it as conditional. No one ever truly valued his contributions in his eyes. He was just another part of an act, and when that act was over, no one would need each other anymore—so whenever he felt done with putting on the “show” of contributing to a new team during the war, he quickly cut ties. Some ways more permanent than others—we’ll never know for certain if he got those people killed like the Diamond Cutters, but he certainly didn’t care if he did. The show was over. It didn’t matter.

Then the Diamond Cutters came along. The show was going well, it was a broadway smash! Then the actor’s nemesis began to creep in; imposter syndrome. Mimic knew deep down, he didn’t deserve this success. How many people did he really cut down as he chased the spotlight? How many people had seen his previous work? How long until that all came back to bite him? He didn’t know. It terrified him deep down, judging from the moments of hesitation he’d shown in his monologue. Surely it began to gnaw at him more and more towards the end. He can’t trust them, his smiles were fake so they all had to be faking too, right? There was no way there was such a thing as genuine friendship, teamwork, or any of the like. If it didn’t exist in his world, it couldn’t have existed at all. It began to be kill or be killed; and Mimic intended to be the one doing the killing. So he cut them down too.

But Whisper survived. Whisper was a present reminder of the horrible, selfish things he’d done. As long as she’s around, he can never fully ignore what he’s left behind. He can never truly run away from all of it. So he has his sights set on her; killing her will surely solve all the pain within himself. It has to. It has to.

And he still hesitates. Maybe it’s the way suppressed guilt is manifesting itself, maybe it’s being overly cautious, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. Perhaps once there was a time he could’ve gone back on everything and reinvented himself, but it’s gone now. And he’ll run away from that possibility for the rest of his life. He just has to get rid of that last poster before he can move on to his next big show.

Or I could easily be reading way too much into it but who cares I’m having fun this way! Really enjoyed this story—easily my favorite of the three if you couldn’t tell from all that word vomit. This annual might just be my favorite of them all so far, and I’m excited to see how these characters continue to develop as the comic runs on. That’s just about everything I can think of to say, so that ends my babbling. Thanks to everyone who read this far! I don’t normally get so wordy but this annual really just activated something in me.

#idw sonic spoilers #idw sonic #surge the tenrec #kit the fennec #knuckles the echidna #whisper the wolf #slinger the ocelot #smithy the lion #claire voyance #mimic the octopus #mar says a thing

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lafaiette · 24 days ago

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Gods I feel you I'm only 10 hours in after having received the game as a gift and I REALLY try to like it but it just ... doesn't feel like Dragon Age. Characters know stuff they shouldn't know about, the game keeps talking down to me, nothing I did in the previous games mattered, the tone is completely different, the mature storytelling of the previous games seems to be missing so far & what I heard so far of how the lore and the characters from previous games have been handled is honestly the worst part and breaks my heart. idk even if i wanna finish the game at this point anymore, I'm just kinda ... sad.

I'm so sad and disappointed, too, I remember our conversations, fics, and headcanons about DA! We were so excited and happy, because Inquisition, DA2, and DAO were genuinely well-made and aimed at pleasing the fans, despite their faults.

DATV is a good action game, no doubt about that. The combat is fun, there is a lot to explore and discover, and many locations are beautiful, even though some are terrible to navigate (Dock Town's structure makes no sense). But that's it - it's a good action game with the name "Dragon Age" pasted on it. It doesn't feel like it's part of the series, it constantly treats the player like an idiot, some references to past games and characters are literally hidden in the brief descriptions of the mementos, and there is even a Glossary to make sure the new players don't get frustrated.

Everything is safe and aseptic, cleaned of every deep piece of lore that could have scared new fans into buying or continuing the game. Even the banters lack the depth of the previous games.

A good game company should lure new players in not by rejecting their past entries, but by making them look even more interesting with their sequels.

Bioware wasn't afraid of offering piece of lore after piece of lore in Inquisition - it was a game set in a precise moment, whose prologue was directly tied to the events of the previous game, and new players had to accept this if they decided to buy it and play it. If they liked that premise, all that information and those details, then they were more than welcome - they were encouraged! - to go back, try the older games, and see how it had all started. It was a game made for the fans the company had already managed to win over, not for possible fans who may or may not bring new money in.

In DATV the new players can jump right in after quickly learning who Solas is and what he's trying to do, and old fans are left with an empty shell, with minor references that are supposed to make us feel happy and accomplished peppered here and there, while all our past choices and our favorite characters are forgotten or brought back with a terrible case of amnesia. It's lazy, infuriating, and very sad, and it smells of reboot, because the new devs probably realized they couldn't keep up with the amount of lore and choices the series contain, and they needed to start anew.

#da:tv critical #andauril #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #and at this point i also agree with those who criticized the art style #because while some zones are indeed beautiful #the style is absolutely nonsensical #the Grand Necropolis looks like a Disneyland theme park #the characters' facial expressions are even worse than inquisition's #everyone either smirks even when talking about death or stands holding their hands on their belly #the qun symbol and main colors are present in minrathous' architecture - why???#the dalish are suddenly okay with their gods being tyrants and no one is ever called a shem #oh and their magic is also magic technology now #all electricity and 'pathways'#the warden fortress in rivain has fereldan and chantry banners - why???#the wardens aren't associated to either of them #taash's mother makes no sense #there are no parents under the qun #she is their tama at best #but even then since she's a follower of the qun she shouldn't let taash call her 'mother'#also taash saying the qun isn't a prison #my sibling in andraste... if you try to leave you're declared vashoth or tal-vashoth and seen as a traitor #the elven uprising implied in trespasser also never comes to pass #'when the slightest unite a giant will rise'#uh-huh #where are solas' agents? abelas and his sentinels? why aren't they panicking over solas' sudden absence and his failed ritual?#what a mess

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marveltrumpshate · 1 year ago

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As we said in our closing message at the end of this year’s auction, we've become something bigger and better than we ever imagined we could be when our journey began in 2018. As we mark half a decade of Marvel Trumps Hate, we want to share a few milestones with you starting with this year's auction results, so if you're used to our auction results posts…well, this one will look a little different. 😉

This year, 152 "Marvel"-ous creators came forward to offer 264 auctions.

And this year, we raised…

Back in 2018, our first auction total of $19,262.52 blew our minds—and this is over $16,700 more than that! 😮💖🎉

This was a quieter year than most (surely we're not the only ones suffering burnout because this has been A Year), so we're extremely grateful and proud of what we accomplished together. We broke records, some of which we were aiming for and some which we weren't. Of the ones we didn't expect, the record for the highest amount donated to a charity, which we smashed in 2021 ($6,349.98 to Planned Parenthood), was shattered with a whopping $8,039.99 going to Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors Without Borders). We also had the biggest amount raised by a single auction this year: an unbelievable $2,101.67. All hail the power of pods!

And the biggest record of all that we set in 2023…

Drum roll, please…

With the help of 923 unique creators offering 2,217 auctions over the past five years, we raised a grand total of…

WE RAISED OVER $200,000, EVERYONE! No, we can't believe our eyes either. We're floored to say the least although maybe we shouldn't have been surprised. Every year, you manage to surprise us and set records, and this year was no different. You came out of the gate running and somehow you blazed right past our expectations, continued to make us adjust our stretch goals as bids and donations came in, and hit a number we weren't sure we'd reach even as we began to hope for it.

It’s been an incredible journey, with the mod chat pinging at all hours with excited gifs, effusive heart emojis, and inarticulate keyboard smashes as we expressed our love for the wonderful people in our fandom. It’s been very hard not blurting out the milestones as we reached them when we desperately wanted to share these amazing results with you all.

Creators, we couldn't have started this auction without you. We loved seeing so many veteran creators sign up again and were pleasantly surprised by how many new faces showed up to the party.

Bidders, as crazy as it sounds, most donations were small ones including a lot of those crazily high winning bids—so many of them were the result of people pooling their five dollars together! This has been consistently the case since MTH began. It just goes to show how much of an impact you can have when you’re part of something bigger than yourself. Each donation has a ripple effect, and enough ripples can cause a wave. You matter, and you can make a difference.

We also owe our success to our amazing signal boosters. There can’t be an auction without any participants, so to every fandom community Tumblr that agreed to reblog our posts, every Discord server mod who let us post announcements, and every person who shared our posts and encouraged their fandom friends to sign up and/or bid, thank you so much! Together, we reached hundreds of fantastic creators and bidders from all corners of the Marvel fandom, many of whom we didn't know and some who were hearing about us for the first time.

We’re so touched by the massive number of people who donated above and beyond their pledged amount, creators who took on multiple auctions and offered multiple winner slots, and bidders who accepted their second-place wins with such eagerness! We also had people make donations in the spirit of MTH even though they didn’t win an auction, which was beyond generous.

In addition to the astounding amount of money we were able to raise for charity, MTH was successful in other ways. We strove to be as inclusive as possible, determined to make this event a fandom-wide effort. Considering that the auctions covered over 381 unique platonic and romantic relationships and character-centric options (if we include "all ships/gen"-inclusive relationships, this number is even higher) across 36 universes within the Marvel multiverse, we can safely say that we accomplished our goal.

This spirit of inclusion also applies to our auctions and charities. Every one of 264 auctions was bid on, and every one of our 30 supported charities received donations. We’re in awe of your commitment to supporting all our creators and charities and thrilled that you spread all the love around, bidders!

Here’s our breakdown of the donations (to enlarge the image, click here and hover to see the donation amount per charity).

We’ve also listed the amount raised per charity on our 2023 auction results page.

From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for helping us turn our sixth Marvel Trumps Hate auction and the celebration of half a decade of MTH into such a fantastic experience. We cherish every single message of love and support that we received and continue to receive on our Discord server and through DMs, Tumblr messages, emails, tweets, etc. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! We wouldn't be half as good at this—we couldn't have done any of this—if we weren't doing it with you. And that's the truth. ❤️

To remember or learn why we created this auction in the first place, please check out our 2018 "thank you" post to all of our creators, bidders, signal boosters, and supporters.

If you'd like to stay updated on all of the 2023 Marvel Trumps Hate fills, follow us and/or check out the "mth 2023" tag on our Tumblr. You’ll also be able to find works posted on AO3 in our Marvel Trumps Hate 2023 collection and links to fills in our Discord server, which you can join to brainstorm prompts, chat about fills, and find out about other fandom events.

Thank you once again to everyone who volunteered their services, time, money, and platforms to spread the word. These are tough times we live in, and it's easy to believe that there's only so much you can do as an individual. But as Tony and Natasha realized throughout their years as Avengers, we become something more than ourselves when we're part of a team.

We may come from different walks of life and hail from different parts of the world. We may be part of different fandoms within the Marvel multiverse. Many of us don't cross paths except this one time of the year. But despite our differences, we share a common goal and because of our differences, we're capable of making the impossible possible. And the only way to do that is, as Steve and Tony learned over their years of knowing each other, together.

And with that, MTH 2023 has officially come to a close. We're so beyond grateful to you all and can’t wait to see all of your fanworks over the coming year! But first, we’re going to follow baby Groot and take a moment to relax.

Lots of love and gratitude, Your 2023 MTH mods

#marvel trumps hate #mth 2023 #announcement

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grapejuicestyless · 1 year ago

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You’re The Winner

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and you were once inseparable. Both reaching to achieve big dreams. You always dreamed of being a writer and director. You were no where near Harry’s fame, and he knows it. He’s not afraid to let you know it either. Based off the new Conan song, “Winner.”

I didn’t notice it at first, as it came in waves. Tiny jokes pointed at my deepest hurts. Insults baked in sugary dough to hide the sourness beneath. Small snickers traveling around the rooms we were in. Laughter growing when I turned my back.

Soon, his comments became more aimed. Less broad, more explicit. He was blunt in his insults. Snide remarks turning into insults meant only to tear me down.

It shouldn’t have hurt me this much, all these stupid comments. If it were anyone else, I would’ve brushed them off as pure jealousy. But this wasn’t anyone else. This was Harry. A man who had everything. Money, fame, friends, party invitations piling at his door. But more than that, he was my best friend. My guide through Hollywood. The kindest soul that I had ever crossed paths with one fateful night in late 2013.

Back then he was so shy, despite his huge successes. Despite all the gains he was making, all the achievements, all the accomplishments, he was just as humble and down to earth. Never once caring about anyone’s status. He couldn’t care less what projects I was pursuing. Who I was working with, how much money I was making. When I was with him, I was just me. Not some new rising director, some writer chick that was starting to make headlines. I was simply, me.

I don’t know where that Harry went, but this wasn’t him. I considered the idea that maybe a stunt double had stepped in to take the old Harry’s place. All while the old Harry was away at some lavish beach resort in some expensive town off the coast of Italy I’d never heard of. That would’ve made so much more sense, but impossible. This one had the same green eyes and devilishly charming smile. His hair was just as shiny and curly. Physically, he was the same.

To put a date to it, I could say it started around the middle of 2020. He was by himself now, no longer supported by four other counterparts. Finally the center of attention. He’d done relatively well with the release of his first project, but it was his second album that had launched him into a similar success that he had in the band. Magazines swarming him with covers to be plastered on, late night tv talk show hosts all but begging him to sit down on their overly bouncy couches to talk about his love life and music inspiration.

With this new found admiration from the public, the changes were starting to be made. He no longer reached out first, and when he did, it was forcefully. He always made sure to be the one to never text last. Feeling satisfied in leaving another on read. Old Harry could carry conversations into the next day. Texts flooded with his odd facts and silly jokes. Now it was purely business. Maybe some meet ups from time to time. But usually it was me planning to meet up with him. His simple response was a thumbs up, not really caring if I showed or not.

He grew more and more insufferable the longer his fame lasted. Making friends with the best of the best and not even giving a second look to anyone else. So quick to discard those who were once always there for him. He was superficial. Fake. I knew this, but my heart still beat for the sweet boy I met all those years ago. Cherishing the fact he still considered me his best friend, even after all this time. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I did because even with this new asshole persona, I believed that underneath it, the young boy was still there. He just needed to be revealed somehow.

Now I can see how stupid I was. As I sit here, in the darkness of his living room watching some old movie he claims is, “vintage.” Not enjoying myself as I thought I would, but shrinking into the couch cushions, eyes welling up with each new dig he was making at me and my career. Always so quick to point out the clear gaps in our success. Me, having only a few movies and awards to my name, Harry having a room dedicated solely to them. His wins for only his newest album towering over all the ones I’d won in my whole career. I wished I could’ve tuned him out. Ignored how he belittled me, treated me like gum on his shoe. I wish his words meant nothing but that. Just words. I wished and wished.

“You know, if you made movies like this, you’d probably be so much more successful.” He gently smacked the side of my arm, eyes glued to the screen. Not even looking to see my expression.

Maybe it would’ve felt better if he had. Then I would know he only did it to get a rise out of me. Now I could see he was only doing it because that’s how he was. This is who he’s become. That hit so much deeper. I couldn’t blame it on him trying to tease me, or being playful and it coming off too strong. He was just, something almost unexplainable.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” The words were bitter as they rolled off my tongue. The couch I was once sinking into so feebly losing connection with my skin as I shot up to stand over him.

“What?” He looked confused, eyebrow cocked and a playful smirk on his face. He knew, how could he not. He saw how I cowered away, slinking into another room where the quiet was more evident that the soft chatter and quick glances in my direction. Both of pity and interest.

“Do you feel good about yourself? Bringing me down like that? Honestly, Harry tell me, I’m really interested.” His eyes seemed to dull, the movie no longer of interest to him. He stood to match my stance.

“I was just joking.” His arms raised in a fake defensive stance. Smirk still evident on his face.

“You should be proud of yourself, are you? Take a bow! Are you proud because I’m not. I’m not proud to say that there’s honestly nobody who’s ever done better at making me feel worse. So congratulations, Harry.” I clapped slowly, feeling heat rising to my cheeks, tears brimming my waterline. Harry stood there the entire time, mouth parted open and eyes searching my face desperately.

“I don’t see what I’ve done wrong? I was just giving you some tips.” He could’ve fooled me with that statement. His face contorted into one of pure regret and pain, almost like it hurt to deny what he had been doing. Like he didn’t want to be a jerk anymore. Somehow, it almost made me feel guilty.

“I don’t need your tips Harry! I don’t need anything from you. I am perfectly happy with what I’m doing, I don’t need a boat load of awards to show for that. You said it yourself, right? I’m happy doing what I’m doing, so don’t you dare insinuate that I am not successful. Don’t you dare.” My finger found the center of his chest, pushing back on his muscular frame, eyes blinking rapidly to dissolve any tears collecting, threatening to roll down my cheeks. To embarrass me.

My honesty was met with silence, his mouth closing into a firm line, eyes cold and lifeless looking into mine. He seemed totally calm, the complete opposite of my rapid breathing and heaving chest. It made me angry. How could he stand there, chest to chest with his “best friend” and not care about what he was doing to me?

“Fine, okay. Fine.” I backed away slowly, nodding in his direction. My footsteps picked up, hand searching quickly for my coat that was slung over the arm of his million dollar couch.

I never planned on leaving, but if this was what he wanted, to be a jerk and expect everyone to fall at his feet still, then I would not be part of it anymore. I would not cave to his sick and twisted mind games. I would leave, and maybe, just maybe, if he ever came to his senses. If he could ever see just how awful he was to me and could find it in his now frozen over heart to apologize, I would come back to stand beside him happily. But I would not be the woman who stood behind him, a bystander in the future movie of his life.

Slipping on my shoes and reaching for the door handle I paused. Looking around one last time, taking in Harry, who looked just as defeated as I felt, I saw it. He was crying. He was crying, actually crying. Hand gripped over his chest and clawing at where his heart reside. Body shaking silently. Praying I would come back. I sighed, opening the door.

“Harry.” It was quiet.

“Y/n/n.” It almost sounded like a beg. It felt so good to hear him call me that again, a name I hadn’t heard in years. Not since this personality shift.

“You really are the winner.” I didn’t need to further explain myself, he knew what I meant. There really was nobody else who ever had done better at making me feel worse. Nothing that ever did quite kill me more than what he had done. He really was, the winner.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #hslot harry #fine line harry styles #yn x harrystyles

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